Wands Have More Fun

by Rebecca Regnier

  We made our goodbyes with Faa and his travelers. Then the Coven Quorum headed to the cauldron. It was time to activate our wands.

  The Frog Toe had emptied out; it was very late. But that was okay. We had a spell to cast in the cauldron.

  As usual, we all had elements to bring to this endeavor.

  Fawn had herbs and fauna, Georgianna had shared the needed recipe for the spell, Tatum minded the fire, Candy was channeling the focus, Pauline magnifying all our diverse energies, and I had the words.

  Tatum nodded when the bubbling liquid in the cauldron was just right.

  Elements of earth, be one with our will.

  From root to stem, we honor you.

  Vowing not to wield for harm or ill.

  And to the soul who called you always be true.

  Wands for the witches with magic fill!

  Fawn put sprinkled some leaves from each of the trees we’d used into the cauldron. We lifted our wands in unison, and a gold ribbon of light wound its way from the cauldron to the tips of each of our wands. I was amazed that six similarly sized piece of wood could now look so different, each one matched perfectly to its witch.

  Tatum looked at me again, and I quite literally said the magic word.

  “Excitant!”

  The wands glowed red for a pulse, and the pulse pushed us all back and then forward again.

  The gold ribbon that connected us twisted around each wand and then slipped down to our hands. Though it had come from the magic of the cauldron’s heat, it didn’t burn. The gold ribbon continued to travel. I watched it slide from wand to wrist to each of our chests, and I felt it melt into my heart.

  I had no better way to describe it.

  And then it was done.

  We had our wands. The room returned to normal, the cauldron back to being a really cool feature of The Frog Toe Microbrewery instead of a vessel of ancient magic.

  “I REALLY thought we’d get the eye of newt or cauldron bubble,” Tatum said to me.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, if she was going to use those phrases this would have been the night,” Fawn said and elbowed my ribs.

  “What? Everyone’s a critic. It’s not easy coming up with rhymes all the time.”

  “Really? Fill? Kill? Will. Pill, Spill?” Tatum said, and my assembled witch sisters all laughed.

  “Though, to be honest, if I had to find an eye of newt to add to the cauldron, in this weather it would be a real bear.”

  “Maybe that’s more a warm climate witch thing?” Candy offered.

  “Maybe,” Fawn said.

  “We need to test these,” Georgianne said. And she wasn’t wrong.

  “How?” I really didn’t have the first clue. Did you wave it? Were there words to say like our cauldron spells? Were there commands? It felt like we were far from knowing exactly what to do with the wands.

  “I shall consult the grimoire.”

  We waited.

  “Uh, except…wand creation and wand use, I think that’s two different grimoires,” Georgianne said as she flipped through the pages.

  “So, that will be an experiment for a different day,” Candy decided. We were all a bit bummed that we didn’t innately know what the heck to do. But we had completed a big next step in our witch’s journey regardless. Our wands existed!

  We said our goodbyes. Despite the thrills of the day, I was so tired I could hardly see straight.

  I returned home to a warm bed, pets that were moderately happy to see me, and a magical wand on my nightstand that I knew was supposed to be there.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, the snow had started to fall. I’d thought Your U.P. News had downgraded the storm. That had been good news for all the weekend events. Right now, though, I questioned whether the weatherman was off.

  Today was the final pre-judging, tonight being the Miss (or Mister) Vernal Equinox Gala.

  If the forecast was right, we’d get through it all without an epic weather event. Still, it felt like there was something building up, something ready to hit. I may be a witch who could stop time, but even I wouldn’t hazard a guess at a seven-day forecast, that was real voodoo.

  I knew I had a lot of pageanting to deal with today but decided that, before I left for the day, I should try my wand. I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow; I really wanted to see it in action!

  I also realized it might be a good idea to try it outside, so as not to accidentally blow my new cabinet doors off the hinges. And to do it now, before the wind and or snow decided to dump on Widow’s Bay, seemed prudent.

  I had a sense that my wand was supposed to stop evil or something to that effect. It wasn’t going to turn someone from prince to frog or back again. It wasn’t going to clean the house for me unless I categorized dog hair floating around the baseboards as evil. It also wasn’t going to turn me into the fairest of them all.

  The problem with testing my wand was finding the evil part. I knew where big bad evil lurked, but I wasn’t going to put myself in front of Alvarado if I didn’t know wand basics.

  I needed some teeny tiny evil to vanquish.

  If anyone knew where minuscule, annoying sized evil lived in our immediate vicinity; it was Agnes.

  “I need your help.”

  “Yes, that jacket is too boxy.”

  “What? I like this jacket.” I had donned a short black blazer and a pair of jeans for today’s judging.

  “Unfortunate.”

  “Never mind the fashion for a minute. I need to vanquish a little tiny bit of evil, to test this wand.”

  “Ah, well, your neighbor is a nasty bit of business.”

  I wasn’t the borrow sugar type of neighbor. And without kids, I didn’t really know my neighbors other than to say hi on trash pickup day.

  “Which one?”

  “Right side, he’s got a trap in his yard for stray cats.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “I have been disabling it. And then putting food out.”

  “You’re running a cat rescue operation?”

  “I shoo them out of his yard, give ‘em tips on how to locate less sadistic homeowners.”

  “Agnes, you’re practically Mother Theresa!” I was astonished by Agnes’ display of community activism. “Where’s the trap?”

  “Back yard near his shed. Or you could smash his head with that wand of yours. It would serve him right for trying to do the same to innocent felines.”

  I looked at Agnes and was shocked to learn her cold-hearted judgment was really cover for her alter ego, an avenging kitty angel. I didn’t mention it out of respect. But I also couldn’t help smiling when I thought of Agnes saving neighborhood strays.

  “I think that’s evil enough. I’m going to go mess with it.”

  “Good, and the jacket isn’t that bad. I guess.”

  Wow, charity even for my wardrobe! Agnes must be drunk.

  I crept out to the backyard and looked over to the shed. I had a large lot that backed into a wooded area. My neighbors weren’t right on top of me. I walked to the back of my property and took the wand out of my back pocket.

  There was a fence between our yards, and I wondered about the vow to not do evil with my wand. Was trespassing evil? Was minor property destruction evil?

  I looked closer to find the offending cat trap. I saw it at the back corner of his shed. It was a little box, with a trap door. I didn’t even want to know how he finished his evil job. I just wanted to stop the trap.

  Could I stand here, more than fifty feet away and just zap the trap? I looked around. The fact that witches and Yooper Naturals of all types populated Widow’s Bay was an open secret. Some people embraced it, some denied it, some fought it, and some loved the idea, including tourists who were hoping to get bit, scratched, or otherwise ensorcelled. I had no inkling what flavor my neighbor was. It was still good business to conceal a little of one’s magical abilities, lest you ran into a jerk who hated witches.

  This was a test,
only a test, so I decided to stay on my property. I also looked around to see that no one was obviously watching me.

  I had my wand in the back pocket of my jeans. I got it out and marveled again at how it fit in my hand. My fingers slid over the smooth surface. I liked the look of it. Not too overdone, no glitter in sight, like Pauline’s extravaganza.

  I trained my gaze on the trap. I didn’t know if I needed a word to activate the wand’s powers or what. But a word came to me, so I used it. I summoned my will, and I felt it like a current from my chest to the wand. The wand was one with my will.

  “Profligo,” said I!

  The trap exploded! I was knocked back into my yard by the force of the blast. I felt my tailbone make a conscious decision not to break, thank God. And then I put my hands over my head as slivers of the wooden cat death box rained down on the backyard. I remained covered as they pelted the general vicinity.

  That was a lot. I looked around again, wondering if anyone had seen my handiwork. Was there a Mrs. Kravitz waiting to snitch on me? I didn’t notice any witnesses; I hoped I was right.

  “Oh, okay. Wow,” I said to the wand, as though it could hear me in the same way Agnes could.

  I put it back in my pocket and made a few mental notes. First, I could be at least fifty feet away from evil and make an impact: that was good. Second, for some unknown reason, a Latin word had leaped into my brain. I’m not sure what the Latin word meant. To be honest, I needed to get more familiar with Latin words. Third, the wand was strong. I meant to disable the trap, but instead, I blew it to smithereens.

  That last part worried me a little. How did I control this? If something bad happened, was my only recourse when using the wand total annihilation? Was it a loaded gun?

  That was not a good feeling. I needed wand safety training, and I needed it soon. I decided to leave the wand at home, locked up, for now. The power to destroy isn’t something you should have at your fingertips. Especially with the undeniable fact that tailgaters and people who didn’t use their blinkers made me so mad, I’d like to destroy them in a blast of fire rage.

  Nope, let’s keep that wand at an assured clear distance until I knew what the heck I was doing.

  I hustled inside my house.

  “Stay away from the neighbor’s yard today. There’s going to be drama.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Never mind. Just lay low.” I could almost feel Agnes roll her eyes at me as I dashed out and off to take on my day sans power wand but firmly dressed in my boxy blazer.

  I popped into my office first, to file a report from yesterday’s pageant activities. And report a little update on The Broken Spine and how long before it might be open.

  None of those were blockbuster story ideas. I needed something big, but I didn’t see where that was going to come from unless I did start reporting supernatural news.

  The problem there? I’d be laughed out of the state. Everyone knew about the oddness of Widow’s Bay’s inhabitants, but you didn’t report about it. This wasn’t Coast to Coast Live. Though I did love that radio show.

  If Your U.P. News wanted me to get the scoop on what was happening in Widow’s Bay, having me judge the pageant was not the way to do it.

  And the latest headline from Man Cave Dot Net proved it.

  EXCLUSIVE! New evidence links local murder to robbery

  This reporter has learned that, despite initial reports, robbery may have been the motive for the murder of dance studio owner Florine Laplaisance.

  “We can confirm that several hundred dollars was missing from a cash box on the premises.” That’s according to lead Detective Byron DeLoof of the Widow’s Bay Police department.

  Further, a source, who does not want to be named, but who works close to the Laplaisance case at the county coroner’s office tells this reporter, and ONLY this reporter, that the victim was poisoned. The poison was likely arsenic based on the postmortem examination.

  The family of Laplaisance did not want to comment for this story at this time.

  This reporter can tell you for certain that the murder investigation is heating up and there could be an arrest any day!

  Continue to follow and watch Man Cave and Yooperman for breaking developments. I am your best source for what’s happening in The Bay!

  Son of a pup. I was so completely scooped. I hated the style in which reporters referred to themselves in the story, but there was no question that the facts if they were accurate, wiped the floor with my latest coverage.

  I dialed up Loof.

  “You burned me! You actually burned me. What is this crap with Yooperman?”

  “Good morning, Marzie, yes, I’m doing well.”

  “Blah blah blah. Why didn’t you tell me there was a robbery or a cause of death?”

  “You didn’t call me yesterday afternoon.” I kicked myself. My focus was pulled in a million directions, but I had to remember, if I wanted to eat, doing my job had to take the top spot, or at least top five.

  “So, you give it to that egomaniac Yooperman?” I was operating from a sour grapes attitude at this point. Which was not the best way to get new information or bond with Byron DeLoof; no matter what our history was, he didn’t owe me exclusives or updates. That was my job to dig out, not his to offer up. And I’d stopped digging yesterday.

  “Yeah, we were out at the ice fishing hole, last gasp for that probably for this storm. Anyhoo, he has an icehouse near my buddy’s, and we got to talking. Nothing against you, he just was there, asked.”

  I didn’t ice fish or golf or hunt. And so, I wasn’t going to get the casual good old boy network tip. That was clear. I was stuck at pageant central. I was about ready to fling my coffee mug across the office. I was mad, but I had to get Loof on the record with the latest development.

  “Fine, so, even though it’s all out there, can you confirm that Florine was robbed?”

  “Yes, she had several thousand dollars in her safe. All gone. Her daughter claims it was there, and we had independent confirmation of its existence from others who frequented the dance studio.”

  “They poison her and take the cash. Was the motive financial?”

  “I can’t say until we arrest a suspect. But we’re not ruling that out.”

  “And the arsenic in her coffee? That’s what killed her?”

  “Well, that’s the odd thing. We have her as arsenic poisoning, but it wasn’t in the coffee. We haven’t found the source yet.”

  “Thanks for nothing, by the way.” I continued to pout about being scooped. I absolutely hated it, and I was not taking it well.

  “Marzie, my advice. Get to the pageant.”

  “What? The pageant? I’m trying to keep the public informed about a murder in Widow’s Bay, and you’re telling me to get to the pageant? Loof, I thought we had more respect for each other. I mean, we’ve been through a lot the last few months, and you’re relegating my work to pageant judge and giving exclusives to that upstart Man Cave poser.”

  “I can hear you’re riled up. Just go do your pageant judge thing.” He was as exasperated with me as I was cheesed off at him. We ended the call.

  My phone buzzed almost immediately.

  “Nowak, do I need to come out to Widow’s Bay to show you how to do your job?”

  “I’m on it, Justin, and no.”

  Ugh, this morning was not going well. If I did have my wand, I would have wanted to aim it at Yooperman and his scoop. Best I didn’t, I supposed.

  I typed up the information that Loof had given me. It was a more straight forward account of the latest on the investigation than Yooperman’s. I didn’t crow about exclusives or refer to myself as “this reporter.” It was dry, factual, and second.

  None of that made me feel any better about what had happened.

  I had dropped the ball on this story, and I had no one to blame but myself.

  Chapter 13

  I made my way into the judges’ room for the day’s events. Again, I looked out the wind
ow at the sky. The clouds were heavy, and even though it was before noon, there wasn’t a bit of sun shining in Widow’s Bay. The water in the bay was churning. Both the sky and the water were a dark gray. This matched my mood.

  It was the last day of preliminary judging. To be honest, and for sure, I wouldn’t admit this to Pauline, but I had no idea what to expect. I was preoccupied with work. I also had a cloud of dread about the antics of the Moose Lodge members.

  I was physically in one place, but mentally and emotionally, I was a dervish, touching on a worry and spinning off unpredictably to the next one. It was not the best way to be good at anything.

  I would try to be present in the moment for the judging and then tackle each of the other issues one at a time. Was it a pageant judge foul to be pre-occupied by crimes, vampires, and wand explosions while watching displays of incredible teenage talent?

  Because, thanks to the conversations in the room, the music warmups, and the general chaos, it was clear today we were going to see some talent.

  I was grateful for that. Singing! Dancing! Juggling! Entertainment! That had to be the best alternative to worrying about all the things that currently were making me lose my appetite.

  I arrived at my appointed spot to pretend I was Simon Cowell, except nicer, though with similar tastes in wardrobe. I never met a black t-shirt these days that I didn’t want to marry.

  I ignored Ridge, who seemed rather satisfied with himself. Though maybe that was because I was so unsatisfied at the present moment.

  Sofia Fisher was the first contestant up for showing off her talent. I honestly wish she hadn’t been. But we were told it was a random drawing. It would, however, be hard to forget her performance.

  Sofia could dance. Really dance. It reminded me of something out of a Sia video. She was nimble, graceful, and her dance made me forget all about my morning of failure and losing my temper. Sofia had that “it” quality.