“You are, girlfriend!” Marley says, and then she gives a little hoot and starts mirroring Annie’s dance moves.
All of this dancing is getting my blood flowing. Don’t warriors dance before battle? I’m not an anthropologist, but it sounds about right. Maybe this is the best way we can prepare for the show-down that’s about to occur.
But then again—“Annie, Marley,” I say, just as the song ends. “We should probably position ourselves along the perimeter of the yard, and keep our eyes out on the woods. I’ve been thinking about the Banishing Spell, and I think it’s our best shot, even though today’s practice session didn’t exactly go as planned.”
“You think we can pull it off?” Marley asks. She follows my lead as I make my way off of the dance floor.
“Yes,” I say confidently. I turn to face Marley and Annie. “I know we can. I did some more practicing this afternoon. It just takes focus. It’s all about your thoughts, while you’re working the spell. You have to get into this kind of mental space where all that seems to be happening is the spell you’re casting. Your mind can’t wander off to other stuff.”
“Ah!” says Annie. “Focus.”
“Yes!” I say. “Hocus pocus focus!”
“Hocus pocus focus!” repeats Marley gleefully.
“Exactly!” I say. “Let’s go get Cora and Silas.”
Annie makes a smooching sound. “You mean the two love birds?” she says.
Marley laughs. “They totally clicked, didn’t they?”
Annie giggles too. “I think he had her heart the moment he knelt down and held the dust pan for her,” she says.
I can’t help but laugh along. “In Cora’s book, that’s better than a proposal,” I say.
“The man of her dreams,” says Marley.
When we reach the two, it’s clear that our suspicion of a blooming romance is spot-on. The two are actually holding hands! Cora is practically glowing.
I explain my idea about spreading out around the perimeter of the yard, and everyone agrees it’s a good strategy. “Turkey is watching too,” I say, pointing over towards the tent pole where my bag is positioned. I can see Turkey’s cute little pointed ears, poking out of my bag. His eyes glow green in the night.
As I look at him, I hear his voice float into my mind. “I haven’t seen the white wolf yet, Penelope” he says.
“Keep up the work!” I return. Boy, I really love my cat.
Before we can spread out and take our positions, Silas speaks. “What should we do if we see him?” he asks.
“Hmmm... good question,” I say. “We can’t really cry wolf, can we? We’re going to have to try to deal with him quietly. In private if possible.”
“We need some kind of super cool secret code word,” Marley says.
“Or sound,” muses Annie. “I knew I should have brought my penny whistle.”
“How about we clap?” suggests Cora.
“Or—we could howl,” Silas says. “Just once. Like this.” He forms his lips into a circle, and then emits a soft “Ooooow oooouuuuwww!”
It gives me chills up and down my arms.
“That’s perfect,” I say. “When we hear a howl like that, we’ll all move in that direction. We’ll head into the woods and stop Zeke before he even makes it out into the yard. We’ll perform the Banishing Spell as quickly as we can. Oh! I almost forgot—here, everyone, take some ash and get your palms ready.”
I reach into my sweatshirt pocket and pull out my container of ash. For a few minutes, we form a tight little circle and paint each other’s palms. Soon all of us witches-in-training have dark spirals on the center of our palms.
“Okay,” I say, wrapping my arms around Marley’s shoulder. Annie loops her arm around my other shoulder. Cora and Silas join the group huddle. I feel like we’re some sort of oddball soccer team, getting ready to run out onto the field for our playoff game. “Everyone has the poem memorized?” I ask.
“Locked and loaded,” Marley says.
“Down to the very last syllable,” says Annie.
“Of course,” says Cora.
“Good,” I say. “It’s all about our thoughts. Stay focused.”
“Like you said, coach,” Marley says playfully. “Hocus pocus focus.”
“That’s right. Hocus pocus focus!” I say. With that, we break up.
I find a spot on the edge of the woods, near the bandstand. It’s parallel to the stage, but about fifty feet away from it. From my spot next to a tall pinion pine tree I peer into the dark, shadowy forest, scanning for any flashes of white fur.
I hear the crowd in the yard hush, so I pull my eyes away from the forest and look over my shoulder, towards the stage. Rebecca is walking into the middle of the stage with a microphone in her hands. Dawn and Neville may have had to deal with a murder in their hotel this week, but at least they got their sound system straightened out. No bullhorn this year!
I look back to the forest as Rebecca begins to speak.
“Citizens of Hillcrest,” she says primly. “Thank you for supporting the Hillcrest Historical Society this evening. As you know, we pride ourselves in keeping accurate records of the history of our special little town. We couldn’t do this without your support, and it does not go unnoticed. We hope that you have fun tonight—but not too much fun! Drink responsibly, people, and don’t sit too close to the fire. Lastly, don’t forget to make a donation. Thank you!”
An applause erupts from the crowd, and there’s even some hooting and hollering. I think it has more to do with the access to booze than the accurate record-keeping that the Historical Society’s been doing, but that’s just my humble opinion.
My eyes flit back and forth between the trees in the woods. A movement catches my eye, but I realize quickly that it was just a bird. Keep watching, I tell myself. Be patient.
As the applause dies down, Rebecca continues. “And now, without further ado, I’d like to bring up onto the stage Mayor Haywater!”
More applause.
I glance over my shoulder, and see Mayor Haywater step out onto the stage and reach for the mic that Rebecca’s passing to him.
“Thank you, thank you!” he says. “What an honor it is to be here, celebrating the birth of our community.”
I turn back to the forest, and do a quick scan.
Still nothing.
I can hear Mayor Haywater’s voice, behind me, being pumped out through two large speakers on either side of the stage. It floats out over the hushed crowd. “You know, when I was a young boy, I sometimes used to resent this town. I wished for something more. Now that I’m older, I—”
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and it draws my attention away from the mayor’s speech. I whip around, placing my hand on my chest as I do so.
Max Shire is standing right behind me.
“Max!” I say, as my chest rises up and down rapidly. “You scared me!”
“My apologies. I should have realized you’d be so jumpy,” Max says with a smile. Moonlight glistens off of his white teeth and fangs. “I saw you over here and I simply couldn’t resist. How is the werewolf hunting going?”
“Okay, I think,” I say, as I look away from Max, and back out into the woods. I feel my heartbeat speeding up. Max is standing awfully close to me.
There’s this thing that happens, when Max stands close to me.
I start to feel kind of lightheaded and frazzled. It’s not exactly the best state of mind for fighting werewolves; I’m fairly certain of that.
I can’t get distracted, now. I have to focus.
“Max,” I say. “Do you think we could... um... talk... later? I mean, it’s hard for me to think straight when—”
“When we’re together?” Max supplies.
“Um, yes. When you’re around. I don’t know why, but—”
“I know why,” Max says mischievously.
Just then I spot a flash of white fur out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head, trying to keep it in sight. It was a tail. A wolf tail—pristine, snowy
white.
The Lux wolf. Zeke. He’s here.
“Ooooww... Ooooouuuuwww,” I call out.
“I’ve never heard you do that before,” Max says. “That was quite enticing.” His voice is so deep, and so close to my ear that for a moment I feel myself swooning. Then, as I catch sight of the silhouettes of my coven, running along the edge of the yard towards me, I snap out of it.
“Max, we’re going to go work the Banishing Spell. I’ll talk to you after,” I say.
“Happy hunting,” Max says with a smile. He steps back, fading into the dark shadows of the yard just as Marley breathlessly approaches from the right. Annie is just a few steps behind her. Cora and Silas join us from the left.
“I just saw him!” I say. “He was heading that way!” I point into the woods.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Cora asks. I can hear it in her tone. She’s nervous. I see Silas reach for her hand.
“Let’s go!” I say in a loud whisper.
With that, I start running into the dark woods.
Chapter Sixteen
Marley and I used to play hide and seek in the woods around Hillcrest. Sometimes, we’d play with our gym class at school, sometimes with a gaggle of neighborhood rug-rats, or sometimes we’d just play by ourselves.
The pinon pine trunks are so thick that a few skinny kids can crowd behind just one, twitching and twittering with excitement as they wait to be discovered.
I’m reminded of our childhood game as I run into the woods. The trees cast long shadows, and between the shadows lie bright patches of silvery white moonlight.
I sprint forwards, towards the last tree that I saw Zeke disappear behind. He can’t be far. Marley is running right beside me. She must be thinking about our hide and seek days, too, because she says “Just like when we were kids, right, Penny?” under her breath.
Sure, I think. Except now we’re seeking a murderous werewolf instead of our classmates.
Or—is he seeking us? I’m not sure which way round this game is set up.
I feel simultaneously like the predator and the prey.
Before I can get too confused by this, I see Zeke. He darts out from behind a tree, heading towards us. This time, it’s not just a flash of white that I see, or the tip of his tail. I see him clearly—and he sees us.
His eyes glint in the moonlight. He emits a soft, dangerous growl. He’s moving swiftly. The sight of us hasn’t stopped him.
I plant my feet. “Now!” I say, just as Zeke runs into a long, wide patch of moonlight.
I feel my sisters halt next to me. Keeping Zeke pinned under my gaze, I begin moving my hands counter clockwise. As I do, words start flowing from my lips.
My sister’s voices join my own.
As I speak, I feel as though I’m in a trance. Time seems to slow down. Zeke seems to be trapped in the pool of moonlight. His movements slow down, as if the ground is covered in a foot of molasses. Our words are having an effect on him, already.
We reach the final stanza of the poem.
“Banish, banish, banish
From without, within, below, above
Gone for good, forever,
Not in hatred but with love.”
My sisters and I chant. Our voices are unified, and soft but powerful. Somehow, our chanting seems to blend into the forest itself. Our words mix with the dry rattle of aspen tree leaves, and the whoosh of wind through thousands of pine needles.
We’ve become united with everything around us—including Zeke. He can’t escape my gaze. I merge with him, and as the poem ends, I watch in amazement as he starts to fade away.
It looks like a fog has rolled in through the trees, but I know that’s not the case. As I watch his growling, snarling, tooth-studded evil grin fade and fade some more, I know: It’s working.
Our spell is working!
He becomes fainter and fainter, and then, right before our very eyes, he disappears altogether. Just as the very last fragments of his presence evaporate into nothingness, the moonlit patch he was running across becomes dark.
I look up, and see that a cloud has rolled in, right across the moonlight.
Of course.
A successful spell. The light goes out. Of course.
I hear Annie give a happy little hoot.
Then Cora joins in with a sporty cry. “We did it, team!” she says.
I feel so elated that I can’t help jumping up and down. Marley practically tackles me, wrapping her arms around my neck as she cries out joyfully, “Ladies! We did it!”
Soon we’re all tangled up in a group hug, jumping up and down. Even Annie, whose seventy-odd year old knees rarely permit jumping, manages to leave the ground a few times.
I’m smiling big as our group hug breaks up.
“Let’s go celebrate!” Marley says.
“I feel like dancing!” Annie says.
Silas has joined us, and he now swoops up Cora in a hug. I try not to stare, but I can’t help seeing him give her a Hollywood movie worthy kiss, right after he congratulates her.
“Yes!” I say agreeing with Marley wholeheartedly, and voicing my approval for the kiss as well.
Celebrating sounds wonderful. Dawn’s caramel coated apples are calling my name; I could use a celebratory treat! Working magic stirs up my appetite, I’m finding!
We begin walking out of the woods, all in a line. I can imagine we might look like a team of astronauts, stepping out of their rocket ship after visiting the moon. I feel downright heroic. It’s not only caramel apples that are calling my name. I also want to swoop up Turkey in a big hug, and let him know I’m safe. I also wouldn’t mind sharing our success with my friend, Doctor Max Shire.
Perhaps I’m on Max’s mind, too, because he’s right on the edge of the woods waiting for us. As soon as we emerge from the trees, he approaches.
“How did it go?” he asks.
“Good!” I say. “That took all of—what?—five minutes?”
“Still time obsessed, I see,” Max says, with a laugh.
We’re walking towards each other. My friends are dispersing: Marley and Annie are headed for the dance floor, where the Funk Collective has just started up a rousing rendition of one of Marley’s favorite Reggae tunes.
Cora and Silas, hand in hand, are walking back towards the bonfire.
Which leaves me with Max.
As he walks up to me, he opens up his arms.
We collide in a hug that feels—I have to admit it—too good.
I’m now more aware than ever of my weakness for being held up by men—literally and figuratively. I want to be able to stand on my own two feet. I no longer feel that there’s a part of me missing. I’m not scrambling to find my other half. I’m whole and complete, just by being me: Penny Banks, Witchy PI.
However, this hug feels so good. Not in a needy way—the way I used to need desperately to be held by Chris. This ‘good’ feeling is more like... a bonus. Like I’m a bowl of homemade vanilla ice cream, delicious in my own right, and Max’s hug is a dollop of unnecessary but welcome chocolate sauce.
An added touch on top, that’s oh-so tasty.
His arms are strong. I fit perfectly against his chest.
“Max,” I say. My voice is almost a whisper.
He pulls back a little bit. “Yes, Penny?” he says.
I look up at him. “I—I just want to say thank you. I couldn’t figure out all of this stuff without your help. This—magic, you know—it’s all so new to me and I feel really lucky to have you around.”
“No,” Max says. “You don’t need me, Penny. You would figure all of this out with or without me. That’s just the kind of woman you are.”
For some reason, I like that he’s used the word ‘woman’. I am a woman. Why have I always thought of myself as a ‘girl’?
I smile, and look down at the toes of my cowboy boots. “Maybe,” I say. My newly cropped hair falls in front of my eyes, and I reach up and tuck it behind my ear as I look up at him again. “But I
’m still really glad that you’re around. I’m glad we’re... friends.”
“Me too,” Max says softly, gazing down at me.
I feel my chest, moving up and down fast as my breathing becomes shallow. Standing this close to Max, looking into his eyes like this, makes me feel so wonderful.
“Penny,” he says, not breaking eye contact. “There’s something I should tell you. Something I’ve been meaning to tell you—but couldn’t, before... when you were with your boyfriend. But now, I feel that you should know. I—”
I want to know what he has to say. I really do.
But something has caught my attention.
There’s a section of nearly empty lawn between the tent and the bonfire. As Max speaks, for some reason, my eyes move to two figures that are moving across that shadowy portion of grass.
It’s the way the woman is walking that grabs my focus. She’s wearing heels and a tight-fitting pencil skirt. Her stride is short, because of the way the skirt binds her legs together. With every other step, one of her heels sink into the grass.
Despite the way she’s slowed down by her inappropriate attire (I mean really... who wears heels to a bonfire dance?) she’s walking with a strange sense of urgency.
Next to her is another silhouette I recognize: Marty Stevens. They’re walking close together; I can tell that they’re deep in conversation.
What do those two have to say to each other?
I didn’t even know that Sarah and Marty knew each other. Yet, now, watching them, I get the distinct feeling that they do know each other—very, very well.
“Wait!” I say to Max, cutting him off. “I want to talk. I really do. I’m better at this... you know, at talking. Like a mature adult. But there’s... there’s something I have to do, first. Okay?” I say.
Max looks over his shoulder, and spots the two figures that I’m now intently watching.
“Does this have to do with your case?” he asks.
“I—I’m not sure,” I say. “But I have this funny feeling...”
“Intuition,” Max says, with a smile. “Witchy intuition. It grows as you work magic. Yours is getting stronger. I can see that. Do you need help?”
I hesitate. Do I need Max?
A Hillcrest Witch Mystery Collection Page 34
