by Les Goodrich
Table of Contents
title page
copyright
Chapter 1 - Avalon Winter
Chapter 2 - Stonecloak
Chapter 4 - Darkness Spotted
Chapter 7 - Magick and Mischief
Chapter 8 - First Blood
Chapter 9 - Spells and Spies
Chapter 10 - Grave Alliance
Chapter 11 - Backup
Chapter 12 - Connections
Chapter 13 - Ready to Ride
Chapter 14 - Around the Bend
Chapter 15 - Lay of the Land
Chapter 16 - Enemies & Traps
Chapter 17 - Homefront
Chapter 18 - Secret Places
Chapter 19 - Property Damage
Chapter 20 - It Never Happened
Chapter 21 - Yule
Author's Note (FIX LINK)
The Salem Spellbook-Book3
Contents
title page
copyright
Chapter 1 - Avalon Winter
Chapter 2 - Stonecloak
Chapter 4 - Darkness Spotted
Chapter 7 - Magick and Mischief
Chapter 8 - First Blood
Chapter 9 - Spells and Spies
Chapter 10 - Grave Alliance
Chapter 11 - Backup
Chapter 12 - Connections
Chapter 13 - Ready to Ride
Chapter 14 - Around the Bend
Chapter 15 - Lay of the Land
Chapter 16 - Enemies & Traps
Chapter 17 - Homefront
Chapter 18 - Secret Places
Chapter 19 - Property Damage
Chapter 20 - It Never Happened
Chapter 21 - Yule
Author's Note (FIX LINK)
The Salem Spellbook-Book3
The Voodoo Children
Retail Witches Series ~ Book 2
LES GOODRICH
The Retail Witches
Retail Witches Series ~ Book 1
The Voodoo Children
Retail Witches Series ~ Book 2
The Salem Spellbook
Retail Witches Series ~ Book 3
The Darkspell Alliance
Retail Witches Series ~ Book 4
The Hexpawn Betrayal
Retail Witches Series ~ Book 5
The Soulpuller’s Heir
Retail Witches Series ~ Book 6
The Crossroad of Thorns
Retail Witches Series ~ Book 7
Copyright © 2017 by Leslie Ernest Goodrich. All rights reserved.
The contents of this book may not be copied or reproduced
(except in instances of brief attributed quotations published for
editorial review) without the prior written permission of the author:
Goodrich, Leslie E. (12-01-2017).
This Urban Fantasy Series Novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters and events herein are fictitious, created in the mind of the author, for entertainment purposes only. Any fictional character’s likeness to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any products, places, or historical figures within this narrative are portrayed in a fictitious manner for the purposes of entertainment and under the protection of Fair Use.
Published by
DV8NOW Publishing
Vero Beach, FL
dv8now.com
Get a FREE book:
http://lesgoodrich.com/free-book/
Chapter 1
Avalon Winter
The November morning pressed a cold fog carpet along every Saint Augustine street, and from the stone chimneys of Old Town grey smoke rose like ghostly pillars to hold up the overcast sky. One thin smoke trail reached up from the tall narrow house on Spanish Street.
The antique potbelly stove in Carol’s upstairs bedroom ticked as it slowly cooled. The night’s fire had faded to early dawn coals and Carol opened her eyes. She focused on a faint light ribbon where it curled around the curtain edge and when Carol stretched Jasmine the cat protested with a scratchy little meow.
Carol pulled her blanket up, wrapped the edge up over her shoulder, rolled on her side, and closed her eyes again. She was instantly back in the same damn nightmare she had been having all night. She saw old row houses and gas lamp carriage lights on walls above cobbled streets. Each time she came to the same corner and found herself facing graveyard gates.
Once again she stood in the same spot and was compelled to go in through the gates. The sky was electric green but the terrain was dark and jeweled stars stood surreal and unblinking in the curve of the low pressing sky. Under it she moved, despite a feeling of dread, until she came to a graveyard crossroads of narrow dirt paths bordered in all four directions by leaning, woeful, above ground crypts. The harsh sound of stone grinding on stone began far away and moved nearer and increased in quantity and she helplessly watched the crypt doors all around her push open and from each emerged the horrid gasping undead in their rotted clothes and skin of decay and eyes long eaten away.
Carol ran in her heart but her legs merely dragged and she felt the cold mindless touch of the dead on her skin as the host advanced and again she forced her legs to run but only heavy inches were gained and she pressed the ground in this way to no avail.
Rattling, rotten breath and senseless mumbling polluted the air as she tried desperately not to breathe, but was forced to, and each breath filled her lungs with the foul rot of the corpses upon her. Dead hands searched her body and the ever advancing weight of more and more ghouls piled and writhed and pressed her into the dirt.
From under the graveyard soil where she suffocated more undead hands reached up and clawed at her and pulled her further down. She felt a hateful grasp around her neck and she tried to move her hands to pull the gripping bones away but her own arms refused to move and she lurched up, awake, the blanket edge wrapped around her neck. She pulled the blanket away and looked around her room and once again saw Jasmine the cat, oblivious and curled.
“Thanks for the help,” Carol said and she rolled gently up and petted Jasmine at the foot of the bed, where the cat had every intention of remaining for some time. Carol’s heart still pounded but she was glad to be awake and she opened the stove door, added one small chunk of wood, then closed back the door. “That’s for you lazy bones,” she said and the cat yawned and curled up with one paw over her eyes.
Carol got ready, then made her way down to the kitchen where she turned on her coffee maker and warmed a slice of banana bread in the toaster. She warmed her hands on the cup and when she stepped out to her back patio the coffee steamed heavily in the morning air.
She sipped coffee, ate, and enjoyed the view of her foggy morning garden. Carol loved the near-freezing air. She was grateful for the cool months and thought of every cold day as a treat compared to the hot Florida summers. In time the days would again be so hot, that a cold morning would be unimaginable. She had all but forgotten the biting Salem, Massachusetts winters she had grown up in. She breathed deep the chill air and was content.
She was up early for work. She thought about the store and her current crew of employees and she loved them each for their own personality and energy. She heard a sound like the battering of a moth and looked to see Thistle the garden faerie fly down from the high oak in the back and land on the garden bench near the fountain.
Carol had known Thistle since a summer vacation to Saint Augustine long ago when she was fresh out of college. Seeing Thistle always made her happy and she watched the seven inch faerie shake dew from her short, shiny, chestnut colored hair and pull her yellow and white spotted butterfly-shaped wings around and dry each one in turn on her white long sleeve shirt. She kicked dew from her tiny green clogs, brushed her hair back one last time, then flew up to the back dec
k coffee table where she landed and sat with her legs hanging off the edge.
“Hi Carol,” Thistle said with her hands on her knees. “Foggy, huh?”
“Yes quite, and cold.”
“You like the cold though, right?”
“I do. That is, I like Florida cold anyway. Would you like some coffee?”
“Oh that would be perfect,” Thistle said and she bounced on her seat from the thought of it.
Carol went inside and returned with a shot glass of coffee and a corner of banana bread on a napkin.
“Thank you,” Thistle beamed and she began to drink and eat. “Mmmmm. So good.”
“So what have you been up to?” Carol asked.
“I’ve been going over the cave witch spellbook and the Aradia painting you guys brought back from the islands. Trying to crack the mermaid spell.”
Thistle had served as research assistant to Carol’s grandfather, and had helped Carol solve many mysteries over the years. Discovering and solving magical clues was her passion. That and champagne.
“Any luck?”
“Well, some. It’s a truly complex spell. Way more than just a charm or a potion. The potion is more like the spell itself. And it’s tricky. There are all sorts of references to solstices and equinoxes and tides.
“It’s made so you can cast it on the fly. But certain things must be ready ahead of time. And certain consolations have to be made for different times of the year. The solar year. So, yeah, if you always knew you needed to cast the spell on, say, the summer solstice, it would always be the same. Parts of it anyway. But the spell was used to provide escape for persecuted witches. So there are all these calculations and formulas to compensate for whatever time of year you might be working the spell in.”
“Wow. I knew it would be complicated. Sounds like you’ve done a lot of work already. What’s the next move?”
“I’d say the next step is to corral some of the ingredients we know we’ll need. The only one I’m unsure of is pink pearls.”
“Pink pearls?”
“Yeah. There’s a reference to pink pearl dust as a potion ingredient. That could mean a few things. It could literally mean the dust made from grinding pink pearls. There are pink pearls. But it could also be the pink, so-called pearls, that form in conch shells. Those are super rare and quite valuable. But I’m not so sure the witch Araja would have had access to them, her being from Italy that is. But, then again, she did get around.”
“All of this is great progress. I’ll tell Jordan this morning, I’m opening with her. She’ll be thrilled.”
“Oh great,” Thistle said. “Since you’re here now I have a list of the other ingredients too. I’ll go get it if you have time.”
“I do,” Carol said and Thistle flew to the garden house. In a minute she returned grasping a folded square of paper which she handed to Carol.
“I wrote it big for you,” Thistle said.
“I see you did. Thank you,” Carol said and read the list. “Powdered root of red mangrove, two xestas of high tide seawater charged in sunlight for three days and in waxing moonlight for two nights. What’s a xesta?”
“A xesta is an old Roman measurement. Two xestas is a liter,” Thistle said and her tiny heart raced with pride.
“Okay, also one ounce of sea salt, sixteen strands of a maiden witch’s hair, and,” Carol paused and looked to Thistle.
“Yep,” Thistle said and Carol read the final ingredient on the list.
“Seven mermaid scales?”
“That’s what it said.”
“Can those just come off?”
“No idea.”
“I guess we can find out. I’ll have Jordan ask Shay. The rest of this is easy. Aside from the pink pearl dust and figuring out exactly what that is. Is there anything else you need?” Carol asked.
“There are a few things I don’t understand in the spellbook. Maybe you could ask Brit to come help with the research in the garden house. She might know of other books that could answer a few questions I keep running into. Plus I’m at a loss with the painting. I mean it’s cool and all. But I keep thinking it has hidden clues. If Brit could take a look at it. You know, two heads.”
“I’ll be sure to ask her. I’m glad you live here, Thistle. I’d be even lonelier without you to talk to.”
“And I’d go even crazier than I am without you. Thank you Carol,” Thistle said and she finished her coffee and bread. “Bye now.” Thistle flew away into the garden and Carol went to the store.
***
Jordan had opened and Carol arrived at nine a.m.
“Good morning,” Jordan said from the counter. “Still foggy out there?”
“Not as much, but still damp.” Carol put her purse on the front table. She looked to see two customers in the back, a young couple. “I’ll be right back.” She went to put her larger bag in the office. “Hello,” she said to the couple on her way by. “Has Jordan taken care of you?”
“Oh yes, we’re just looking at books,” the woman said. “We love your store.”
“Thank you, and let us know if you need anything.”
Carol put her bag in back and headed up front. A teenage witch that she recognized as an infrequent regular moved into the store and she greeted him as they passed. He wore black cargo pants, a black and grey tie-dyed shirt, and a black leather jacket. He tipped his black bowler hat with brass goggles to her.
“Hi Carol. Anything new in?” he asked.
“Always,” Carol smiled and the young witch straightened his hat with a mischievous light in his eyes, then ducked into The Crooked Cupboard room of the shop.
“What’s his name again?” Carol asked as she moved to the front counter where Jordan worked to rearrange the gemstone bracelet display.
“Oh that’s Jack. Isn’t he the cutest thing in the world?”
“Adorable. So polite.”
“Yeah. His folks own the bike rental place on the beach. I think they have one in Daytona too. Maybe Cocoa Beach, somewhere.”
“How’s your coloring book kid, the apprentice, Casey?”
“I’m just getting to know her but we’ve hit it off. It’s a new thing for me to be the mature one, but it feels good. She’s honest and smart. I like her. Looking forward to getting to know her better.”
“No witches in her family?”
“Not that she knows of.”
“Do her parents know what she’s up to?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, in my experience teaching young witches, that’s a subject she might not want them to learn as a surprise. Depending on what they’re like. The parents.”
“I’ll find out. So what’s new with you?”
“I talked to Thistle today. She’s been working on the mermaid spell.”
“Cool what’s up with that?”
“It’s complicated like we thought. I read through parts of it but Thistle has dove deeper. She has a list of ingredients for us to find.” Carol found the paper in her purse and gave the note to Jordan. “Most of them are easy, but you see the one?”
“Mermaid scales.”
“Yes. Can you ask Shay if that’s a big deal or not?”
“I’ll ask her. But by all accounts both Aradia and Araja were loved by mermaids. I’m sure there’s an easy way to get them.”
“Okay. And you see the pink pearl dust?”
“Yeah, what is that?”
“Either actual pink pearl dust or conch pearl dust.”
“Hmm. I gotta go hang out with Thistle.”
“She’d love that. I know she gets bored around there. She’s so happy to have this new spell to be researching. She wants Brit to come help her with it too. I’m gonna ask her today.”
“Brit’ll do it.”
“I know. What time is she in?”
“Two, and Tanner at noon to close with her. I leave once she’s here and Tanner gets his break.”
“Great. I’ll hang around so I can see all of you together.”
The morning was smooth and Tanner was on time. Jordan went to lunch and the three of them were all up front when Brit strolled in and everyone said hello.
“So the gang’s all here,” Brit said moving behind the counter to put her backpack down. She brushed it off and made sure the bottom was dry first. “It’s been cloudy all day and now it’s starting to rain.”
“Just a few things before I leave,” Carol said. “Tanner, you open tomorrow, then Brit’s a mid-closer, and Jordan at noon to close with you. Tomorrow I want you guys to redo the front window for Yule. Use your best judgement but make it nice. Now I know Jordan’s training Casey, and Brit and Mims are doing their year and a day study too. Tanner, How’s it going with Carmine?”
“Fine.”
“Okay good. All I’m saying is that you guys have a lot going on and this is also the busy time of year for us. You can do it, just remember, the store needs you too. This isn’t the time to start flaking out. Plus Brit has school. This is the season of parties and old friends back in town. All that.
“Just don’t start dragging in here with a hangover or looking like you haven’t slept in a week because you haven’t. Take care of yourselves and each other. If you need anything from me just ask.
“Also, Brit. Would you be willing to help Thistle go over the cave witch spellbooks some afternoon? She might need some books from the library and she specifically asked if you could help her.”
“Sure thing,” Brit said. “Love to. Tomorrow I’ll let you know what day I can come over.”
“Okay great,” Carol said and with that she was gone.
Jordan and Brit worked together while Tanner took his break. They helped a steady stream of customers and had short chats between them. As the day advanced the rain increased and customers became more wet and fewer.
“So how’s Mims doing with her witchcraft gig?” Jordan asked when they had a minute.
