The Strongman's Spell: A Marley the Witch Mystery
Marley the Witch Cozy Mystery
Amorette Anderson
Published by Amorette Anderson, 2020.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE STRONGMAN'S SPELL: A MARLEY THE WITCH MYSTERY
First edition. May 21, 2020.
Copyright © 2020 Amorette Anderson.
Written by Amorette Anderson.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
The Artist’s Alchemy | A Marley the Witch Mystery (Book #2)
Also by Amorette Anderson
Prologue
Skili was soaring through the air above me, leading the way. I followed her trajectory, weaving between amber-trunked pinion pines and wispy white aspens. The trail was steep and covered with a thin layer of snow. I was hungry, thirsty, and more energized than I’d ever felt in my entire life.
I was finally going to have my first vision.
Skili promised me that I would, and I believed her with every cell of my witchy body.
As I climbed, the snow-covered trail became rockier. Soon I was scaling large swaths of exposed rock. As the rock faces became steeper, I found myself using my hands as well as my feet. The sky was getting dark.
My thirst was almost unbearable.
My lungs burned, aching for air.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. My legs were so fatigued, I felt my muscles protest with each step.
I reached the top of a particularly steep incline, and noticed that the side of one hand was bleeding. I’d scraped it against a rough rock as I climbed.
“Skili, I’m excited about this vision quest,” I transmitted telepathically to my feathered familiar. “But I don’t know how much farther my body can go. You said not to use magic to help me travel, plus no food and water, so I’ve had nothing all day. We’re so high up... The air is so thin, and it’s getting dark. I trust you, but...” My message ended as a particularly strong sense of lightheadedness hit me. I reached out for a tree to steady myself. With my hand on the tree, I lowered myself down, down, down, until I sat against the cold earth. The little patch of snow beneath the tree felt so soft—like a mattress. I longed to lie down.
“On your feet,” Skili transmitted in her usual clipped tone.
“I can’t,” I said.
“You can.”
That was that. I took a few breaths, and pressed myself back up.
An hour later, the sky was pitch black, the stars were brilliant in the moonless sky, and Skili swooped into a dark hole and disappeared.
At first, I thought I’d imagined her disappearance. I blinked a few times, trying to get my eyes to focus and pick out her form amidst the silhouettes of trees and rocks.
But she was gone. I followed her path and found myself crawling into a rocky cave.
It was so dark, I couldn’t even see my hand when I held it right in front of my face. I had no idea what might be around me—rugged stone walls, dripping with icicles? Loamy earth, woven with roots and earthworms? I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to reach my hands out to try to figure it out.
Instead, I reached out to Skili with my mind.
“Skili... where are we? Where have you led me? What should I do now? I’ve never been in such inky, all-consuming darkness. It’s hard to orient myself.”
“Don’t try,” Skili directed in her sharp and raspy tone.
“Don’t try?” I repeated. I wasn’t sure what she meant. “I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed,” I said.
“They’re both... and neither. Sit down.”
I did as she said. As I fumbled to figure out where the earth was below me, I found a dry rocky ledge to lean against. I took a cross-legged position and leaned back against the smooth rock.
“Now wait,” she said. “Watch. Listen.”
I did as she said.
I waited.
I watched.
I listened.
And then it happened: a flicker of light, a sound. I didn’t know if I was awake or dreaming. I just tried to watch.
The light took form. The sounds became words. And then, my dead grandmother, Catori Greene, was standing before me.
Her whole body was shimmering, and she emitted a faint light that glowed against the cave walls. She wore her hair in a long gray braid that draped over her shoulder. Her skin was caramel colored, like mine. Her face was wrinkled with wisdom, her eyes were bright.
“Marley, child,” she said. Her voice had the same raspy quality that Skili’s did, but it was distinctly gentler. “I’m so happy to meet you. I’ve waited so long.” She approached, and enveloped me in a hug. I felt love surround me. My chill disappeared. I felt warm to the core. When she let me go, I found that I was crying. The tears felt hot against my cheek. I licked my lips and they tasted salty.
“You’re crying with relief,” she said.
“Why?” I asked. I didn’t understand the emotion flooding me.
“Because you’ve been waiting, too—just as I have. You’ve been waiting your whole life, child, twenty-nine long years. Don’t worry. The time has arrived.”
“Time for what?” I asked.
“The time for you to finally act,” she said. “You’ve been studying magic—correct?”
“Yes,” I said with a nod. Tears continued streaming down my cheeks. I felt as if I’d finally arrived at a moment that I’d been seeking for years. The feeling of relief at making it to this point was immense and vast—as if I’d been walking through a desert for my entire life, and now finally I’d stumbled upon a clear spring of water to drink.
The vision of my grandmother and the words she spoke were truer than anything I’d ever experienced.
“It’s time for you to use your magic,” she said. “You can be idle no more.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “I haven’t been idle.”
“Oh, yes you have,” she said. Her admonishing tone reminded me so much of Skili, which made sense. Skili had informed me early on in our relationship that she shared my gran’s soul. “You’ve been passive,” Catori continued. “Afraid to act.”
“I have?”
She nodded. “No more. The time has come for action. I have a task for you.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“You must create a safe haven for seekers on the land that your grandfather and I lived on—the old mine which you inherited. Turn it into a sanctuary. The world is thirsty—so very thirsty, Marley child. Create a fountain of truth from which all beings can drink.”
Chapter One
I woke up with a feeling of panic blossoming in my chest.
I opened my eyes and the world, heavy and bright, came filtering into my mind.
Dreams from the night before faded away.
Granny Catori Greene. The cave.
It was the same dream I’d had ever since Skili took me on a vision quest in late February.
Skili had led me up the side of a mountain. I scrambled up the trail, without food or water, and then collapsed w
ith fatigue in the dark cave. The vision that I had in that cave was more real than anything I’d ever seen. I got to meet my grandmother, and have a conversation with her.
Since my time in the cave, I’ve dreamed about my gran every night.
It’s like she’s visiting me in my dreams, so that I don’t forget the message she imparted:
“You must create a safe-haven for seekers on the land that your grandfather and I lived on—the old mine which you inherited. Turn it into a sanctuary. The world is thirsty—so very thirsty, Marley child. Create a fountain of truth from which all beings can drink.”
I lay still for a moment, trying to adjust to being awake. Then I blinked a few times.
A pale lavender sky shimmered, just outside of my vintage VW van’s window, through the strings of my dream catcher. I closed my eyes again and laid one hand on my chest, and one on my stomach.
What was this feeling of panic all about?
Ah, yes.
Opening weekend of my new retreat center: the Greene Center for Magical Living.
Am I ready? I wondered.
Before I could answer myself, Skili began to hoot, just outside of my van.
That wasn’t like her. Skili, my great horned owl familiar, was usually quiet in the morning, like me. We were both slow to cross from the dream world into this one, and we tend to give each other plenty of space until at least ten.
“What’s gotten into her?” I grumbled as I pushed the pile of blankets off of me, shifted out of my small bed, and pulled open the sliding van door.
Skili is not a soft, cuddly familiar. In fact, she’s just the opposite: sharp and abrasive—thanks to her talons, beak, and piercing golden glare. When I first started learning witchcraft a little over a year ago, I assumed that the Universe would provide me with a fluffy black cat to stand by me through thick and thin as I acclimated to my witchy powers.
Not so.
The Great Universe, bless her soul, gave me an owl.
Not just any owl, either. This owl was animated by the spirit of my grandmother, a strong-willed witch named Catori Greene.
“Get up,” Skili transmitted to my mind telepathically, the moment my bare feet hit the cold dirt. “Today, you meet your destiny and stare it right in the eye.” She glowered at me in that way that she does, which is pure Granny glare.
“I know,” I transmitted back. “Opening weekend... do you think I’m ready?” I hugged myself to ward off a chill. It was early March, and the Colorado mountain air was cold. Snow still dusted the ground around us.
“No, I don’t,” she responded.
My chin drifted downwards.
I heard Skili swoop down from the branch she was perched on, her feathers slicing through the morning air. Then I felt her feathers on my chin, guiding it up.
Her golden-ringed pupils stared into mine. “Child, here’s a small secret for you. You are never ready to face your destiny. Facing it makes you ready.”
I sighed, and then broke eye contact. I looked past my feathered friend to the shiny new three-story building that stood at the edge of the lot. It used to be a rundown building that was part of my grandfather’s gold mine, until recently. My grandfather had died years ago, and left his property, along with several million dollars, to me. Just a few months ago, my coven and I turned the old industrial building into a sparkling new retreat center.
The building was beautiful—an entire front facade made of reflective glass, a greenhouse off to one side, and a big deck out front which we felt would be perfect for guests who wanted to soak up the bright Colorado sunshine. The words “Greene Center for Magical Living” were written in large white letters above the front doors.
I naively thought that by giving the old building a major makeover, the center would be up and running, ready to host magical retreats for the public. However, that was not the case. Yes, the building was ready, but I was not. Even after construction was complete, I’d been faced with a lot of work to do before the retreat center would be ready to host the public. Namely, preparing a weekend workshop, hiring a guest speaker, and marketing the crap out of the event.
Done, done, and done.
Now, opening weekend had truly arrived.
Thus, the knot in my stomach.
“What if something goes wrong?” I transmitted, as I turned and faced the rising sun. It crested over the snow-dusted treetops in an impressive display of gold and pink. I closed my eyes and absorbed the warmth. Though it was late March and technically spring, the morning air felt distinctly wintery. My thin pajama pants and worn vintage t-shirt were not ideal. I could see my breath.
I rubbed my hands together.
Skili returned to her branch. “Of course something will go wrong,” she said matter-of-factly. “Just do your best.”
I returned to my van and bundled up in a few warm layers, including a thick cable-knit sweater that my friend Annie knitted for me, fleece pants, and my cozy, knee-high moccasins. Then I perched in one of my camp chairs and ate breakfast in silence. Chai tea and a tofu scramble, cooked up with plenty of spices on my little camp stove.
The sky grew brighter. Sun warmed my nose and my toes. Chai tea warmed me up from the core out.
By nine, I was dressed in my usual leggings, tie-dyed hoodie, and vest with a leather shoulder patch for Skili to perch on. My long black hair was in a braid, and I felt ready to face the day—and my destiny, if Skili was to be believed.
I fired up my van, pulled out of the retreat center lot, and turned left up Hillcrest Pass Road.
The first order of business for the day was to admit weekend guests into the Earth Realm and transfer them to the retreat center. In order to get that done, I had to go to the portal gate.
Yeah, our little mountain town of Hillcrest, Colorado, is lucky enough to be the only place in the Earth Realm that has a portal to other realms.
One of the main responsibilities of my coven is to guard the portal gate and ensure that every being that comes through has good intentions. To effectively guard the gate, my witch sisters and I set up a neat little waiting room, so that everyone who wants to pass through is held until we can approve them.
Usually we only see one or two visitors per month. But since it was opening day for the retreat center, I was expecting twenty-five magical beings through the portal gate.
I kept my speed to a crawl as I steered my bright red ‘69 VW van up the winding mountain pass road. Deep potholes and half-buried boulders riddled the road, which made for a bumpy ride. Once in a while, I caught sight of Skili as she flew along beside the van. The sunlight glistened off of her snow white body.
I just have to do my best, I reminded myself as I turned up the reggae music that was already booming through my speakers. I hoped that the music would help me chill out and give me peace, like it usually did, but it wasn’t working. I still felt tense as the portal gate came into view.
It just looked like an old metal gate that formed a barrier across the dirt road, but looks can be deceiving. I knew that beyond the gate, there lay four other magical realms—Water, Air, Spirit, and Fire—and a whole lot of magical beings, including twenty-five who were expecting me to provide them with a magical and educational weekend getaway.
As soon as I parked and stepped out of my van, Skili swooped down out of the air and landed on my shoulder. “Let the fun begin,” she said.
“I don’t know if I would call this fun,” I said, eying the air around the gate, which shimmered with magical activity. “I think fun is sitting out by the campfire, looking up at the stars, and listening to music with a glass of wine in my hand.”
“This is a new kind of fun,” Skili said in a clipped tone.
I knew she didn’t want to argue about it, and neither did I, so I simply responded with, “If you say so, Skili.”
I stepped forward and concentrated on the air around the gate. As I focused, a curtain seemed to part in midair, exposing a pristine white room just beyond it. The room was full of about half a do
zen magical beings. Most were sitting in the white plastic chairs that lined the wall, but one short woman with wings hovered in the air in the far corner of the room. By short, I mean that she was only about two feet long. She must be a fairy, I thought. She was the first fairy I’d ever seen. I had a feeling it was going to be a week of firsts. I smiled and waved in greeting.
Though the retreat center would eventually host magical and non-magical beings alike, for the initial weekend-long gathering, my witch sisters and I had decided to keep it simple and invite magical beings only. It was our hope that it would even the playing field a bit, and help us put on a successful event.
For the next few hours, I played hostess. It was my first time acting as a professional for the retreat center, and it went pretty well. I’d had plenty of experience interacting with others as a massage therapist, which had been my occupation since my early twenties.
“That’s almost everyone,” I transmitted to Skili after settling a nymph, two wizards, and a fairy into their overnight rooms. I peered down at the list in my hand. “Only three more registered guests remain, along with our guest speaker.”
My heart sank as I realized that the guest I was most nervous about had not arrived yet. He was also a visitor that I did not want to keep waiting, so I hustled out the double doors and practically jogged to my van.
“Let’s get moving, Skili,” I transmitted to my feathered friend. “I don’t want Carlisle Crimson to get cranky if he has to spend too much time in that waiting room.”
“We don’t need to hurry for him.” Skili transmitted back.
“Yes, I really do,” I said. I climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled out of the lot. “He’s a writer for the Record Keeper Reviews. Didn’t you say that’s one of the most influential websites in the magical universe? He’s attending this weekend retreat specifically so that he can write a review article about us. If he says the center sucks, that’s going to kill business before we even have a chance to get started.”
“We’ll treat him like an equal,” Skili commanded. I could see her flying along in time with the van.
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