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If the Broom Fits

Page 7

by Sara Bourgeois


  I heard the sound again, and that time I did identify it. The scratching noise was coming from out in the hallway just outside of where I could see out the door. At first I thought it was just Meri sharpening his claws on the wood floor.

  “Meri, knock it off,” I said and rubbed my eyes.

  “Huh? Knock what off?” he said and sat up.

  It wasn’t the cat in the hallway because Meri was curled up next to me in his usual spot. Without thinking about it, I put my hand on his back for reassurance. When the scratching noise came again, I felt the hair on the back of his haunches stand up.

  “That’s not good,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t suppose it’s just a rogue squirrel,” I said with a nervous laugh.

  “No, Brighton. Scratching like that comes from one source. It’s a spirit and it’s not good.”

  “Like an angry ghost?” I whispered.

  “Either that or a demon.”

  “So, I guess that means demons are real too.”

  “They are, but there’s still a chance it’s just an angry spirit instead or perhaps a trickster. Either way, I’m not sure how it got in here. This house is heavily protected. That means that either there’s a hole in the house’s defenses, or that thing in the hallway is stronger that your family’s magic.”

  “Awesome,” I said. “What do we do?”

  “Well, normally, I’d tell you to cast a protection spell, but they way your magical practice has been going, I think you’d actually summon a demon or perhaps steer an asteroid toward earth. Maybe we should just go in the hall and look,” Meri said and stood up.

  “Wait, what? You’re going to go out there?”

  “Or we can sit here and wait for it to come get us,” Meri said as he stretched.

  We both jumped when we heard the loud thump from the hallway. It was followed by the sound of footsteps running toward the spare bedroom on the other side, and then that bedroom door slammed.

  “I should call the police,” I said and reached for my phone. “That sounded like it might have actually been an intruder.”

  I slid out of the bed and closed the bedroom door as quickly and quietly as I could. Oddly enough, there was a deadbolt that I hadn’t noticed before. I tried to lock it, but it just twisted impotently.

  “We could hide in the closet.”

  Just as I said it, someone began to pound on the bedroom door. I swear that I almost peed my pants. Meri and I looked at each other and bolted for the closet.

  Somehow, I managed to drop my phone on the way to our hiding spot. I wanted to go back out and get it, but every time I reached for the closet door handle, who or whatever was out there would unleash another volley of knocks on the bedroom door.

  “They’re not coming in,” I finally said. “The bedroom door isn’t locked or anything, but they’re not coming in.”

  “We should go look,” Meri said. “I just have a feeling. I think I can protect us. This has gone far enough.”

  “Okay,” I said nervously.

  I stood up and exited the closet. Another round of knocks sounded on the other side of the bedroom door, but I forced myself to keep moving toward it.

  I put my hand on the knob and immediately noticed that it was ice cold. When I breathed out, my breath misted as the temperature in the room dropped down to freezing.

  “Enough,” I said and Meri and I both nodded our heads yes.

  I threw the door open, and no one was there. At least, no one was right outside the door. I saw the specter of a woman in a white dress drift down the stairs. I ran out to the landing and watched as she floated into the living room and then disappeared.

  “Let’s go back to bed,” Meri said.

  “We’re just going to go back to bed?”

  “What else are we going to do? She seems to be done with whatever she was trying to do, and I’m tired. It’s best if we try and ignore them as much as possible.”

  “Just ignore the ghosts?”

  “Just ignore the ghosts,” Meri confirmed, and we went back to bed.

  The next morning, I woke up with a burning hunger for more knowledge about my family and our magic. I figured the best place to start was the Coventry Library. If the town was truly supernatural in origin, there had to be book there that could shed some light on the magic business I’d stumbled into. The early morning’s run in with a ghost had almost been forgotten. In the light of day, it sort of felt like a distant memory of a bad dream. So, I decided to do what Meri had suggested and ignore it. I’d focus my efforts on researching witchcraft.

  I’d thought to check the internet, but I knew it would be too hard to tell what was real information and what was just made up junk to attract clicks.

  I had the sense that there had to be a section of magic books at the library, and I wasn’t going to get my hands on them unless I went there. I could nose around and find out where they were kept. If the Tuttlesmith family really did help found the city of Coventry, then I reasoned that I had a right to any books they’d helped procure for the library.

  Breakfast was leftover potatoes for me and a bowl of beef for Meri. He wanted to come along, but I said that I needed to feel out the situation before I brought him into the library in a tote bag. I’d gotten away with it when it came to Remy, but I worried the library would be a different story.

  The library was across from the courthouse. I parked my car on the street and crossed to the stone steps that led to the entrance. The place was huge, but it didn’t give that impression at first. I wondered if that was a spell. The thought came to me that it was spell to keep the humans from thinking too much about the parts of the library they couldn’t access.

  Inside, I could see that the library was split into two sections. Off to one side was busy with people browsing books and reading quietly in chairs.

  The other side said Halls of the Mystic, and there was no one in there. That sounded like the place I needed to be, so I started to go through the massive arch that marked the barrier between the entryway and the magic wing of the library.

  “Excuse me.” A shrill voice rang out in the quiet library, and I turned to see an older woman hurrying toward me.

  Despite the volume at which she’d called out to me, no one seemed to notice. “Excuse me,” she called again in a harsher tone.

  The woman was in her seventies and garbed in an ankle-length black dress with a purple smock on top. She had her gray hair pulled up in a severe bun at the back of her head that only served to accentuate her scowl.

  “You can’t go in there? Can’t you read? That wing is closed for construction,” she said and then tutted at me like I was soft in the head.

  “Read what?” I said. “This wing doesn’t look like it’s under construction. If it is, you should really put up a sign.”

  “You can’t see the sign?” she asked.

  “What sign? No, I don’t see a sign,” I said with a disbelieving shake of my head. Was this woman completely nuts?

  “Who are you?” She narrowed her eyes at me further.

  “I’m Brighton Longfield. I just moved into my great aunt’s house. I live in Hangman’s House. Anyway, I wanted to do some research, and this looks like exactly what I need,” I said.

  “Well, Ms. Longfield, I’m Amelda Skeenbauer. I’m the head librarian around here and also head of the Skeenbauer family. I suppose you know that your kind isn’t welcome here. The Tuttlesmiths aren’t welcome in Coventry. You should leave this library and Coventry before you force my hand.” She practically spit at me.

  “Force your hand at what?” I asked, but I really didn’t want to know. “Besides, I don’t have anywhere else to go. Hangman’s House is my home, and I intend to stay.” I squared my shoulders and defiantly maintained eye contact despite Amelda’s obvious attempt to stare me down.

  Amelda raised her hands up in front of her chest and curled her fingers into what looked like an imitation of claws. She began to chant something under her breath that I couldn�
�t quite understand, but I got the distinct feeling that I was about to be zapped, hexed, or cursed.

  “Grannie, knock it off.”

  I looked over Amelda’s shoulder and found Annika approaching us. She must have come in while Amelda was scolding me, and I hadn’t noticed because I’d been so focused on the fact that the witch was about to spell me with something unpleasant.

  Amelda’s hands went to her side, and her previously menacing demeanor melted somewhat. “It’s good to see you, Annika,” she said with a smile. “What brings you to the library today?”

  “I’m not sure. I just had a feeling that I was needed here, and it looks like my intuition was right. You should stop being so mean to my new friend,” Annika said as she wrapped one arm around her grandmother and then bent to give her a kiss on the temple. “Play nice.”

  “You can’t be friends with this….” Amelda bit back a curse when Annika shot her a reproving look. “You can’t be friends with a Tuttlesmith. It’s just not right.”

  “I love you, Grannie,” Annika said before coming over to me.

  She linked her arm through mine and led me toward the Halls of the Mystic. “Thank you,” I said as we walked under the arch.

  “Annika.” Amelda called out to us. The first part of the work “Ann” was quite stern, but her voice had deflated by the time she got to the “ika” part. “I love you too.”

  Annika and I took a seat at one of the huge mahogany tables in the magical research section. “You know, I don’t really pay much attention to all this magical stuff. It’s so important to my Grannie, but I could take it or leave it. But, I can probably help you with enough of it to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Out of trouble?”

  “Yeah, like the Rule of Three,” Annika said. “That’s something you have to know.”

  “What is the Rule of Three?”

  “The Rule of Three states that whatever you put out into this world, you get back times three. So, if you do good, you get good back in a measure of three times what you put into the world. But, if you do mean or harmful things, you also get those back times three,” she said. “Oh, but you can’t do good just to get good back times three, Brighton. That’s another one of the most important things. You cannot use any powers you have for personal gain. Magic is about nature and nature is about balance, so you can’t use it for personal gain and upset the balance.”

  “What about black and white magic?” I asked. “That’s what they talk about in the movies.”

  “Okay, so that definitely exists, but there are other types as well. Like, there’s green magic for example. Those are the witches that can heal someone by naming a plant after the sick person and then tending to it. They can grow the most delicious strawberries by fertilizing the soil with love and kindness from their heart. They’re basically nature fairies, but witches. Oh, and there are kitchen witches. They can weave magic into their cuisine. Some of them don’t even know they’re witches. People just see them as extremely talented cooks.”

  “But, black magic does exist?”

  “It does,” Annika said with a shrug. “But the rule of three keeps it in check. Most people aren’t willing to pay the price to use it. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they have to, but most people avoid it whenever they can.”

  “So, it’s not just evil witches that use black magic?”

  “Nope. I mean, a lot of black magic is evil, Brighton. Most of it is. But some of it has to do with communicating with the dead. And, there are ways and reasons to use it that aren’t inherently evil. It’s a gray area for sure. But, that’s because nature is a gray area. Gaia, that’s Mother Earth or Mother Nature, is both loving and cruel.”

  “So, how do I…” I wasn’t even sure how or what to ask.

  “How do you know what is okay and what isn’t?” Annika asked. “Well, the golden rule for witches is this: And it harm none, do what thou wilt.”

  “So, as long as you’re not hurting anyone, it’s okay,” I asked.

  “Yep. It’s pretty simple, huh? Well, I mean it can become complicated if you want it to. Like some witches believe that animals are a gift from the goddess to use and they eat meat. Some see animals as falling under the protection of the golden rule, and they don’t eat or use any animal products. So, vegans. And then there are the ones who believe that plants fall under that protection too. They try to live off the energy of the sun or something. Goddess bless them, they don’t last very long. They try though. But, it doesn’t have to be complicated for you, Brighton. Your heart will tell you what’s right for you. My intuition told me to come here today, so I did. If you’re not used to listening to your intuition, then it’s time to start.”

  “This is a lot,” I said.

  “It is probably pretty overwhelming, but you can always ask me if you need help. You’ve got Meri too. I assume that he’s made his introductions?”

  “He has.”

  “See, you’re going to be fine. I can feel it,” she said with a wink. “But, unless you’ve got more questions right now, I should probably get back to my shop. Fashion waits for no one. Oh, and someone boosted a rare amethyst and tiger’s eye necklace from the store. It was worth a ton, but my insurance company said they’re going to give me a hundred bucks. So, I’ve got to call them and yell at my claims adjuster.”

  As Annika and I walked out of the library, we ran into Ruby and another library patron talking on the front steps. I’d never met Ruby, but she and Annika exchanged hellos before Ruby launched back into giving the other woman an earful about “the nerve of that Sheriff Wilson for questioning me. I can’t believe he would accuse me of poisoning that Harkin jerk just because some of my castor beans are missing.”

  I couldn’t help but interrupt. “How do you know that some of your castor beans are missing?”

  “I keep my garden in pristine order. It is as neat and tidy as can be, but someone trampled my hemlock to get to the castor beans. They were also sloppy when they cut them off. I always make precise cuts. These beans were hacked off with… I don’t know. The savage probably cut them with dull scissors or something else equally as outrageous.”

  Ruby didn’t ask me why I wanted to know. She just turned back to her companion and began her conversation again. I got out of there before Ruby could ask me why I wanted to know about her castor beans. It was a good thing too, because I wasn’t even sure why I wanted to know just yet.

  Chapter Eight

  A few days later, I was still trying to settle into life in Coventry and come to terms with the fact that I was a was a witch from a formerly powerful coven.

  I hadn’t left the house much, but instead Meri had been trying to teach me the basics of magic. It turned out that doing magic wrong can be a disaster. Fortunately, Meri had been able to fix it when I almost burnt Hangman’s House down, busted a pipe in the kitchen, and nearly set a swarm of locusts on the neighbors.

  So, we’d stripped it down to the bare bones. He tried to teach me to feel my magic. “I think you’ll get a better idea if you go to the courthouse. It’s on the ley line, and you should be able to feel that. You just go there and stand on the node.”

  “And then what?” I asked. “I’ve been to the courthouse before. I didn’t feel anything.”

  “You’ve got to open yourself up to it. The statue out front is exactly on the node. Go stand in the circle the figures created. Close your eyes and open yourself up.”

  “I have no idea how to do that,” I said.

  “Just try it,” Meri huffed. “Please. If it doesn’t work, I’ll think of something else.”

  With those instructions in mind, I got in my car and drove to the town square. Car parked and mind as open as possible, I made my way to the witch statue in front of the courthouse.

  While I stood there with my eyes closed trying to feel the power flowing through the ley line node, I began to try and come up with a spell to help. I knew that magic could cause huge problems if it was used incorrectly, but I figured a
little chant about being open and receiving the universe’s energy couldn’t hurt. Unfortunately, I couldn’t come up with anything that rhymed.

  Also, I forgot that I was in public. I was standing there with my eyes closed trying to whisper a spell that wouldn’t cause an explosion or a plague, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  I jumped half out of my skin, and when I opened my eyes, Sheriff Thorn Wilson stood there looking a cross between amused and concerned. It was sort of the way people look at zoo animals when they are behaving strangely.

  “Is it true that you had a crazy great aunt that used to live in Coventry?” he asked.

  “I did. My Great Aunt Maude spent most of her life in an institution.”

  I answered him quickly before I realized that he was implying that I was crazy too. Before I could think of a brilliant response or get myself arrested for assaulting a police officer, Thorn just shook his head and started to walk away.

  It didn’t matter how handsome he was or how much his blue eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun, he didn’t get to make those kinds of insinuations. I went after him, and that time, I tapped him on the shoulder.

  He turned around to look at me, and his gorgeous blue eyes suddenly seemed stormy. “What is it?”

  “Maude may have been crazy, but she was a good loving woman. The world was a better place with her in it, and her passing was a loss. You should learn some manners. You’ve got this whole Deputy-Do-Right persona going on, but you’re secretly just a jerk.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but then just made a humph sound and walked off again. A couple of times, I thought he was going to stop and come back, but he didn’t. It was probably better that way as I doubt I’d endeared him to my cause.

  The worst part was that even though he’d all but accused me of being crazy, I found myself even more attracted to him. It was an inconvenient and unwelcome revelation, but I pushed it out of my mind when I saw Cassidy across the square pawing through the grass on the library lawn. I walked quickly over to where she was crying and searching.

 

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