Looking for Mr. Good Witch

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Looking for Mr. Good Witch Page 2

by Joyce


  “Don’t let them kid you,” he said. “Magic is all about fun and excitement. If you don’t have fun with it, you get old and cranky—like my grandfather.”

  We all knew that Brian’s grandfather, Abdon, was more than cranky. He was an obnoxious egomaniac. He was a member of the Grand Council of Witches. Their rules made most witches cringe.

  “I guess we’re through with fire and air,” Elsie said. “Molly, would you declare for water?”

  I nodded and grasped my mother’s amulet, which hung around my neck. “Water is the feminine element of the subconscious mind. It is wisdom, strength and growth. It is the heart of life.” I closed my eyes. “I am Molly Addison Renard. I am a water witch who lives between the river and the sea. My direction is west. My color is blue, and my time is twilight. My tool is the cauldron. Let the water flow from every direction and heal the earth.”

  There was complete silence around me as I finished my declaration. My feet were wet, but I hadn’t noticed until I’d finished.

  Opening my eyes was a surprise. The Cape Fear River, which is normally at the mouth of our cave, had begun to flow inside. Not only was I standing in gray-green water to my ankles—so was everyone else.

  The cave had been here in the old port city of Wilmington, North Carolina, since the time of smugglers. I wasn’t sure if it had come this far over its banks in a hundred years or more. It had never happened in the last twenty years that we’d had held ceremonies here.

  “Molly, what in the world is going on?” Olivia was the only one with dry feet. “And where is the cauldron necklace you should be using as your tool? Did you take it off?”

  “Let me take care of this problem first.” I closed my eyes and held the amulet, seeing in my mind’s eye the water flowing back where it belonged.

  “That was almost as good as my hurricane.” Brian applauded. “Dorothy, what do you have in mind—an earthquake?”

  Elsie came to my side with curiosity and confusion in her green eyes. “Molly? I’ve known you all your life. When did you get the magic to do something like that? Where did you get it? You didn’t even have that kind of power when we were young.”

  I opened my eyes. The water was gone, leaving a few fish and some marks on the sand where it had been. We quickly put the gasping fish into a bucket of river water that we kept in the cave for ceremonial purposes. “I’m sorry. I stopped wearing the cauldron because I didn’t need it. There’s magic stored in this amulet that relates to my family and other water witches.”

  Dorothy smiled. “That’s a good thing, right? Maybe you won’t have to give up being a witch and move to Boca after all. We can all stay here together and look for your missing spell book. I’d like that.”

  “Me too.” Elsie hugged her. “And Olivia has a hundred years as a ghost before she has to leave. It sounds like a party to me. I’ll have to look through my mother’s old things and see if she left me something powerful to reclaim my magic.”

  “Shall we finish our declarations before Molly gets all out of sorts again?” Olivia asked. “Dorothy, it’s your turn.”

  “Okay.” She smiled. “I hope I don’t do anything catastrophic.”

  Dorothy closed her eyes to concentrate. “Earth doesn’t represent the physical earth, like you told me. It is the realm of abundance and prosperity. I am Dorothy Lane Dunst, and I am an earth witch. My direction is north. My color is green. My time is midnight. My tool is the stone.” She held up the emerald cull she’d found on the riverbank. “Is that it?”

  “Sweet.” Brian focused on Dorothy. “I want a magic gemstone.”

  “You have to draw a circle in the sand with your stone,” Olivia told her. “Mind the fish.”

  Dorothy dropped to her knees and drew a circle near the fire in the sand. “What should I say?”

  “Your stone represents you and your earth magic,” I coached. “You’re imbuing your tool with your magic.”

  “Okay. Part of my earth magic is in my stone now. My strength and magic come from the earth, but not the dirt.” She looked up and smiled. “How was that?”

  “Did you feel anything?” Olivia asked her.

  “No. Not really. What am I supposed to feel?”

  “No one can tell you that,” Elsie added. “You feel what you feel. But I’m not feeling any magic from it. Try it again with more conviction.”

  Dorothy pushed her hair away from her face and puffed out her cheeks. She grasped the emerald cull in one hand and began drawing a circle again in the sand with the other. “My earth magic is now in my stone. My strength and magic come from the earth, but not the dirt.”

  “Not feeling it,” Elsie said. “Something wrong?”

  “I’m just thinking about all those new books that have to be shelved at the library. New books mean that old books are going to be thrown away. I always hate choosing which ones have to go.”

  “That’s the problem,” Olivia said. “You’re not concentrating. I told you to give up your old job at the library. I left you plenty of money. There’s no reason for you to work at all. I never worked a day in my life.”

  “But I love my job,” Dorothy said with a pleading expression on her face. “I don’t want to quit.” She glanced at me. “Molly, you were a teacher for many years. You still did magic.”

  “That’s true,” I agreed. “So did Elsie. My parents didn’t leave me a lot of money and a house. I had to work for a living. You have to learn to compartmentalize. When you’re doing magic, that’s all you’re doing. You can’t think about work or anything else.”

  Dorothy sat on the sand. “I’m sorry. I know that I have to concentrate on the magic, but it’s really hard, since I know all those books are going to be thrown away.”

  “The best thing for a clear mind is to get rid of the problems,” Elsie added. “I have an idea. Don’t throw the books away—bring them here and we’ll give them away to customers when they come in. I’m sure there are plenty of witches who have children.”

  “What a great idea.” Dorothy grinned. “Could I really do that?”

  I agreed with Elsie. “Why not? I’m sure it would be fine.”

  Dorothy made a loud squealing sound, as she frequently did when she was excited. She got up and hugged Elsie and me before giving Olivia the air hug they’d started doing. She turned to Brian and stopped.

  “What? Don’t I get the group hug too?” He held out his arms.

  She slowly walked into his embrace. The two of them tightly hugged each other. Brian let out a deep, satisfied sigh and pulled her closer, turning his head toward her face.

  Dorothy took a sudden step back. “There you go.” She awkwardly patted his shoulder.

  Elsie and I exchanged knowing glances. The relationship between Brian and Dorothy had been slowly transforming into something more. We couldn’t agree if it was a good thing or bad thing. Romance between witches in the same coven could be a distraction to a witch just learning what to do.

  “I think we should go upstairs now,” Olivia said abruptly. She definitely didn’t like the idea of Dorothy and Brian having a relationship. No one was good enough for the daughter she’d only recently found again. Besides, Olivia had dated Brian right before her death. It was a bit awkward.

  Just as we were about to ascend our newly rebuilt stairway (young male witches are good for many things) that led from the cave to a trapdoor in Smuggler’s Arcane, there was a flash of blinding light and the overpowering scent of roses.

  “Cassandra.” Elsie shook her head. “I was hoping not to see her again for an eon or so.”

  “Ladies.” Cassandra Black, one of the heralds of the Grand Council of Witches, appeared in the cave. She was tall and thin with long black hair that flowed past her waist. She claimed to be at least a thousand years old. I might not have believed it if I’d never looked into her dark eyes.

  “Cassandra.�
� I knew her appearance wouldn’t be for anything good. We rarely saw her. When she showed up, it was usually because of a crisis in the council—the governing body of witches. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

  My heart was beating fast. Despite my outward calm, I was still terrified that the council had heard Joe’s mumbled remark about me being a witch.

  Those without magic who learned of the existence of the witching world were condemned to have their memories wiped away. It was a curse that had destroyed many witch–non-witch marriages. Wiping away memories was a tricky thing. Many times those memories held more than just information about witches. It could leave a person slack-jawed and blank.

  “Thank you, Molly.” Cassandra smiled graciously. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. The council has asked me to spread the word.”

  “Why doesn’t the council send out an email like everyone else?” Dorothy asked.

  Cassandra’s midnight eyes dismissed her. “Someone is killing witches, and the problem seems to be headed your way.”

  CHAPTER 2

  It is forever within you.

  Blessed are the witches.

  “What do you mean someone is killing witches?” Elsie demanded. “I always thought we put up with council interference in our lives because the council protected us from such things. Remind me again what you do if you don’t protect us.”

  It was a massive statement for Elsie. She tended to look the other way on most things.

  I had to agree that it seemed the council was slack on their job, but I was relieved that Cassandra wasn’t here to take Joe away from me.

  “We’re a little touchy today, aren’t we?” Cassandra’s black gown swung around her as though a breeze were blowing. “None of you has any idea what the witching world was like before the council was formed. There was complete chaos. We can’t control every situation for you. We do our best to keep you safe. Telling you about possible threats is one way we accomplish that.”

  “Thanks for that.” Brian snickered.

  Cassandra speared him with her gaze. “What are you still doing here? I don’t think your grandfather would be happy to learn that you’re part of this coven now.”

  “Excuse me?” Olivia swooped down low. “Are you saying we’re not good enough for Brian?”

  “Begone, wraith!” Cassandra held up one hand and turned her head away. “I don’t speak to the disembodied.”

  “I think it’s about time the disembodied got their own council or guild, like the witches, werewolves and other supernatural creatures,” Olivia said. “We deserve respect too, you know. I might just be the ghost to create that organization.”

  Cassandra turned back to her, eyes blazing. “You exist by the indulgent sufferance of the council. Normally when a witch bizarrely chooses to become a ghost, we dispose of her.”

  Olivia pushed her form into Cassandra’s face. “Just try it. I’m not going gently into that good night.”

  Dorothy pulled her back—so to speak. She reached for her mother’s arm. Her hand went inside Olivia.

  “Oh, Dorothy.” Olivia shook all over. “You know Mother doesn’t like to be touched in her current state, honey. It makes me feel like spiders are walking on me.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” Dorothy nodded at Cassandra, trying to hint at a coming conflict if Olivia didn’t back down.

  Olivia sighed and moved away from the herald. “I’m not kidding about raising an army of specters to defend our rights. I haven’t even been dead a year and I’m already feeling oppressed.”

  Cassandra took a deep breath and turned to me. “Molly, I know you have your hands full with your new witch and your friends. But this is serious business. Already nine people have died. I’ll be speaking to the covens at the full moon celebration tomorrow night. I’m asking for everyone’s cooperation. This affects every witch in Wilmington.”

  “I understand. I’ll do what I can to help.” I wondered why she’d singled me out. She knew I was retiring soon, like Elsie.

  Perhaps it was because Brian’s magic bordered on the rogue, and Dorothy’s magic was still lacking ability. Elsie was clearly angry about this warning. That left only me.

  I assured myself that it had nothing to do with Joe and me.

  “That’s it,” Cassandra declared. “Have a nice day.” She disappeared in a puff of rose-scented smoke.

  “I’d be tempted to run for council just to learn that trick,” Elsie muttered. “I think we were on our way upstairs.”

  When we were finally upstairs in our shop, Dorothy said, “I’m surprised witches have been around as long as they have. Nine dead witches!”

  “It’s unusual.” Elsie started a pot of tea. She had to do it without magic. While she was strong in her declaration during the ceremony, many of the day-to-day magic that we took for granted had begun to elude us.

  It was nothing when we were younger to make tea, wash the dishes and get dressed using our magic. Now, we had to be careful that we didn’t break the dishes, shred our clothes and make something poisonous in our teapots.

  Olivia had escaped retirement with her passing. Elsie and I were still tasked with finding three witches to replace the three who’d taken over our coven from our mothers and grandmothers. We also had to hand over our spell book before we could retire with the large group of witches who lived in Boca Raton.

  We’d located Dorothy, who could replace Olivia. But our spell book had been lost to a thief at the same time as Olivia’s death. So now we needed two witches and a good spell to find our book.

  Many witches had extended family to give their covens to, but Elsie had only one daughter, Aleese, and she was without magic. I had one son, Mike, who was also without magic. Olivia had her one daughter, who fortunately had powerful magic though she was unschooled. She would head the coven, but for the first time, two spots would pass to witches outside our three families.

  Dorothy got the tea. She did it standing on a step stool. I sighed. She couldn’t remember to use her magic for these small things yet.

  “Whatever are you doing, honey?” Olivia asked her.

  “Getting the tea like I do every day.” Dorothy was completely unaware.

  “Use your magic. You’re never going to get control of it if you don’t use it.”

  Dorothy blushed and started back down the step stool.

  “Let me get that for you.” Brian lifted her from the last step with his hands at her waist and then procured the tea in the colorful tin from the third shelf with a wave of his hand.

  Olivia slapped a spectral hand to her forehead and shook her head at me. “I don’t think this is going to work, Molly. Everyone does everything for her—especially him.”

  I knew Olivia’s biggest problem with Brian had nothing to do with witchcraft and everything to do with losing her daughter to a man—especially this man. But I agreed with her about his interference in Dorothy’s training. She had such a sweet personality that everyone wanted to help her. In this case, helping her was actually hurting her.

  “Brian, you have to let Dorothy use her magic,” Elsie said before I could.

  “She wasn’t using magic,” he pointed out. “What difference does it make?”

  “I think the difference is that I’m supposed to be using magic.” Dorothy smiled. “Sorry. I keep forgetting and doing things the other way.”

  Brian still had his arm around Dorothy’s waist. They exchanged a few murmured words, and he let her go.

  Olivia came in close to me at the table. “Say something about him keeping his hands to himself too.”

  “I’m not getting involved in that unless there’s a problem between them,” I whispered.

  “I can’t say anything, Molly. It sounds like sour grapes if I complain, and it makes me very uncomfortable.”

  “I’m sorry it happened this way, Olivia. But my concern is for Dorot
hy’s progress as a witch. I’m not her chaperone. You’re going to have to look the other way.”

  She huffed loudly and fled to the ceiling, where she got entangled with the old ceiling fan. Elsie laughed when she saw Olivia going around and around with it.

  The tea was ready. Elsie had used the old copper spoon to measure out the exact amount into each of our cups. My cup was the goldfish. Elsie’s had flamingos on it. Olivia’s cup was star-shaped, and Dorothy’s had a tree for her earth magic. We’d recently purchased a cup for Brian too—stars and a dog staring at the moon. It had seemed appropriate for him, but I couldn’t tell if he liked it or not.

  The scent of chamomile and mint filled the shop. We sat down at the small table together a little awkwardly after years of it only being the three of us. Olivia hovered above us, unable to drink the tea from her cup. She said she enjoyed looking at it and being part of our old ritual anyway.

  “Should we put up some extra spells on the shop?” Elsie asked. “For the witch killers coming our way, I mean.”

  I gazed around Smuggler’s Arcane. It held an extensive library of magic books, charms, herbs, potions and other amenities for local witches. It was also our sanctuary from the rest of the world. When we had problems, we came here to solve them. It had become the center of our witching lives.

  “That’s probably a good idea,” I said. “Harper is here full-time now that Olivia is gone. I don’t like the idea of someone sneaking up on him.”

  “I’m not gone,” Olivia remarked. “I’m right here and you know it, Molly. Don’t you start with that ghost-abuse stuff.”

  “I’m sorry, but you know what I meant. I had hoped Harper would go back to your house once Dorothy moved there with you, but I guess he’s put off by Hemlock being there.”

  “You know two familiars don’t like to be together in the same house,” Elsie said.

  “It was just a thought.” I bent down to stroke Harper’s silver-blue fur. He’d been much friendlier to us recently. I’d thought he was getting over Olivia’s death very well, but he wouldn’t go home.

 

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