Ruby grinned. “Not to worry. Those kinds of things are just a matter of course when you’re a witch.”
Ruby rolled her luggage and the carrier up the worn stone ramp leading to the front entrance.
“Feels weird being back here again after so long,” Rumpus mused.
“I-it’s not haunted, is it?” Rufus asked.
“Oh, even if there is an apparition, it’s probably harmless.”
“If you say so…”
Ruby unlocked the front door and swung it open. To her surprise, the interior was clean and well-organized, despite being stacked to the gills with…stuff. Trading cards, crates of commemorative ceramic plates, and even a worn Indian motorcycle.
“Well, this place is kind of nice and cozy,” Rufus said.
GEEEEET OUUUUUUT groaned a horrid, otherworldly voice promising pain and a fate worse than death.
“Too bad we can’t stay!”
Two
The haunting voice still reverberated in Ruby’s ears as she looked down to her smaller familiar.
“Rufus, it’s just an apparition. They’re mostly harmless.”
“See, it’s that use of the word ‘mostly’ that’s got me on edge.”
Rufus leaped out of the carriage and raced behind Ruby’s luggage. His yellow eyes peered out from behind the black vinyl case.
“If you’re going to be a familiar to a witch, Rufus, you can’t just cower in fear every time there’s a simple manifestation of an apparition.” Rumpus yawned and licked his paw smugly. “We’ll have it exorcised before lunch. Speaking of lunch, I’m famished.”
“You know the vet said you had to cut back on the Tender Vittles, Rumpus.”
“Ah, but I am wasting away! But skin and bone! Like a wraith, flesh stretched tight as a kite’s wing over my malnourished form.”
“Alright, fine, as soon as we exorcise this apparition.” Ruby set her luggage to rest against the safety rail and slipped the purse strap off her shoulder. She took a moment to run her fingers over the Gucci magenta leather satchel. It cost her more than two month’s rent, but so worth every cent.
Ruby snapped the purse open and rummaged around. “Let’s see…a little bit of quicksilver essence…”
She placed a glass vial on the ground, a silvery fluid sloshing around inside of it.
“Eye of newt…”
“I can’t bear to look!”
“Chillax, Rufus. It’s mustard seed, not actual eyeballs.”
“I think I won’t take my chances on that.”
Ruby gathered her components together and considered sitting cross legged on the sidewalk. Her knees, which were already protesting the change in climate, didn’t much care for that idea.
“Come on,” Ruby said, rolling her luggage onto the light house’s first floor. “I need to sit down to do this right.”
“There’s a place to sit down?” Rumpus moved into the first floor, his nose twitching. “Darn it. No rats.”
“That’s a bad thing?” Ruby glanced at the doorway and found Rufus barely peeking in, shivering like a leaf in the wind. “Rufus, it will be okay. My magic will protect us.”
“I can see fine from here, thank you.”
Ruby sighed, then decided to let the matter rest for the time being. “Alright, have it your way.”
“This place is fit to burst with junk,” Rumpus lamented, walking up to a crate and squinting at the label. “Non-sports related trading cards? Is that even a thing?”
“Believe it or not, there is actually a very nice living area hidden under this stuff. The lighthouse offers more square footage than my five-thousand-dollar-per-month apartment did in the big city.”
“Yes, but did those square footages involve hostile ghosts? I think not.” Rufus scoffed.
“Well, I’m taking care of that, aren’t I?”
“Are you going to exorcise it?”
“That’s a bit extreme. I’m going to try and summon it and see if there’s not some way I can appease it first.”
“Appease it?”
“Sure, most ghosts and apparitions haven’t completely let go of their former lives. You help them finish their unfinished business, and they go ahead and move on to the next plane of existence…some of the time.”
“Some of the time?”
“Well, in some cases, the ghost has an unachievable goal, or a malevolent one. And then there’s the stubborn ones who don’t believe they’re dead, or don’t want to. Those are a pain in the neck.”
“You’re not overwhelming me with confidence,” Rufus said, staring about in a near panic. “There’s nowhere to hide except in the haunted lighthouse. Oh, what a revolting development!”
“You’re an embarrassment to all feline kind, and familiars in general.” Rumpus sighed. “You’re the reason a lot of witches are switching to toad familiars.”
“Rumpus, be nice. You mewled like a kitten the first time I summoned an apparition.”
“He did?” Rufus seemed to take delight in the concept.
“Of course not,” Rumpus huffed. “She’s exaggerating, as usual.”
Ruby chuckled as she dragged a cylindrical padded footstool over to the center of the polished floorboards. She sat on the stool and used a piece of chalk to draw a pentagram. The chalk scraping over the timbers mingled with the gently lapping waves and the calls of gulls. Something akin to nostalgia and long-put-off homesickness roiled in Ruby’s belly.
I guess…in some ways it’s nice to be back in Fiddler Cove.
She stood up, nudging the footstool back with her heel. Rumpus claimed it immediately upon her vacation. He appeared like an ice cream cone, with his fluffy form ballooning off the edge.
Ruby allowed her vision to switch into the eldritch spectrum. Instantly, the room, the lighthouse, the entire world became overlaid with shimmering auras and patterns. A bright, pulsing, jagged line throbbed in the skies above the lighthouse, like frozen lightning.
Ruby tapped into the ley line, so as not to deplete her own reservoir of magical power. She chanted the arcane words of the summoning spell, weaving in a subtext of binding to the pentagram.
Her chanting reached a crescendo, and then she threw a little bit of powdered silver into the air over the pentagram. Where the fine particles hit, they ignited blue lines which sizzled through the air like lit fuses. The lines formed the contours of a translucent human body.
“Look at that silly hat, and that long coat,” Rumpus quipped. “This guy died a loooong time ago.”
“He doesn’t look very happy,” Rufus said, trembling at the doorway.
“No, he does not,” Ruby frowned up at the grimacing apparition. He appeared as a middle-aged man in early American colonial dress. “Ahem. Greetings, oh traveling spirit. You seem to have become trapped in my home—”
“Trapped?” A skeletal, glowing finger thrust down at her as the spirit swelled into a ten-foot monstrosity. “Nay! ‘Tis thou who art trapped. Thou and all witches will burn!”
Rufus yelped. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to convince him to leave peacefully.”
“Or perform his final task, since it would involve suicide.” Ruby sighed. “Alright, Mr. bigoted witch hater. Time to pass on to the next stage of being.”
“Nay, I’ll not be driven away by the devil’s magic. The light of the lord protects me.”
“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” Ruby muttered, not really paying attention. She rummaged through her purse and extracted a small leather-bound diary. “Turn to basic exorcism of an apparition.”
The little tome expanded into a full-sized grimoire, opening itself and flipping to the correct page. It hovered at a convenient reading height. As Ruby stood up, it moved with her, always floating to the appropriate eye level for easy perusal.
Ruby chanted the harsh arcane syllables, words which could never be remembered by a mundane. Any attempt would result in the words sizzling away from their minds like water on a hot grill.
The appariti
on screamed as if in agony. Its light died down, fading into a low glow as it deformed into a pitiful puddled mockery of its former glory.
“Goodbye,” Ruby said, and snapped her fingers.
The apparition screamed, its hands pressing against the tubular cylinder of light trapping it in the pentagram. Ruby gaped in astonishment as it seemed to break free. Light brighter than a thousand suns surged through the room, penetrating the ceiling and striking the lens at the top of the lighthouse.
“We got flash banged after all,” Rufus said. “Such is life.”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?” Rufus asked.
“No, it was not.” Ruby frowned as she looked about. “I don’t feel its presence anymore, though.”
“Then the banishment was successful?”
“I don’t know,” Ruby said, shaking her head. “I do know that it’s gone, for the time being, at least.”
“The time being?” Rufus paused, one foot still dangling over the lighthouse floor.
Ruby smiled, then walked over to him and picked up the shaking cat. “It’s alright, Rufus. I won’t let him hurt you.”
“He acts like a pansy, and then you baby him. You’re the reason he’s like this.”
“Hush, Rumpus, or no catnip treats.”
Ruby looked around at the great stacks of goods hoarded by her uncle and blew out a long sigh.
“Well, this is home now, at least for a while. Let’s get to work.”
Three
Ruby sat down on the footstool with a groan. Her hand rubbed the small of her back. She looked about the first floor of the lighthouse, feeling tired and achy but satisfied. With the hoarded loot moved out of the way, the living space could truly shine. In the case of the burnished-brass railing for the staircase curving about the concave stone walls, that proved to be literal.
Nestled up beside the downward arc of the steps sat a plump, comfortable chair. Ruby stared at the chair, trying to decide which marks of wear were new, and which she’d grown accustomed to as a child.
How many times did I sit on this very footstool, prostrate to the higher mind of my Uncle? Hundreds? Thousands? A grin came to her face when she remembered Uncle Ruckus teaching her a smutty sea shanty or two. Mostly, it was just fish stories. No one ever sailed a higher sea, hauled a bigger catch, or fought a more persistent fight than Ruckus…at least as he told the stories.
“You can sit there, you know. It’s your house now.”
Ruby glanced over at Rumpus and smiled sadly. “It doesn’t feel like my house. Doesn’t feel like my hometown, either. It feels like I’ve been away for so long I’ve become a stranger. But, at least a stranger would have a blank slate. I have to deal with…baggage.”
Rufus came and nuzzled her leg. He’d finally decided to calm down after the third hour without an apparition sighting. “You’re talking about your ex-fiancé, right? Roger?”
Ruby scowled even as she ran her hand over Rufus’ sleek fur. “Roger Moore Abernathy. Let me tell you about that guy.”
She cast a minor glamour, requiring the barest energy, and an image of a tall, athletic, good-looking specimen of blonde manhood appeared in vaguely translucent form.
“A ghost!” Rufus dove under the stuffed chair, visible only as a pair of frightened yellow eyes.
“It’s not a ghost, she’s using an illusion spell to show us what he looked like. Try to keep up.” Rumpus harrumphed and settled his bulk more fully onto the table.
The Roger Abernathy effigy smiled, his face growing more dazzling if that were possible. A quick montage of Roger playing sports and being the big man on campus flashed through the illusion glamour, all ghostly translucent like Roger himself.
“He was the quarterback of the football team—All American, of course—captain of the High School Yacht Club, a Chess Junior Grand Master—to put it simply, the guy was like every girl’s dream.”
“This guy sounds too good to be true,” Rufus said, peeking out from under the chair.
“Oh, I assure you he is, Rufus,” Ruby chuckled. “Anyway, out of the blue he asked me to our Junior Prom. Then we—”
“Hold up,” Rumpus said, leaping through the illusion and jabbing his paw in accusation at Ruby. “Don’t gloss over this part!”
“I’m not glossing over anything,” Ruby snapped back.
“Yes, you are. Show him, Ruby. Show him why a total alpha male like Roger Moore Abernathy asking you out was nothing short of an event that should only have happened in a parallel universe.”
“What’s he talking about, Ruby?” Rufus looked up at her with such warm, judgment-free eyes, she could only sigh and explain.
“My life as one of the premiere members of New York’s social elite, mundane and magical alike, notwithstanding, Rufus, I wasn’t exactly the most popular girl at my high school.”
“Show him, Ruby.” Rumpus came to nuzzle her leg. “It’ll help you sort things out.”
“Thanks, Rumpus. I didn’t know you cared—”
“Plus it’s going to be funny as all heck.”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m getting a preview of what the next week is going to look like. A lot of girls go through an awkward phase, Rumpus. You don’t have to bring it up every time.”
“Yeah, I don’t have to…besides, sooner or later you’ll learn to laugh with me, instead of me laughing at you. When you master that, you will be truly wise.”
“How about you shut your whiskered mouth and I cast the illusion magic?” Ruby growled.
“Alright, deal, but make it authentic.”
Ruby sighed, then cast the spell, summoning up an image of herself from her Junior year of high school. A girl sat in a swing set, alone, dark hair shrouding her features. Behind her, children played on the schoolyard, laughing and screaming with delight.
“I never knew my parents. They died before I was born. In a town with as many blue-blood pedigrees as Fiddler Cove, being the weird girl raised by her aunt and uncle was like social poison. Nobody wanted to be with me, so I just…just…”
“She just daydreamed about things being better,” Rumpus interjected. “Speed it up to the part where I come in.”
“Fine. So, on my fourteenth birthday, I came into my witch’s Talent, like normal. My aunt was very happy, proud even. I would be carrying on the family tradition. But the fact was, being a witch just put another barrier between me and the rest of the kids.”
“This is where I come in,” Rumpus said, taking partial control of the magic. He appeared in the illusion, but not the plump, fluffy, specimen he presented in the present. Rather, Rumpus appeared rippled with muscle like a tiger. The illusory Rumpus used his paws to stretch Ruby’s face into a smile.”
“See? Once I showed up everything was great. The end.”
“Not quite, but Rumpus certainly helped. He’s the one who convinced me to go to Prom with Roger in the first place.”
“Can you believe she thought he was trying to make fun of her?”
Rufus looked between Rumpus and Ruby. “Is this where the scene from Carrie comes in?”
“You’ve never even seen that movie, Rufus,” Ruby cocked an eyebrow.
“No, but you’ve talked about it often enough, and Rumpus showed me a clip on YouTube.”
Ruby glared at Rumpus. “I thought my data was getting eaten up awfully fast. How many times have I told you to log into Wi-Fi before you stream?”
“Um, anyway, so Roger asked her out and she said yes.”
Ruby knew what Rumpus was up to, but she wanted to get the painful story over with.
“Right,” she said, swishing her fingers in the air and starting the illusion up again. “So, once I was Roger’s girlfriend, everyone wanted to be my friend. I started hanging with Karen McGraw and the Heathers—”
“That’s another reference I get but don’t understand,” Rufus said.
“—and they taught me, well…”
“How to dress like a skank?”
Rumpus
took over the illusion, replacing Ruby’s image. Her effigy now wore tight denim pants, hugging her curves suggestively, a halter which displayed equal amounts of cleavage and toned belly, and, for some reason, a do rag on her three-hundred-dollar haircut.
“That was the fashion of the time. I will not be shamed for being a fashionista.”
“I think you look cute, Ruby.”
“Thanks Rufus. That’s very sweet of you.”
“Suck up.”
“Rumpus, behave.” Ruby dismissed the scantily-clad, youthful version of herself. “Looking back on it, I should have known the kind of guy Roger was. The clues were there the whole time. Cheating, forgetting to pick me up, borrowing my car and then forgetting where he parked it, forgetting…you know, he may have had a concussion when we were dating.”
“Concussion or not, there’s no excusing what he did on your wedding day.”
Ruby looked to Rumpus and nodded. “Thank you. I needed that validation today. Here’s what really sucks about the whole Roger leaving me at the altar thing, Rufus. The reason why I have such a hard time talking about it. I’ll show you.”
The illusion stirred to life once again. Ruby poured more energy into the magic, making the translucent figures seem more solid and less like phantoms. Ruby appeared in her Versace wedding gown, the train nearly eight feet long.
“You were beautiful,” Rufus said.
“Thank you, sweetie.” Ruby rubbed his head and he purred contentedly. “Unfortunately, here’s where it all went downhill.”
When the preacher asked Ruby if she wished to be wed, she answered with an anxious, happy yes. When it came to Roger’s turn, he suddenly stepped away.
“And here’s where he somehow made my wedding day all about him,” Ruby scoffed.
“I can’t do this,” illusion-Roger said, looking about the room as gasps of shock rang out. “I’m sorry, everyone. I know you all dropped everything you were doing in your busy lives and came out for this…for what was supposed to be a special event. But there’s not going to be a wedding today.”
You've Got To Be Kitten: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Cozy Mystery Page 2
