Magical Midway Paranormal Cozy Series Books 1-3

by Leanne Leeds

  “It’s a hard question, my girl. Perhaps you will be the ringmaster that figures it out.”

  I shook my head. “Right now I can’t even figure out how to solve your murder. Heck, I can’t even talk to the weredeer. I scared them off. The whole herd is hiding somewhere.”

  “Anya actually went and talked to them for you,” Uncle Phil told me. “That girl may seem tough as nails, but she and Avalon are close friends. She was able to explain what was going on, so they are all back at their posts. Crisis averted.”

  “Anya and Avalon. Close friends. Combat boots Anya and meek, skittish Avalon are friends?”

  “They are, quite close,” Uncle Phil said. “Things are not always as they appear, and people are not all that they seem. Especially here. In any case, Anya has interceded for you, though you will still need to stop by at some point and formalize your protection for Avalon.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad. I felt bad. I didn’t mean to scare her.”

  “Charlotte, I promise you that it does get better. I know it feels like I haven’t helped you very much with this, but there is a reason for that. Samson will be there for you to make sure that you don’t do anything too terrible, but I want you to decide for yourself what type of ringmaster you will be,” Uncle Phil admitted. “I don’t want to unduly influence you, or force you into the mold I followed.”

  “Did Grandpa let you find your own way?”

  “Oh goodness, no,” Uncle Phil laughed. He cast his eyes around the room as if expecting to see his father manifest next to his chair. “My father was a strict man. He believed that sternness was necessary for the safety of the Magical Midway. I don’t know that he was wrong, at least in his time.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” I leaned back in the chair.

  “It’s only in the past ten years or so, Charlotte, that I truly came into my own as the ringmaster. I wasted many years trying to be my father, trying to do it the way I believed he would want me to. Dad stayed to train me full-time for three years, and it took me ten more to realize I didn’t always have to do it exactly the way he wanted me to.”

  “Wow. Do you wish that he hadn’t stayed?”

  “Trying to get rid of me so fast, dear girl?” My uncle looked shocked and hurt and the suggestion, but then he winked. I rolled my eyes. Even in death, Uncle Phil had to be a comedian. After a few moments, my uncle’s expression turned serious.

  “I wish he hadn’t tried to make me into him,” Uncle Phil said at the end of a long pause. “I wish he had worked with me to find the best way for me. I am trying to make sure that in guiding you, we find the best way for you.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Phil. I would give you a hug, but I’m afraid with the way my day has been going I would just fall through you and break my nose.” We both laughed, and he blew me a kiss the way he used to do when I was a small child.

  “Call your mother. You need some dinner. With no henbane—which is, incidentally, what’s in that tumbler of yours. I’ve worked with it enough to recognize the grains.”

  I nodded and got up reluctantly. I wasn’t looking forward to using the calling cauldron, though my mother’s promised dinner and pie was making my mouth water. When I handed her the black tumbler back and asked for another, she would lose it. One more hysterical, emotional person was the last thing I needed.

  Not enough to avoid the call, not eat, and give up the pie, mind you. But still. Not looking forward to it.

  A Costco apple pie.

  Besides the traditional dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, broccoli and a roll, my mother shoved an entire Costco apple pie through the mist as a treat.

  An entire lattice-covered Costco apple pie.

  Before I had gotten the pie, however, my mother had extracted every last bit of information out of me regarding the situation at the Magical Midway. She had a typical Mom meltdown, but eventually, I repeated enough assurances and promises that everyone and everything would be all right.

  At least enough she would hand over the darn pie.

  Okay, I may have fibbed a little.

  There are few things in the human world better than Costco baked goods. Well, there probably are, but I didn’t get out much. We shopped at Costco a whole lot thanks to the animals at the shelter needing an awful lot of stuff in bulk, and Costco’s pizza slice was always a treat.

  But nothing beat a Costco apple pie.

  “This is fantastic pie,” Fiona mumbled as the crust dribbled from her lips and bounced off her shirt. The pies are enormous, so I invited Fiona and Fortuna to share in the bounty. I couldn’t let any of it sit around waiting for the poisoner. “I think I love your Mom, Charlotte.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Fortuna said as she shoveled an extra large portion of the extra large piece of the extra large pie. “I haven’t had one of these in many years, and yet it doesn’t seem to have changed.”

  “I love sundown around here,” I sighed and gazed out of the screened window at the beautiful orange-red sky. The sun was seconds away from slipping below the horizon, and bright stars were winning their fight to shine. “Everything feels so peaceful, even though it isn’t.

  “As soon as the dark comes, things will be decidedly less peace and quiet, ay?” Fiona said as Fortuna laughed and nodded.

  “Oh no. No. What’s going on? What’s wrong now?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, your highness,” Fiona laughed. “The Midway will be celebrating your arrival tonight—it’s not every day that we get a new ringmaster. Did your uncle not tell you about the party?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Perhaps he wanted to surprise you,” Fortuna said as she shifted in her chair and placed her empty plate on the coffee table in the seating area. “A ringmaster change typically only happens once a generation. A new one coming heralds a future for the Magical Midway, and so people wish to celebrate that. It’s an old, old tradition.”

  “Is there some magical ritual or something I need to know about?”

  “No, this is all informal. The leaders of each clan or group will come and introduce themselves. I have to ask, Charlotte—what did you think all that activity was under the Big Top?”

  “Well, we are a circus. I figured we were going to open at some point to people and everyone was getting ready.”

  Nothing will open to humans for three days after you take over, Samson said. We couldn’t open it if we wanted to. Humans cannot cross the barrier until the full moon.

  You guys really never thought of writing all this down?

  No need. I’m aware of it all.

  Except the freezing to death thing.

  Now I’m aware of it.

  Anything else I need to be aware of? I asked him.

  Roland Makepeace is likely to make an appearance at the party to greet you. Beyond that, this is just a party in the middle of a murder investigation and potential assassination attempt. Nothing to worry about. Just don’t eat or drink anything.

  “At a party? Come on,” I said as I got up to gather the plates. “Aren’t we reasonably sure Dergal is behind this? Is this all still necessary? Honestly, I grabbed dinner from my Mom mostly because of the promise of pie.”

  Reasonably sure is not entirely sure, Samson pointed out. Ningul is trying to sober up the wayward stallion, but we have no guarantee he’s not a murderer without the alcohol. He may not confess.

  “Great,” I mumbled. “A party where I can’t eat or drink. Sounds awesome.” I placed the stacked plates on the cauldron and turned back to Fiona and Fortuna. Both of whom were staring at me with looks of total perplexity on their faces.

  “The cat,” I said and waived in Samson’s direction. Fiona raised an eyebrow.

  “I thought I could hear the cat?”

  “I made a mistake,” I told her as our eyes met, hoping she would not pry any further into my screw up. Fiona’s head tilted to the side, and she opened her mouth as if to say something. After a glance at Samson, she snapped her mouth shut and smiled.

&nbs
p; “All fixed, I’m sure,” Fiona smiled and took another bite out of her pie.

  Anya burst into the tent heaving in immense gasps. Clutching my arm, she panted. “My sister is gone! I left for just an hour to talk to Avalon, and when I came back she was gone!”

  Fiona and Fortuna jumped from their seats and helped Anya to a chair so she could catch her breath. “Go get Ningul,” I said to Fiona. “Find out if he still has Dergal or if Dergal’s missing, too.” She nodded and quickly left the yurt.

  “She swore that she would stay in the room,” Anya snarled. “She’s so mercurial sometimes, though. I don’t know what goes through her head! Even though that stupid glue factory candidate hurt her, she just keeps going back to him!”

  I winced at the glue factory comment and was grateful that Fiona had left the immediate area.

  “We’ll find her, Anya. The grounds aren’t really that big,” I told the bristle-headed siren. “Why do you think Alessandra went back to Dergal?”

  The fiery woman slapped the arms on the chair and thrust herself back with a thwack. “She thinks she loves that complete jerk. I wish she would just do the water test on him and be done with it already.”

  “The water test?” I stared from from Fortuna to Anya. “What’s the water test?”

  “We are water nymphs,” Anya said, leaning forward. “We can bring men near water and call to them with our song. If they are pure of heart and do not have a stain on their soul, they will simply come to us as if in a dream. If they mean us harm or are of evil character, they will drown themselves in the water.”

  “Oh dear. Those are the only two possible outcomes of the song?”

  “Once heard, yes,” Anya nodded. “So, you generally want to be really sure they’re good. Or, you know, really sure they’re bad. Depending on what you want the outcome to be. Either way, though, it is their choice and their responsibility, really. They don’t have to be unicorn dung.”

  Can I magically keep this from happening? I asked Samson.

  No, Samson responded. Your magic cannot change the magical nature of any paranormal creature or limit the magic inherent in their species. That would violate their paranormal rights to be who they are.

  I thought you said I was practically omnipotent?

  Practically omnipotent, Samson replied. Practically would be the critical word in that statement. Your only choice would be to banish Dergal or Alessandra, or both. That would not stop it from happening, it would just prevent it from happening here. It would also upset the centaurs and the naiads.

  My Uncle Phil wasn’t kidding when he said this was like being the mayor of crazy town. With each power I uncovered, a limitation or consideration popped up to go with it that seemed to directly prevent my ability to avert a potential catastrophe.

  Even though my feet were firmly on the ground, I felt like I was walking a tightrope.

  10

  As Fiona returned with a concerned looking Ningul just moments later, Anya exploded out of her chair toward the handsome centaur leader. “Your horse-man has done enough damage to my sister! Where is he? What has he done with her?” Anger flashed across his chiseled face as the siren flew at him.

  “I have placed Dergal in our containment residence until he sobers up. He has done nothing to your sister, Anya,” Ningul told her calmly as she hovered angrily just inches from his face. “I just left him sleeping off his sober up coffee from Hildegard’s. If you cannot find your sister, it is not young Dergal’s doing. Now step off, nymph.” Dergal stared at the furious young woman, but she did not back up.

  “Folks, how about everyone take a deep breath and calm down?” I said as I slipped my hands between them and palmed their torsos to push them apart. What the hell do the Larry brothers even do here, Samson? This is the third time I could have used security, and they’re nowhere around when I need them.

  They’re patrolling. There’s only five of them. They can’t be everywhere all at once. Besides, you can’t be physically hurt, so what do you care? Get in there, Rocky.

  Right, unless someone throws an ice cube at me. How do you know about the movie Rocky?

  I know much more than you think I do, Samson thought haughtily.

  And yet not as much as I wish you did, I shot back.

  Touché, Samson reluctantly admitted.

  “Look, I understand that everyone is worried. Ningul, you are worried about Dergal—”

  “I am not worried about that pile of elephant manure. I can’t stand that young man. I’m worried about what that glorified donkey will do next that will bring shame down on my herd.” I stared at the centaur leader in surprise. “What? Just because I have to lead the centaurs doesn’t mean I have to like all of them.”

  “Let’s start with the premise that I’m not gonna slaughter all of the centaurs if Dergal is a jerk that hits girls and poisons ringmasters,” I told Ningul matter-of-factly. “If we start with that premise and I promise not to hold you responsible for his actions just because you’re the leader, can you tell me honestly about Dergal? How long has he been here? Why do you dislike him? Do you think that he tried to kill my Uncle Phil?”

  “Dergal arrived about four years ago,” Ningul began as he carefully stepped away from Anya and moved to take a seat on a rattan chair. “I was not that impressed with the young stallion from the get-go, but he had no history in the centaur world that would indicate I had a particular reason to refuse him.”

  “Did you ever ask his old herd if he hit women?” Anya snarled. I placed a hand gently on the angry naiad’s shoulder. She whirled on me ready to fight and then slumped back toward the centaur. “I am sorry. You didn’t hit my sister, and I have known you some years, Ningul. Had you known, I am sure you would’ve stepped in to stop what was happening to her.”

  “I have stepped in, Anya,” Ningul said as he turned to her. “I have had to step in with Dergal and various women over and over again. Women that he lied to, women that he cheated on, women that wanted to carve him up into horse-meat roasts for the way he treated them. I never thought, though, that he would raise a hand to anyone. I believe the drink brought the worst out in him. I wish I had realized sooner.”

  “Ningul, you are a new leader,” Fiona told him gently as she knelt beside him and placed a hand on his. “It takes many years of practice and many failures to make a good leader. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  Ningul and Fiona gazed into each other’s eyes. If her gaze filled with any more affection and admiration, it would spill out of her and melt her darn clothes off. I groaned to myself as I recognized yet another complication rearing its head and whinnying.

  “Hey, folks, I appreciate the support, but I’d like to be able to eat food at the Midway at some point,” I broke into their mutual admiration society rudely. “Again, do we think that Dergal could have poisoned Uncle Phil?”

  “As much as I dislike him, I cannot see what reason he would have to poison your uncle, or you, Charlotte,” Ningul said as he tore his eyes away from Fiona still kneeling beside him. “The boy is stupid, reckless, and sometimes quite mean, but murder? I don’t think I can see it.”

  “Anyone that would hit a woman or grab her and drag her hard enough to leave bruises is capable of anything. Violence is violence,” Anya disagreed.

  “Poison is not aggression,” Fiona pointed out. “Poison is conniving and sneaky.”

  “Cheating on a woman and lying to her isn’t conniving or sneaky?” Anya exploded. “I can’t think of anything more conniving or sneaky!”

  “But Dergal is clearly getting something that he wants out of that,” Fiona countered. “The fact that he dates multiple women and pretends that he’s not to the women is because he wants multiple women. What would he get out of killing the ringmaster? If both ringmasters die, what happens to the Magical Midway?”

  At the moment, you would likely pass on the Midway to your father, Samson interjected in my mind.

  “Okay, if I died, I would pick my father, but what if he
was murdered? What then?” I hated even asking the question out loud.

  There would be no one left, Samson said. The Magical Midway would cease to be. Without a bloodline to carry on the magic, the Magical Midway would be no more, Samson said.

  “Is there any reason that Dergal would want the Magical Midway to disappear?” I asked the group. Silence descended as the suggestion shocked all assembled. They each examined one another as if they were searching for an answer in the face of someone else. “So, who benefits if the Midway disappears?”

  “The Makepeace Circus,” Fiona chimed in. “They could take some of the acts from the Magical Midway that they’ve been wanting. Roland Makepeace would also be the only bloodline power left.”

  “The Witches’ Council,” Anya added. “Everyone knows the Witches’ Council wishes that all of the circuses and fairs would just disappear off the face of the earth.”

  “All of this has always been true, though,” I pointed out to the group. “None of these reasons are new. Different circuses wanted better acts than they had, the Witches’ Council can’t stand any of us… I mean, all those things have been true for generations. So, why now?”

  Everyone grew quiet and thought intently about what may have changed in the paranormal world that would make the destruction of the Magical Midway imperative to someone. No one could come up with anything.

  “Does your uncle have any ideas?” Fiona asked.

  “I haven’t seen him for a while.” I scanned the corners of the communications tent in case I had missed his bright rainbow colored sparkle. Nope. He definitely wasn’t around. Do you know where Uncle Phil is?

  He has been spending time in Jeannie’s Snack Shop, Samson admitted. She is so upset about what happened to him. Your uncle feels very guilty about leaving her.

  “He’s busy at the moment,” I told them. “I’ll ask him when I see him again.”

  “I feel like we're missing something,” Fiona said.

  “We are, we are missing Alessandra!” Anya told her as she stomped on the ground.