Magic & Mystery: Starry Hollow Witches, Book 2

by Chase, Annabel

  “Where are you taking him? Marley asked.

  “Away from our vicious beast,” I replied. “I’m not in the mood to see a frog drawn and quartered by a dog.”

  Marley laughed. “PP3 can’t open the crate. He’s not a velociraptor.”

  “Better safe than sorry,” I called over my shoulder. I set the crate on the dresser in my bedroom. “There you go, boss. Nice and comfortable until this whole thing blows over.”

  Marley appeared in the doorway. “Mom, can we go check for Florian again before I do my homework? I’m not going to be able to concentrate.”

  Her statement gave me pause. Marley never got distracted enough to delay homework.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let me get changed out of my dress first. With my luck, I’d fall in the water and get pond scum all over my nice work clothes.”

  “I’ll get the pond net,” Marley said, her eyes shining with excitement. We’d picked up a pond net on the way home from school after much pleading and blinking of big, blue eyes. Cuteness was her superpower.

  She disappeared downstairs while I peeled off my dress and pulled shorts and a T-shirt from the drawer. My bra and underpants were a little bit sweaty, but it didn’t make sense to change them before chasing a frog around the pond. I changed my shoes and blew the vampire frog a kiss before joining Marley downstairs.

  “Should we leave PP3 behind?” Marley asked.

  “I think that would be best,” I replied. “If Florian is there, we don’t want to scare him off.”

  “Sorry, Prescott,” she said, giving the dog a pat on the head before we left the cottage.

  Marley babbled happily as we left the grounds of the estate and headed into the woods.

  “This is my favorite kind of tree,” Marley said. She swung on a low, crooked branch like it was a monkey bar.

  “It’s called a live oak,” I said. “We don’t have them in New Jersey.”

  Marley glanced upward. “Some of them are so big.”

  “Probably because they’re very old.” I stared at the large tree. “My dad used to talk about live oaks. He thought the trees in New Jersey were puny in comparison.”

  “I thought he never talked about Starry Hollow,” Marley said, now using the pond net to scoop up acorns off the ground.

  “He never mentioned the town specifically, but he definitely talked about live oaks. I remember because he said the wood from live oak was difficult to work with, but very strong, like me.” I smiled at the memory. “I guess I can see what he means.”

  “Do you miss your dad?” Marley asked. “You never talk about him.”

  I blinked back tears. “Every day.”

  Marley picked up an acorn and chucked it into the brush. “I miss mine, too.”

  I reached for her and kissed the top of her head. “At least we have each other.”

  “I wish you’d known your mom. I bet she was awesome, like you.”

  “No way,” I said. “I bet she was way more awesome than me. Like Wonder Woman awesome.”

  Marley beamed and took my hand. “You’re Athena awesome.”

  “The one that was born out of the god’s head?”

  She laughed. “Zeus. You never remember his name.”

  I tapped my chin. “So, you’re calling me the equivalent of a giant headache.”

  “No,” Marley said in protest. “She’s the goddess of wisdom. She’s the best one.”

  “What? There’s no goddess of Dorito eating?” Now that was a field I could dominate.

  Marley gasped. “I see frogs.” She ran ahead to the pond, clutching the pond net.

  “You can’t catch them all,” I said. “They’re not Pokémon. And what if none of them is Florian? Either way, we’ll have all these frogs in the house after the spell is broken.” Assuming the spell could be broken. I thought of Artemis Haverford’s boyfriend and shivered. It seemed there were no guarantees when it came to magic.

  Marley stood at the edge of the pond and observed the two frogs on lily pads. “Do you think one looks more like Florian than the other?”

  I scrutinized the frogs. “Not really. They’re both small and green. I don’t see any telltale markers, like Alec’s fangs.”

  “What do you think would happen if we let Alec loose out here?” Marley asked. “Would he bite the other frogs?”

  “No clue.” And not eager to find out.

  “Here, froggy,” Marley called and whistled to the frogs.

  “What’s the point of calling them both?” I queried. “You only want the frog that’s Florian. Not to mention the fact that Florian might be the frog we put back in the enclosure at Thornhold.” The uncertainty was driving me bonkers.

  Marley lunged forward, trying to scoop one of the frogs into the net. It quickly hopped out of reach.

  “Couldn’t we use magic to decide which frog was Florian?” she asked. “Even if we can’t turn him back ourselves?”

  I shook my head. “That’s above my pay grade, sweetheart. And if we ask for help with a spell, then we’ll have to admit what we did.”

  Marley bit her lip. “I don’t love our options.”

  “That’s why they’re called hard choices.” I contemplated the frogs. “Let’s do this. Spend the next ten minutes trying to catch one or both. If we don’t manage it, we’ll go home and try again another time. You have homework to do and I need to make dinner.”

  “I hate the idea of leaving him here again,” she complained.

  “But we don’t know that we are,” I said. I gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Try to have faith, Marley. The frogs seem to like this pond, so if he is out here, we’ll find him when the time comes.”

  Marley hefted the pond net. “Ten minutes?”

  I set the timer on my phone. “Ready. Set. Go.”

  Marley ran around the pond, careful not to fall into the water. She reached and splashed with the net to no avail. The frogs outsmarted her by staying smack dab in the middle of the pond, just out of reach. The timer beeped, signaling an end to Capture the Frog.

  “One more minute,” Marley pleaded.

  “A deal’s a deal,” I said. “Let’s go. Duty calls.”

  “What do you think Aunt Hyacinth would do to us if she knew what happened?” Marley asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the frogs in the pond. “Probably turn us into flies.”

  Marley shuddered. “Let’s never tell her. Promise?”

  Good to know her instinct for self-preservation was firmly intact.

  “Promise.”

  Just as I told Sheriff Nash I would, I returned to Haverford House with cleaning supplies, a makeup bag, and my champion helper, Marley. Unsurprisingly, she’d insisted on coming along under the guise of ‘seeing’ Jefferson for herself, but I knew that her real plan was to stick to me like glue. I'd given her the whole story about Artemis Haverford and Jefferson, thinking that she’d be too scared to join me. It seemed to have the opposite effect.

  "This is the perfect chance to practice your telekinetic skills," Marley said. "And whatever you can't do with magic, I'll be there to help you."

  "It's not going to be an easy task," I said. "Even the dust has dust."

  "All the more reason I should come. I’m a much better cleaner than you.”

  Aunt Hyacinth’s driver was kind enough to deliver us to Haverford House, prompting my aunt to mention my need for a car again. Although I’d managed walking into town and to school, places like Haverford House were too far to go on foot. A car would also make grocery shopping easier. So far, I’d been using a backpack and buying only as much as I could carry.

  Artemis was so shocked by our arrival, she appeared to be suffering from a case of the vapors. I half expected her to shout for her smelling salts.

  “Good afternoon, Artemis,” I said. “You said I was welcome back anytime, so here I am. And I brought my daughter, Marley.”

  Emotion flooded the old witch’s face. “You brought a child…to see me?”

  I brushed p
ast her and into the darkened house. “I guess I can see why that’s not typical.”

  Marley stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Haverford.”

  The witch looked from Marley to me in disbelief. "Based on the mop in your hand, I gather you’re here for an altogether different purpose than matchmaking.”

  "In the human world, we have all these TV shows revolving around makeovers," I said. "There are more than a dozen house shows where a decrepit place is transformed into a grand home and plenty of shows about transforming people." Whether it was weight loss or choosing more flattering clothes, there seemed to be a show for every kind of transformation.

  "And that's what you plan to do here?” she queried. "A makeover?"

  I held up a shopping bag. "On your house and you.”

  She gestured for us to come further into the house. "You know, Miss Rose, there are many people in town that would think you’re downright crazy to insult me like this. Haven’t you heard? I’m a scary old witch.”

  I blinked. "Insult you? This is the highest compliment. Do you think I take time out of my busy schedule to help just anybody?"

  Marley gave a solemn shake of her head. “Trust me. She doesn’t. She’s not a people pleaser.”

  Artemis appeared mildly amused. "So what is it about me that made you decide I was worth the trouble?"

  I studied her. "You lost someone you loved and you’ve locked yourself away ever since. Let's say I can relate to that."

  “Your husband?” Artemis asked.

  “Daddy died four years ago in an accident,” Marley interjected. “I keep trying to get Mom to start dating again, but she’s resistant.”

  Artemis pursed her pruned lips. “Resistant, is she?”

  “Busy more than resistant,” I said.

  “I have many successful pairings under my belt,” Artemis said. “I take great pride in my work.”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “But I’m still adjusting to a new life in a new town as a descendant of the witch to beat all witches.”

  Artemis chuckled. “The One True Witch.”

  “That’s the one.” I sighed. “I don’t feel capable of putting my trust in someone new right now, not while I’m navigating this insane path.”

  “Without trust, my sweet, there is no hope for a relationship,” Artemis said.

  I folded my arms. “You see my dilemma.”

  “You had fun with Ben,” Marley interjected.

  “Having fun with someone isn’t the same as wanting a romantic relationship with him,” I said. And, to be honest, I’d preferred talking to Alec, a realization that refused to die a quick death. The thought was like the vampire himself, stealthy and popping up when I least expected it.

  “It’s a good start, though, isn’t it?” Artemis said.

  I ignored her remark. I had zero romantic interest in Ben cute-as-a-button Witherspoon and no one could convince me otherwise.

  “I think we should start down here,” I said, surveying the main floor. This would definitely be a multiple-day job.

  "I'll have Jefferson bring us some tea first,” Artemis said. “Give us our strength. And what about for you, young lady? A glass of milk?"

  "If you throw a little chocolate in there, I'm sure that will do the trick," I said.

  Artemis smiled. "That can be arranged."

  I'd warned Marley about the witch’s rotting teeth before our arrival. I hadn't wanted her to react to the gruesome sight. To her credit, Marley’s face remained expressionless.

  Marley couldn't hide her pleasure when the tray floated into the room and a tall glass of chocolate milk found its way into her eager hand.

  "Thank you, Jefferson," Marley said, glancing awkwardly around the room.

  "He's over by the hutch," Artemis said, with a flick of her bony fingers.

  Marley focused her attention on the hutch. "Thank you," she said again.

  “Artemis can't see him," I said. "But she can sense him. Not just his location, but his emotions, too, isn't that right?"

  She nodded. "Our connection has grown stronger over time. It took me many years to develop such a keen sense of him. He and Clementine are my only company most days, unless I have a customer.”

  At the mention of her name, Clementine ambled into the room. I imagined her as a kitten at one time, tearing through the house and clinging to the heavy drapes by her claws. Marley, of course, wasn't the least bit bothered by the sorry state of the cat. She approached her with the same excitement as she would a beautiful Abyssinian kitten.

  “Hi, Clementine,” she said. “Look at you, pretty girl.”

  Clementine approached her cautiously, sniffing the air around her. I watched nervously as Clementine lowered her head, allowing Marley to touch her.

  "Well, that's a huge endorsement," Artemis said. "You are most certainly welcome here, young lady. Clementine isn't a moody cat, but she is very particular."

  Marley beamed.

  "Marley has always had a special way with cats,” I said. "Except Fanta. It took years for Marley to win her over."

  "That was our neighbor's cat," Marley explained. "She finally let me pet her without biting me, and then we ended up having to escape to here the same day.”

  Artemis shot me a quizzical look. "What does she mean by that? Why did you have to escape to here?"

  I relayed our story about Jimmy the Lighter and the Rose-Muldoon cousins coming to save us.

  "And I thought my story was interesting," Artemis said, folding her arms. "Color me impressed."

  After tea, we set to work, pulling down the heavy drapes and replacing them with sheer curtains to let in the sunlight. Marley dusted every item within reach.

  I used Linnea’s old wand to perform basic cleaning tasks. Grow my magic muscle. I watched with satisfaction as a mop moved back and forth across the wooden floors. I only managed to finish the foyer before I felt myself losing energy. That was less ground than I’d hoped to cover.

  “Why doesn’t Jefferson clean?” Marley asked, as she dusted between the spindles of the banister.

  “That’s not his role,” Artemis said. “And I haven’t been bothered enough by the mess to do anything about it.”

  “Because you’ve been too busy wallowing in self-pity?” I asked.

  Her eyes popped. “My, my. You are direct, aren’t you?”

  I shrugged. “Listen, nobody does you any favors by pretending your living quarters are acceptable. People must be desperate to come here for matchmaking, given the state of the place.” And the state of you, I thought.

  Artemis inhaled deeply and focused on the mop. “I’m not telekinetic, but I used to know a good many spells for moving objects.” She twisted her index and middle fingers and muttered a phrase I didn’t recognize. The mop began to glide across the floor again.

  “Great,” I said. “You should probably do the living room next. The foyer’s pretty much done.”

  The mop floated through the room until it reached its destination.

  “What else is on your list?” Artemis asked.

  “You.” I held up my cosmetics bag. “Where’s your bedroom? I need to see what else is in your closet besides that tattered dress you insist on wearing. I’m no historian, but I’m pretty sure it went out of fashion in the 1850s.”

  Artemis suppressed a smile. “Upstairs. First door on the right.”

  “You hang out here with Marley and I’ll see what I can find.” I took the stairs two at a time and was surprised to see Clementine keeping pace with me. She was probably concerned I was moving in on her territory.

  The master bedroom looked like something out of Southern Belle Magazine, if such a thing existed. The room smelled musty and stale, and I choked back a cough. I was assaulted by frills and lace in every direction. Standing in the room was like hiding under a hoop skirt.

  Before I could reach the closet door, an unseen hand opened it for me.

  “Um, thanks,” I said. Although I couldn’t see Jefferson, I had to a
ssume he was responsible.

  An apricot-colored dress floated out of the closet. “That’s your choice, huh? It looks good as new.”

  I watched as the dress floated to the bed. The floor-length dress was tasteful and pretty for a woman of any age. I wondered how old it actually was.

  “She’s thin as a beanpole, so I guess it will still fit,” I mused.

  From the down the hallway, I heard the sound of running water. I followed the noise until I reached a grand bathroom with a candlelit chandelier and a deep, clawfoot tub. The water was slowly rising in the tub and I realized what Jefferson was doing.

  “Good idea, but I draw the line at bathing her,” I said. “Feel free to lend a transparent hand. Make sure you wash behind her ears.”

  A bottle of scented body wash floated down from the shelf. It appeared full and unopened. Maybe a thoughtful gift from a grateful customer.

  “I’ll let her know you’ve drawn her bath,” I said, exiting the bathroom.

  What an old witch and a ghostly manservant got up to in the privacy of their own bathroom was their business.

  When I returned downstairs, Marley and Artemis were playing a game on the coffee table.

  I gave Marley a pointed look. “You’ve abandoned your chores already?”

  “It was time for a rest,” Artemis said. “No need to accomplish everything in one visit.”

  Very wily, old witch. She wanted a reason for us to come back.

  “Is this chess?” I asked, observing the board.

  Marley grinned from ear to ear. “It’s a special coven chessboard.”

  “It belonged to my father,” Artemis said. “Marley was kind enough to dust off the pieces.”

  The board itself looked normal enough, but the chess pieces were different from the ones I’d seen in the human world. The figures were witches, wizards, elves, dragons, and some fat guys that may have been trolls. The game was like the love child of Dungeons & Dragons and chess.

  “They move across the board for you,” Marley said. “You just tell them where to go and they do it.”

  “Amazing,” I said. “Imagine if children were as obedient as these chess pieces.”