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Magic Underground: The Complete Collection (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 4)

Page 120

by Melinda Kucsera


  My eyes lit up. “I thought magic couldn’t change free will.”

  Joe laughed. “I’m not changing their will. They’re drawn by the beautiful melody and are curious.”

  Beautiful melody? If it could get all the hamsters out from my walls, I might agree for once. “Why didn’t you say something before?”

  “I didn’t want to intrude on yours and Roman’s life.”

  Roman snickered, and his little display of disbelief had his father looking away.

  “That’s not exactly true,” Joe clarified. “I didn’t want to move out.”

  The way his lips tightened clearly said he didn’t want to say anything more. I didn’t want an argument, and while we had his cooperation, I wasn’t going to ruin it. “Well, I welcome your intrusion.” I fanned a hand around the room. “Show me what you can do.” I opened the carrying case door, keeping my hand in front so the eight hamsters I had already caught didn’t go anywhere.

  Joe began playing an unfamiliar melody, filled with alternating highs and lows, and soon out from beneath the wardrobe came a golden hamster. As it crossed the living room, another hamster followed, then out marched a few dozen more. Joe kept playing until they approached the carrying case where I removed my hand and Roman helped me scoop them inside. I quickly closed the door.

  “Joe, you’re amazing!” I exclaimed.

  Roman tilted his chin and narrowed his eyes at his father. “You are good with these hamsters. And if you can call them into the cage…I imagine you could call them no matter where you are.”

  “Sure, I imagine I could. I’ve never tried.”

  I looked at my husband, getting what he was saying. “So, I’m just going to say it and stop all this speculation. Did you cause all the hamsters to come here in the first place?”

  “Me?” Joe lowered his piccolo and shook his head. “No, of course not.”

  Now I was the one narrowing my eyes at my father-in-law. Did I believe him? I wasn’t sure.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “Because, you made a point last night. I want to stay in Watersedge and spend time with the both of you. It turns out that I’ve jumped into a relationship with the two of you rather quickly, without earning your respect first. I appreciate your hospitality, but perhaps we should take things slower. I’d be honored if you’d let me stay here in this apartment.”

  There was still something he wasn’t saying. I looked at my husband and he saw it, too.

  Roman straightened and approached his father like I hadn’t seen before. Eye contact. A straight spine where Roman actually looked the same height as him, and a square jaw. “Dad, you know I’m willing to get to know you better, but I feel you’ve been keeping something from me…from us. Come clean. Why are you really here?”

  Joe tightened his lips and cast his eyes to the ground. He took a deep breath, and I could see the confession coming. Had he been here to sabotage me? To sabotage our happy life? To teach us a lesson about mortals and magic?

  “I—I…The doctors say I’m developing Witches’ Wandering.”

  The skepticism in Roman’s face melted. “‘Witches’ Wandering’? I don’t believe it. I haven’t seen any symptoms of you losing your memories or your magical abilities.”

  “Early stages,” Joe said. “Someday, I won’t remember who I am, much less who the two of you are. I didn’t lie when I said I came in time to see you have little ones. I want them to know who their grandpa is…before…well, we don’t have to dwell on it, but if you need confirmation, you can call my doctor in Mystic Ridge, she noticed the changes in my brain. Also, Penelope can confirm I’m not great at remembering things from time to time.”

  “Nobody is.” I tried to console him, fully believing his confession.

  Roman still looked skeptical, but I gave him an eye. We could confirm what Joe said, if we needed to, at a later time. “What about purchasing the wardrobe last night? That was a lot of money to shell out.”

  Joe shrugged. “I was doing a good deed. I didn’t want you to have no bids at all. I might have slipped Mayor Raab a few bucks to let me know if anyone else went after the wardrobe.”

  “You bribed the mayor?”

  “Hey, anyone can be bought for the right price.” He slapped the side of the wooden wardrobe. “Besides, I want to give this one to my grandson.”

  “Grandson?” Roman asked.

  “Or granddaughter, I’m not picky.”

  “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  “And that’s why I’m going to stay here. I want to be around for as long as my disease lets me, and I know I can’t do that living in your place the entire time…but someday, I won’t be able to live on my own, either.”

  Roman still looked in shock.

  I pushed aside all the hostility and welcomed Joe with open arms, giving him the first hug we shared. “Well, we’re glad to have you.”

  Roman still stood there dumbfounded and confused, but I wasn’t going to have Joe excluded. We were all one big family. Besides, Roman might not appreciate it, but his father was the first of our families to visit us…and the least expected. I took Roman’s hand and pulled him in, and, surprisingly, he gave his father and me, a nice, manly hug.

  Well, it was better than nothing.

  “Okay. We have work to do. First, we need to get all the hamsters out of this place, then we need to fix the shop’s reputation.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Roman asked.

  I smiled. “With an idea both you and Joe gave me. A way to show them we didn’t harm any of these critters and we care about their well-being.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Joe and Roman spent all day luring the hamsters out from the walls and shuffling them into cages as fast as I could bring them. After a few hours, we had dozens of cages filled with the cute little critters. I had called the health inspector, but he couldn’t come until tomorrow to give Ettie’s a clean bill of health, so in the meantime, I set up shop outside on the sidewalk.

  Well, I kind of set up shop. More like a major hamster adopt-a-thon. I had my cages of critters on full display for anyone who’d look along with little enchanted dishes guaranteed to always keep their water fresh.

  The problem was people still avoided me and Ettie’s Enchanted Effects like we had some rare contagious disease. Couldn’t they see all the hamsters were safe and sound?

  But Roman said this town was easily influenced by the media, whether it was printed in the newspaper or plastered all over the internet. All I needed was a post and a few good friends to share it.

  Hamster Adopt-a-Thon at Ettie’s Enchanted Effects.

  Free Enchanted Water Dish with Each Adoption.

  Do your part to give these rescued animals a home.

  You’ll be glad you did.

  And then a photo of their cute little whiskers. Who could refuse?

  As I looked up to the changeable letter billboard hanging above the next-door church’s entrance, I realized that the post needed one more thing added: The Church of the Saved, who loves all of God’s creatures, is invited to help.

  It might have been low, but I was tired of the passive-aggressiveness.

  I texted all my friends I had made in Watersedge to share the post. Bev from Roman’s work, Officers Gates and Duncan, as well as Penelope and a few others I had met over the past month. It was a start, but hopefully, each of them had a much larger network than I had…plus, I had tagged the Church of the Saved and their ten thousand followers hopefully saw the post as well.

  If this didn’t work, I’d write another editorial for the newspaper. It seemed like I had an “in” with the editor. Heck, there was no sense in holding back. I tagged the paper’s editor on my social media post, too.

  It worked like a charm.

  Within the hour, Roman, Joe, and I couldn’t keep up with the demand, boxing up hamsters and sending them home with the citizens of Watersedge.

  “Is Ettie’s open?” A teenage girl s
aid after a few hours of hamster adopting chaos. She already held two female hamsters in a small box.

  “No, not yet. I’m still shut down until the health inspector clears us.”

  “Too bad,” she said, blushing a bit. “I’m having this problem at school. The school dance is coming up, and I’d like to go with a special friend. I keep waiting for him to ask me, but he seems too shy. I was hoping you had something to help him overcome his shyness.”

  Behind her, I caught a bit of movement. Brittney came out of the church wearing a bright yellow sunflower dress that was impossible to miss. I ignored her, focusing on the girl in front of me. “Oh, honey, you don’t need something from me to solve that problem. Everything you need, you already have. There’s no reason you can’t ask him yourself. We are in the twenty-first century and all. You’re already friends, so why not be brave? If you can’t ask, then your friendship isn’t as strong as you think.”

  She looked down at her hamsters, then back at me with a smile. “I’ll give it a try, but maybe I need a braveness stone. Will you be open tomorrow, if I can’t do it?”

  “If you can’t do it, find me and I’ll get you something, whether I’m open or not.”

  With a nod, she took off, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I should take my own advice about braveness. I took a deep breath, straightening my shoulders and standing tall like Roman had done when he faced his father. “We’d be happy to have your help,” I said with a big smile, waving Brittany down from the top of her stairs.

  I didn’t miss the look she gave me, but she joined the crowd on the sidewalk, muttering to me, “It’s good for the church.”

  Of course it was. When I turned away to let her jump into helping the next customer, I spun around to an older, gray-haired man I recognized as one of the citizens who turned their backs to me at the charity ball.

  “Did I hear right?” he asked. “Ettie’s is still closed?”

  I nodded. “Closed until the health inspector returns.”

  He smiled. “Well, I can wait with my trouble. It’s awfully nice of you to find homes for all these little guys. I imagine exterminating them would have been a lot easier.”

  “It would have, but I’ve never been the kind of witch to take the easy way out.”

  “I’m starting to notice that about you…and so is this town, I think. Keep being strong. We’ll all come around.”

  “I hope so,” I said, taking a quick glance over my shoulder at Brittany. “Did you want a hamster?”

  He laughed. “Nah, I already have a few at home. Got them from Natalia.”

  “Natalia Young? The reporter…err…ex-reporter?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, she had one she didn’t want. A big fat bugger with long hair.”

  My hands fisted. How many hamsters did Natalia have? Was it her who had had my store shut down? I forced myself to unclench my hands. His description of his hamster didn’t seem to match any of mine. Maybe it was just a coincidence and Natalia wasn’t behind the hamster epidemic, but I knew I’d be calling Officer Gates with this new information as soon as I adopted out the rest of the critters.

  Joe, Roman, and I finished out the day, adopting most of the hamsters out. Brittany had disappeared after a few of our busiest hours, but I was grateful we had had her extra hands. There were a dozen or so hamsters left, but I was certain they’d go tomorrow.

  “Thanks for your help, Dad.” Roman patted his father on the shoulder.

  “It was the least I could do after all the confusion,” Joe said.

  “Yeah, lots of assumptions.” Roman ran a hand through his dark hair. “We have to stop doing that.”

  I shook my head. “Maybe we should stop jumping to conclusions, but there’s still a big mystery to solve. Someone is obviously out to shut Ettie’s down, and if it wasn’t you, Joe, who called in all these hamsters? How’d they get into Ettie’s walls?”

  “That’s a problem to solve another day,” Joe said, taking an empty cage and carrying it through Ettie’s front door. “Right now, Penelope is waiting for me, and I want to make sure our relationship works out.”

  When we gave him a go-ahead nod, he snapped his fingers and disappeared into a fine shimmer.

  “So, it’s just you and me,” I said to Roman.

  “Alone, huh? At least we will be alone when we get home tonight.” A sly smile curled his lips and showed off his dimples. “What do you want to do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I looked away, trying hard to be nonchalant. “I haven’t watched an action-flick in a long time.”

  “Is that all you want to do?” Roman ran a finger up my arm, sending a shiver down my spine.

  “No,” I teased. “Maybe we could play with Alvin, Simon, and Theodore, too.”

  Roman groaned, dropping his hand. “Just my luck. I trade my father for three new males in your life.”

  “Three new females, too,” I corrected. “I kept Brittany, Jeannette, and Eleanor.”

  He laughed. “I’m surprised you named one Brittany…after the neighbor.” He pointed to the Church of the Saved next door.

  “Well, if there’s one thing I learned these past few days, it’s that holding a grudge is not worth it. Your father has been prejudiced about witch-mortal interactions his whole life, and I forgave him. Why should my treatment of Brittany be any different?”

  “Because she might be sabotaging your store.”

  “Or she might not. I’m happy she came to help today.”

  “You forced her hand.”

  “Sometimes, we all need a bit of a push. Also, we don’t have concrete evidence on anything yet, but we still need to be on our toes. I don’t think this is over.”

  Roman bopped my nose with his index finger. “Not over yet, but I looked back at my life before I met you, and I realized how boring it had been. It’s amazing how I didn’t even know what I was missing until I got it.”

  I smiled. “Like alone time?”

  He nodded, taking my hand in his, and, with his new-found magical strength, shimmered us back to our house for our much-needed husband-and-wife bonding.

  “The Mail-Order Witch” series is not over yet. Help Ettie and Roman solve the mystery of who is sabotaging their enchanted objects shop in the exciting conclusion to this series, titled “The Mail-Order Witch, Episode 3,” available exclusively in Forgotten Magic.

  About the Author

  Joynell Schultz manages the family zoo (literally!) and writes paranormal fantasy, mystery, and science fiction in her (nearly non-existent) free time. She's a pharmacist by training (boring!) but prefers to hang out with zebras and bears or some imaginary characters. Oh, and she (finally!) hit the USA Today Bestsellers list.

  Grab the FREE pilot episode to The Mail-Order Witch (showcasing how Ettie & Roman met) or learn more about the author’s other books on her webpage:

  http://www.joynellschultz.com

  Don't forget to grab your copy of next anthology, Forgotten Magic!

  The Rebellion

  Gwendolyn Woodschild

  Brandur’s life took an unexpected turn when he woke up dead. In “The Rebellion” the retired Viking who had once defined himself as a husband, warrior, and fisherman found himself needing to define who he is and what he stands for as a ghost. To make matters worse, he is under the sway of the power-hungry, insatiably curious, and fickle old man who killed Brandur. Never one to take confinement well, Brandur is driven to revenge, but first must figure out the new rules of his new wayward existence.

  What do you do when you finally reach your breaking point? How far are you willing to go to rebel against your circumstances? What are the consequences of finally getting a taste of revenge against the one who put you in your situation? Those questions inspired “The Rebellion,” where the Viking Brandur finds himself facing those and more as he tries to get his afterlife back on track.

  Gwendolyn Woodschild

  Brandur finds himself not only dead, but under the power of the man who killed him. Anger and
defiance don’t earn Brandur the information he needs or the freedom he craves, so he must steel himself to do what is necessary to get his revenge if he can’t achieve his freedom.

  The Rebellion

  “Where is my wife?!”

  “Your who?” the old man me giggled.

  “My wife! This is my home that you have invaded,” I accused the stranger. “Where is my wife, Torhild? How are you in my home without the whole village in an uproar? And what do you mean that I’m your ‘ghost’ now? What is a ghost?”

  So much had changed in such a short amount of time. I needed answers, and I was determined to drag the information out of this crazy old man with the messy, frazzled salt and pepper hair perched on top of his high forehead. Sharp cheekbones knifed out above his unkempt beard that matched his wild hair. His long, baggy brown tunic waved loosely on his bony frame underneath as he twitched about, always in motion.

  This was the man that, when I was alive, I thought would help me. I had been stabbed by a dagger; a chance of fate that weakened the rings of my chainmail allowed for a lucky thrust to penetrate my guts. I survived that, only to be found by this man who dealt me the killing blow.

  “You don’t know, oh this is delicious! You do talk too much for my taste, I wonder if I can solve that,” he said. The old man still had my Damascus steel valknut, the pendant I wore in life and the symbol that was supposed to signal the Valkyries to me in death so I might feast in Valhalla, in his long, skeletal hand. He idly played with the chain with his empty hand as pushed his sickly yellow energy into my valknut again, but I didn’t feel the stab of pain like I did the first time.

 

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