Spell by Midnight (Witch of Mintwood Book 3)

by Addison Creek

  “Whoa,” said Charlie from behind us.

  “Where did all the ghosts go?” whispered Greer.

  “I have no idea,” I said.

  I glanced again at Paws’ usual box, but he still wasn’t there. The light had stopped flashing and my lawn was awash in darkness, which didn’t make me feel any better. I turned to my friends and said, “You two should head for the basement and stay there until I come for you.”

  “Absolutely not! The basement is far scarier than anything that could be out there,” said Charlie, pointing past me.

  “We’re in this together,” said Greer.

  “No we’re not,” I insisted. “I’m the one who’s a witch, and I’m the one who got you two into this trouble.” I didn’t know what it was that told me that whatever was out there had to do with magic, but I knew it in my bones. Greer and Charlie were innocent bystanders. I promised myself that if I got through this, I’d go find my grandmother’s wand at last.

  “You aren’t going to leave?” I said. My friends shook their heads.

  In that case, we needed to defend ourselves. But how? I had no idea.

  “What do you think is out there?” said Charlie.

  “I don’t know, but those flashes can’t be good,” I said.

  “If it was something friendly, they’d come by during the day and say hi, right?” said Greer.

  “I’m going out there to see what it is,” I said grimly. “We have to face it head on.”

  “You aren’t serious,” said Charlie.

  “I’m pretty sure she’s serious, meaning she’s stupid, if what she means to do is to go outside and find out what those flashing lights are,” said Greer.

  “Well if I don’t, whatever is causing those lights will just keep getting closer to the house, and I can’t have that. Besides, I have to find the ghosts,” I said.

  “Don’t you think the ghosts can take care of themselves?” said Charlie.

  “I thought they could, but where are they all?” I muttered, looking around in despair.

  Having the ghosts disappear was very unsettling, mostly because they had never been missing before. I had dreamed of having a quiet, peaceful front lawn, but not at the expense of the ghosts. Besides, if they had been handy, they might have helped me discover what was happening outside.

  I raced to the front door, threw off my slippers, and grabbed my shoes. I didn’t bother with a coat, so the cold slammed into me as I rushed outside. Another blast of flashes lit up the night sky and I nearly fell backwards into Greer.

  Righting myself and making sure Greer was okay, I rushed forward. Footsteps came behind me, and despite my misgivings I was comforted that my friends were there. We made for the trees nearest to where the light was coming from.

  “I think I found the ghosts,” said Charlie, grabbing my arm.

  “Where?” I asked. Charlie’s arm sneaked past me and pointed.

  Sure enough, in front of the trees was a line of brightly colored ghosts. I gasped. From the mice to the birds, from the tea ladies to Mr. Bone, they were all there, standing with their backs to us in an evenly spaced row. I could see bright colors and glitter threading between them, as if they were connected by light.

  “What’s happening?” asked Greer.

  I shook my head. “You’re probably getting tired of me saying this, but I have no idea.”

  Once again I promised myself that if we got through whatever this was, I would find my grandmother’s wand, even if it meant going through all the crazy boxes in the attic and the basement.

  “Should we keep going?” said Charlie.

  “Yes, the ghosts might need help. I can’t just leave them there,” I said. For a second I considered once again asking my friends not to come, but I knew they’d refuse. After all, this was their home too.

  “How are we going to help the ghosts?” asked Greer. To that I had no answer, but I walked forward and my friends followed.

  Except for the flashes of light coming from the woods, we couldn’t see anything past the lights that wove around the ghosts. We were halfway to the trees when something else started to go wrong.

  “Did you feel that?” I asked. We had slowed down a bit, mostly because we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into.

  “Feel what?” said Charlie.

  A tremor skittered beneath our feet, causing all of us to stumble.

  “That,” I said grimly.

  It wasn’t until the third tremor that I realized I should look back at the house.

  The farmhouse, white against the black sky, looked like it was shaking.

  “Who’s trying to knock down my farmhouse?” I cried.

  “Someone who realized it’s almost falling down anyway?” said Charlie. “Let’s get to the ghosts, and fast.”

  We were just about to turn around and start running toward the ghosts when Mrs. Goodkeep appeared. I hadn’t seen her since Paws and the other ghosts had banished her after she tried to keep her great-great-granddaughter from selling a family heirloom.

  “Just where do you think you’re going?” she demanded. She looked even paler and more drawn than I remembered her. She was still holding her broom, but her fingers looked more frail than they used to.

  “Mrs. Goodkeep!” the three of us said together, shocked.

  “Yes, thank you for yelling my own name at me. Otherwise, however would I have known it? You’re just like Paws, only worse, because I can’t shut you outside,” she said sarcastically.

  “What are you doing here?” I said.

  “I’m here to help the other ghosts. In times of crisis, minor transgressions can be forgiven more quickly, so I have been allowed to come home early.”

  The old ghost woman turned toward the trees and hefted her broom as if she planned to club someone with it. I intentionally slowed my pace so I wasn’t keeping up with her and made a mental note to stand further away from her in the future.

  “Bring it on and let’s go,” she cried. Without looking back, she marched forward over the dark grass.

  I exchanged looks with my friends. “What do you think?” I said.

  “I think this is dangerous and stupid,” said Charlie.

  “And so we go forward,” said Greer.

  The three of us started after Mrs. Goodkeep. She was already getting harder to follow, blending in with the other ghosts near the edge of the trees, but we made a beeline for the bright light in the inky night.

  As we got closer to the racket, I could see that Paws and the others were fighting something, but I couldn’t tell what or who it was.

  Charlie saw it too. “The ghosts are in a fight!” she cried, her blond hair flying over her shoulders in the cold wind, which had picked up so much that we were forced to squint into the gusts.

  “No, are we being attacked? We had no idea.” Paws had appeared at our feet.

  “At least you haven’t lost your sarcasm,” I said.

  “I have not,” he replied.

  “Because if you lost it, I could help you look for it.”

  “Haha. See, still got it,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes.

  My attention didn’t stay diverted to the ghost cat for long, because just then I saw dark figures coming toward us, while the ghosts tried to maintain a wall in front of them to stop their forward motion.

  “Turn back,” the cat ordered, his tone brisk and his tail standing tall. “We have this under control, at least for now! You won’t be able to help.”

  “We can’t leave you,” I argued.

  But just as I said it, the wind changed and came at us as if it was actually attacking us. Paws’ eyes went wide. He looked scared.

  The next instant, an indistinct but powerful force rushed over me and surrounded me. Before I lost consciousness I saw the ghost cat trying to stop it, but he didn’t have a chance.

  As a swirling mist cascaded over my head, dizziness overcame me. The warm pinkish mist looked so solid that all I wanted to do was fall into it. Th
e next thing I knew I was crashing to the ground.

  Charlie and Greer turned to me, their face masks of fear. I dimly saw Paws leap up into the air, but after that I knew nothing at all.

  Chapter Seven

  When I opened my eyes, the ground felt cold and wet and uncomfortable. Paws was yelling and carrying on, his tail again flying in directions I didn’t know tails could fly in. In short, he was freaking out.

  Greer, Charlie, and Charger were standing close by, looking very concerned. Charger kept pacing. He would make for the trees and then come back, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

  He looked at me as if he was considering licking my face, but thought better of it. Smart dog.

  I shook my head to try to clear it. I had no idea what had just happened, but I knew that the ghosts had come through to save the day. The dark figures marching across my lawn had been banished back into the night.

  I was relieved. Now the only sound was a mixture of meowing and barking.

  Charger thought he was alone in the racket, but Paws’ noises were worse, and unlike the dog, we could all hear them.

  Mr. Bone stood over me and gave me a kindly smile. “You gave us a fright,” he said. “Glad we could help, but maybe you should learn a little bit about your magic now.” It was exactly like Mr. Bone to speak that way.

  “They might have a point,” said Charlie, rubbing her arms to try and warm them.

  “Let’s get her inside, then we can talk,” said Greer, glancing fearfully at the black woods.

  I wobbled ridiculously when I tried to stand up, so Charlie and Greer each took an arm and helped me toward the house. The lights were on inside again and the wind had died down to something that resembled a gentle summer breeze.

  “It’s almost like nothing out of the ordinary happened at all,” I muttered, still feeling light-headed.

  “Almost,” Charlie agreed, shaking her head.

  We got inside and my friends helped me to the couch, onto which I fell gratefully. That Paws and Mr. Bone followed into the house brought home to me just how serious the situation had been.

  “I’ve got the tea,” said Charlie, darting away.

  As she disappeared, she muttered over her shoulder, “It feels so rude not to offer tea to the ghosts, but they can’t drink it, after all.”

  “Are you gonna tell us what happened or not?” Greer demanded, glaring at Paws.

  The cat was still agitated, hopping around on his four . . . paws . . . as if he was never going to calm down.

  “I’ll tell you what happened. Lemmi decided not to learn about her magic, and this is the result. She hasn’t learned the ropes, and she’s been annoying witches left and right. She became the Witch of Mintwood and they finally got sick of it and came to talk to her about it,” said Paws.

  “Funny, I didn’t really see anybody trying to talk to me,” I said.

  “What happened is that the ghosts defended the farmhouse from a witch attack,” said Paws.

  “I didn’t know a ghost could do that,” I said. “Also, there was a witch attack?”

  “You know very little about witches, and less about ghosts,” the cat sniffed.

  Mr. Bone, who looked very uncomfortable in the house, shifted and said to Paws, “Don’t be so hard on her.”

  Then he turned to me and explained, “What we did was pretty cool. We put a protection on the farmhouse. It should last until midnight a few days from now, and while it’s in place there will not be any more attacks. Hopefully that will buy you some time.”

  “Time for her to find the wand and become a dab hand at spells?” said Greer.

  “Yeah, no big deal,” I muttered. “I’ll get right on it. And suddenly I’ll be a magic pro.”

  “There is no such thing,” said Paws the killjoy.

  “We have faith in you. We know you can do it,” said Mr. Bone, nodding encouragingly.

  “When I get up tomorrow I’m going to look for footprints,” I said, rubbing my temples. I wasn’t going to be awake much longer.

  “There aren’t footprints,” said Paws.

  “Witches don’t leave footprints?” Charlie sounded more interested than concerned.

  “They don’t if they’re good, which these were,” said the cat.

  “In the morning I’m going out to the trees anyway,” I said stubbornly.

  “You tell ‘em,” said Charlie.

  “Why were witches attacking?” Greer asked.

  Glad someone finally asked the important question.

  “Lemmi, you’re the Witch of Mintwood, and that comes with certain responsibilities, none of which you’ve been fulfilling,” said Paws. “When you don’t fulfill those responsibilities, other witches take notice. The first thing they think is that you’re weak.”

  “I’m very busy! I talk to ghosts and solve cases! That’s fulfilling at least one of my responsibilities.” How was I supposed to act as the Witch of Mintwood when no one ever taught me how? “Is there a witch’s handbook?” I went on, venting my frustration. “Why is the witches’ first recourse to attack me? Shouldn’t they come by for a chat and be like, ‘Hey, we can see you’re struggling here, want a hand?’”

  Paws looked at me like I was pure crazy. “That’s not how it works. Witches hate weakness and love territory. Not every witch is so lucky as to have a town to herself. You do, and defending it is part of the job,” he said.

  “What if I’m happy to share?” I said. I wasn’t, I just liked watching Paws explode.

  “I have a headache. It just came on. I call it ‘The Lemmi,’” he said, keeling over sideways.

  “All right, all right, they want me out of the way so they can be the Witch of Mintwood, and there can only be one. I see,” I relented.

  “Right, and you must not let that happen,” Paws warned.

  “Got it. I’ll find the wand tomorrow and learn how to be the best witch ever in twenty-four hours or less,” I said.

  “Now I feel better,” said Paws dryly.

  “Really?” I said.

  “No.”

  “Come on, let’s get some rest,” said Charlie.

  “I think we’ve earned it,” said Greer.

  As I crawled into bed that night I glanced at my window curtains. They were tightly closed, and I didn’t even want to think about what might be on the other side.

  Paws had given me a lot to think about.

  The next day I decided to go into town with Charlie, mostly because I wanted to see if the strange women were around again and hear all the gossip about the silo.

  The shock of the dead body had not died down; it was still the talk of the town everywhere we went.

  Before we left, I went out to the trees as I had promised I would. There was no sign that anything strange had happened the night before. Feeling disgruntled and worried, I headed back into the farmhouse.

  We decided to get our coffee fix at the Daily Brew and were just finishing putting cream into our mugs when a familiar voice caught me off guard.

  “Well, if it isn’t the body discoverers themselves,” said Hansen Gregory.

  Charlie and I turned around slowly and gazed at the very good-looking reporter.

  Hansen wasn’t in his own territory – he was from Caedmon, the next town over – but there he stood, hands casually shoved into his pockets, grinning for all the world as if he belonged in Mintwood just as much as we did.

  Charlie was giving him a look that said, “Return to your side of the town border, mister.”

  But if Hansen was reading her thoughts, he didn’t let on.

  The Caedmon Chronicle reporter had deep blue eyes and dark hair, and he had once asked Charlie out. She hadn’t noticed, which – yes – was my favorite Fun Fact about Charlie.

  “Morning,” I smiled.

  “What brings you to town?” asked Charlie through gritted teeth.

  “Good morning to both of you. I actually came to talk to you. You showed up just as I was discussing how awesome you
both were with Mrs. Barnett. Then I was going to screw up my courage and visit the Gazette offices,” said Hansen.

  “You want to email me and make an appointment?” said Charlie, clearly caught off guard. She tried leaning on the coffee counter, but her elbow slipped and she nearly fell sideways. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mrs. Barnett snort in amusement.

  “I was afraid that if I did that you’d say no,” said Hansen.

  “At which point you should have given up,” said Charlie, fluffing her hair.

  Hansen shook his head. “That’s not really how I do things.”

  “I know some other people like that,” I said, glancing at Charlie and grinning.

  “What did you want to talk to us about?” said Charlie, determined as all get out not to be amused.

  “I would tell you, but come to find out I have to make an appointment to talk to you,” said Hansen. Smiling, he leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “Hopefully talking to you right now doesn’t count.”

  “You don’t have to make an appointment to talk to me,” I said.

  “I just don’t like being surprised on my morning coffee sprint,” said Charlie, her face taking on a bright cherry color. “If you’ll notice, that means I haven’t drunk my morning coffee, and who in their right mind would talk to me before I’ve done that?”

  “You are so right. When can I make an appointment to come and see you?” said Hansen.

  My friend wrinkled her nose. As usual, her nemesis had her off balance, and I could see that Charlie was regretting her choice. But she had gone too far to back down now.

  I watched her wheels turning, and I could tell exactly when she realized another way to throw Hansen off balance.

  “How about lunch today? Right here?” said Charlie.

  “You’re asking me to lunch because you think I won’t come back for lunch so soon,” said Hansen. “I assure you there’s nothing I would rather do. Lunch here today sounds great. I’ll see you at one sharp. Lemmi, I hope you can come as well?”

  “I’d be delighted,” I said. “I’ll let Greer know, too.”

  Hansen’s face brightened even more. “I was hoping she’d be around. Until lunch, then.”