Looking for Mr. Good Witch (23 page)

Death is but a doorway to another path.

Brian's funeral was a solemn affair. None of us had expected to be invited. We were surprised when Cassandra came to tell us that the Fuller family wanted us to attend. We were reticent at first—maybe they wanted to exact revenge while we were there. But I knew they wouldn't attempt it in public, and Dorothy needed this closure. We all did.

We dressed in our finest, knowing how many upper-crust witches and members of the council would be present. None of us had ever attended an event of this kind. We were more the celebrations-in-the-park-and-backyard-type witches.

I still wondered, when the large black limousine came for me, why the family had invited us. They'd been very clear about their feelings toward us. Even though I wanted to attend, I had my doubts as to what sort of reception we'd receive.

“I think your ride is here.” Joe was looking out the kitchen window. “This Brian who died was well-to-do, huh? He didn't really seem that way when I met him.”

“He was a very nice young man.” I pulled on elbow-length
black gloves and made sure my silk scarf was perfect across my head and around my neck. “I still can't believe he's gone. I feel so responsible. I wish I could've done more.”

Joe hugged me, mindful of my makeup and black crepe gown. “You know I always feel the same way. What do you say to me?”

I smiled. “You did your best. Sometimes bad things happen.”

“That's right.” He glanced out the window again. “Don't blame yourself. You didn't kill him. I'll see you later.”

We'd talked about the
club
aspect of Brian's death. Joe was still following up on the other two murders. He had refused to give up on finding the sea witch—she had a human identity he thought he could track. He wasn't happy about not being able to log Brian's death in the case, but he understood that some things were impossible for him.

Elsie and Dorothy were already in the car. The driver got out and opened the back door for me. The windows were so dark that there were small lights illuminating the interior of the limo.

Dorothy's eyes were red and puffy. She'd brought a box of tissues with her. Her simple black dress was made elegant with one of Olivia's beaded scarves and her diamond earrings.

“I've been trying to convince her that we could do that spell that makes the magic handkerchiefs,” Elsie said. “No witch worth her magic goes to a funeral carrying tissues. It looks bad. I could give her my handkerchief, but that sounds nasty.”

Elsie was dressed in a long dark purple silk gown that was covered by her full-length purple cloak. Her red-gray curls were up on her head and held back by a rhinestone tiara. She wore too much blush and her very red lipstick was smeared as she'd attempted to find her lips, but she looked like a queen.

“I'll be fine.” Dorothy blew her nose. “I wish Mom could have come too. It's just stupid how witches feel about ghosts. It's prejudiced. If this was the real world, it would be illegal.”

I put my hand on hers. “I know. I wish she were here too. But Elsie's right about the tissues. We can make a nice handkerchief for you from one of them.”

The three of us held one of the tissues. Elsie was proud that she could remember the spell, since it was one she used every day. She spoke the words and the tissue began to change. When it was finished, the tissue was a lacy, red handkerchief.

“Red?” Dorothy asked.

Elsie brows knit together. “I'm sorry. I thought it would be white. Maybe we should try it again.”

“I think we should leave it the way it is,” I said. “We got lucky. Let's not push it. At least it's not an octopus or something.”

We were only in the limo for about ten minutes when it slowed to a smooth stop and someone opened the back door. “Ladies.” A young man in a black livery and white gloves inclined his head as we stepped out.

“Where are we?” Dorothy asked in a scared voice. “I don't think I've ever been here. I didn't know Wilmington had a castle.”

“We're not in Wilmington anymore, Dorothy.” Elsie chuckled. “It makes me wish I had a small dog in a basket. Very
Wizard of Oz
, right?”

“Really?” Dorothy frowned. “Like I didn't get that my whole life.”

“Sorry.” Elsie put her hand on her tiara and looked up at the castle. “Wow. I guess this is where the Fullers live? Where do you think we are, Molly?”

“I have no idea. Let's not stand here and gawk. We should go inside. Dorothy—no temper tantrums. Elsie—no magic or snarky remarks.”

“What about you?” Elsie said. “What are
your
restrictions?”

“I'll try to think of some.” I started up the steps toward the castle door.

The place was immense. I could see at least five floors with
several turrets on top. All of the turrets flew black flags. Hundreds of windows on the front face were made of colorful stained glass that sparkled in the light. The stonework was ancient, white and gray, with the letter
F
worked into the pattern.

Music poured out through the open doors. Hundreds of witches were ascending the steps with us. Servants wearing the same black livery as the man who'd opened our car door were standing at the top of the stairs.

“Very posh,” Elsie whispered. “Glad I wore my tiara instead of my plaid beret as I first had a mind to do.”

“
Shh,
” I said. “Let's be very careful what we say here. The place is probably crawling with council members and their people.”

“I think I see a lemur in that bush over there,” Dorothy added. “We might be in Madagascar.”

“Welcome.” Abdon Fuller was standing immediately inside the door welcoming visitors as they entered. Schadt and Yuriza were beside him. All three looked elegant and stately. Yuriza was the only one who was red-eyed and haggard. It was easy to see that she was deeply mourning the loss of her son.

Abdon faltered when he saw us, but he quickly took hold of whatever he might have said to us and welcomed us as he had the witches before us. “Welcome, sisters.”

Elsie impulsively grabbed his hand. “We are
so
sorry for the loss of your grandson, sir. He was a wonderful boy who didn't deserve to end that way.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, but his authoritative voice was still gruff.

Yuriza and Schadt said the same words. I caught Yuriza's eyes on me when she nodded her head. I wanted to say something, but was too aware of our cultural differences. Elsie was always the spontaneous one.

Dorothy started crying again. She reached for the red handkerchief and accidentally dropped a small glass vial from her sequined evening bag. The glass shattered on the
stone floor, drawing everyone's attention. If they had stared a little longer, they would have seen Olivia's ghostly form fly out of the vial.

I hurried Dorothy into an alcove. “What were you
thinking
? You brought Olivia with you?”

“You don't have to make it sound like I'm the plague or something,” Olivia whispered. “I knew Brian before any of you. I should be here.”

“Mom and I were experimenting with a spell last night. It seemed to work,” Dorothy said.

“Until you broke the vial,” I reminded her. “Now here she is. We know how everyone is going to react.”

“I can do another quick confinement spell,” Dorothy offered. “I don't have anything to put her in, since the vial broke, but—”

“I have a plastic sandwich bag with peanuts in it,” Elsie offered. “You know how these affairs can be. I was worried I might get hungry.”

Cassandra was coming our way. There wasn't time for a spell—and it would be worse than embarrassing if it didn't work.

“Hide behind the drape,” I told Olivia. “Stay out of sight for now.”

“But Molly—”

“Please, Olivia. We'll figure out some way for you to pay your respects to Brian before we leave. But not now.”

Olivia was sulky about it, but she managed to conceal herself behind the massive burgundy drape. I hoped no one around us would notice. If I'd known this was going to be an issue, I wouldn't have come.

“Molly. Elsie. Dorothy.” Cassandra had inclined her regal head after each name. “I'm so glad you could be here. It wasn't easy to convince Abdon and the rest of Brian's family that you belonged here for his memorial, but I believed it was the right thing, since you fought so hard to keep him
alive. And I
am
the herald. That makes me the liaison between the council and other witches.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I wish no one had to be here today. I hate that Brian is gone.”

“So do I.” She sighed. “We had such hopes for the boy.”

“I want to see him,” Dorothy said. “Where is he?”

“It would be better manners to mingle with the other witches before you view him,” Cassandra counseled, as though she also determined protocol for the council.

“We can do that,” Elsie said. “We'll be fine, Cassandra, if you want to mingle with some other witches too.”

“First let me introduce you to the rest of the Grand Council of Witches. I don't think you've ever met them.”

She was right on that score. We weren't the kind of witches who went to soirees or consulted on long-term plans for the witches of the world. We were housewives, mothers, schoolteachers and other ordinary people who happened to be blessed with magic. If anything, we were careful to avoid attracting the council's attention.

But what could we say?

Cassandra led the way through the crowd. I looked up at the high ceiling, where several large crystal chandeliers hung, illuminating the event. There were velvet couches of various sizes and colors scattered throughout the ballroom and long tables filled with any kind of food one could imagine.

“I guess I really didn't have to bring the peanuts,” Elsie muttered. “Do you think a plastic bag with a zip top can hold a ghost?”

I shook my head. We were walking between richly garbed witches with elaborate headdresses. Most were dressed in black or shades of dark purple and blue. It was more like I'd imagined a royal ball to be than a memorial, although large banners with Brian's face on them floated throughout the room.

“I think I'm underdressed,” Dorothy muttered, taking my hand. Hers was freezing.

I squeezed her fingers. “Most of them only wish they had your youth and beauty. You can't dress up and create
that
.”

She smiled tearfully and looked at the banners. “I'm not sure I can see Brian. I mean, I want to see him, but I'm not sure if I can handle it.”

“You don't have to decide yet. But if you don't want to see him, we won't go over there.”

“Thanks, Molly.”

There was a raised dais at the far end of the room. It had been so far from the door that I hadn't even seen it as we came in. There were eleven men and women seated in thronelike chairs that were embellished with coats of arms and gold inlays.

I knew this was the Grand Council of Witches—minus Abdon Fuller. These were the people who made our lives miserable from time to time. They were feared, sometimes hated and respected by the ordinary witches.

Cassandra was her most charming self as she introduced the members of the council to us. “This is Molly Addison Renard. Elsie Clarrett Langston. And one of our newest witches, Dorothy Dunst Lane.”

All the men and women on the council nodded their heads stiffly.

“Ladies, allow me to present your council members: Owen Graybeard. Sarif Patel. Joshua Bartleson. Larissa Lonescue. Zuleyma Castanada. Rhianna Black. Makaleigh Veazy. Arleigh Burke. Bairne Caelius. Hedyle. And Erinna Coptus.”

Elsie tried to curtsey and almost fell over. I grabbed her arm, and she managed to right herself. I inclined my head in respect without going overboard. Dorothy did a cute little-girl curtsey without Elsie's drama.

I wasn't sure what we should do next. Were they going to speak with us, or was that it?

Cassandra smiled. “I'm so glad I could introduce you to the council,” she said. “This is a solemn time, but I hope you enjoy yourselves.”

I assumed that was it and started backing away, bringing Elsie and Dorothy with me. Cassandra had already moved on. The members of the Grand Council sat like statues overseeing the memorial.

“I'm not sure what I expected the council to look like,” Elsie finally said. “But it wasn't those witches. Do you think they've ever had a new member of the council?”

“Not in our lifetimes,” I said. “I think it's time to make a decision, Dorothy. Do you want to see Brian or not?”

Do you love me?

Tell me now.

I see your eyes in the mirror.

If you love me, tell me now.

The three of us sat on one of the velvet sofas. Servants in black liveries offered us food and drinks. None of us had anything. Even Elsie chose to eat her peanuts instead, saying that she might need the empty bag to take Olivia home.

Dorothy stared at the people around us with a blank expression in her eyes. I wondered if she was thinking about whether or not she wanted to see Brian or if she'd been overwhelmed by meeting the council.

A few witches examined us in disdain, but no one else spoke. I didn't recognize any local witches or even any witches we'd met on our travels, which had taken us around the world. It was as if this was a different level of witches, one that didn't make friends with ordinary people like us.

“I want to see him,” Dorothy suddenly blurted out. She reached for a glass of wine as a servant walked by, and downed it in one swallow. “I can't leave until I see him. I can't believe it's real until I'm sure he's dead.”

Having examined Brian before Cassandra had come for him, I believed we all knew that Brian was gone. I understood what she meant by wanting to see him one last time. Somehow the brain refused to accept that a horrible truth was possible. Sometimes it helped seeing the person again. Sometimes it didn't. But I was willing to do whatever she needed. Despite what Olivia thought about her relationship with Brian, I knew her heart had never been involved with him. Dorothy's was.

“All right.” I took her hand. “Olivia is going to have to wait behind the drape until we're ready to go. I'm sorry. I don't like the council, but I don't want to be the witch who was kicked out because she brought a ghost with her.”

“I understand. I'm sorry.” She sniffed. “How are we going to find him?”

“I think Brian might be over there, where the large group of witches is standing. They're filing past something and it's not the dessert table.”

Dorothy and I looked where Elsie was pointing. There were many witches slowly moving past something that was against a stone wall.

“Let's go see.” I held Dorothy's hand as we got to our feet.

“If Mom couldn't be here, I'm glad that you and Elsie are,” she whispered.

Olivia was peeking out from behind the drape. She hissed at us a few times and tried to flag us down. I ignored her and kept walking. I didn't want Brian's memorial to end in a brawl with a ghost-versus-witch theme. Nor did I want to rub it in the council's faces that we were harboring a ghost. That could be the deciding factor to them for making her disappear forever, as Cassandra had hinted many times.

“Ladies.” Richard Brannigan approached us with a plate of food in one hand and a champagne glass in the other. “It's good to see you. No hard feelings over what went down the last time we met, I hope.”

“None at all,” I told him with a pleasant smile. The dwarf witch lawyer had been Olivia's attorney for her will. He had also tried to take my amulet—at the council's request, of course.

“I'm glad to hear it. I did what was necessary with the werewolf and such.” His beady eyes behind his wire-rimmed spectacles coveted my amulet. “I see you've managed to hold on to it, Molly. Good for you.”

“Thank you. Excuse us. We're going to see Brian.” We walked around him as he called out a farewell. I was glad we weren't saddled with talking to him as we had been with Cassandra. I wasn't particularly fond of him.

We found the end of the long line and stood together, not speaking. The line moved slowly, as the witches paid their last respects in muted voices to Brian as they passed him.

When we finally reached the point where we could see his coffin, Dorothy gasped and her hold tightened on my hand. “What in the world? Are
all
witches buried that way?”

“Oh no!” Elsie's green eyes were riveted to the sight before us. “There's no way I want people looking at me in a glass coffin when I die.”

The glass coffin was incredibly ornate, with gold fittings and a blue velvet interior surrounding Brian's handsome face. He was dressed like a prince, in a gold-and-white costume that looked as though it had come from a Renaissance faire. Heavy gold chains lay around his neck and on his chest. His hands were adorned with gold and jewels on every finger.

“Why did they dress him like that?” Dorothy mumbled, crying.

“Maybe that's the way they saw him,” I replied.

“The young Fuller prince.” Elsie completed my thought.

The coffin was set on a small platform so that no one had to bend over to look closely at Brian. The light from the crystal chandeliers danced in the glass. Brass incense burners wafted the heavy scent of sage and bay laurel around us.

“How can anyone be at peace that way?” Elsie whispered. “He looks uncomfortable.”

“Let's go,” I urged. Nothing more could be gained by standing and staring at him.

“No.” Dorothy shook her head, her dark hair swinging from side to side. “
No
. This isn't right. I just know it isn't.”

Afraid she was about to make a scene, I squeezed her hand. “You have to let him go. I know it's painful, but you have to go on without him.”

Witches behind us were making subtle and not-so-subtle sounds reminding us that there was a long line behind us. Elsie took Dorothy's other hand to console her.

“No!” Dorothy yelled and shook free of both of us. “This isn't happening. It's not right. I won't let him die.”

Elsie and I had no time to react as Dorothy smashed open the glass coffin with one of the brass incense burners. A woman behind us screamed and fell to the floor in a faint. Someone else yelled for security. Most of the people in the line scattered into the large hall.

I tried to reach Dorothy, but there were too many shards of glass preventing me from easily getting her away from the coffin. I coaxed. I pleaded with her. She had become like a possessed mad woman, clearing away the glass from Brian's body until her hands were bloody.

“What in the world is going on here?” Abdon came down on us with his full fury. His mouth was twisted, his eyes blazing with anger when he saw Dorothy on top of what was left of the coffin.

“Maybe we should leave now, Molly,” Elsie suggested. “There's no point in all of us being persecuted, thrown in a dungeon, boiled in a cauldron. Let's
leave
.”

Brian's parents rushed to the scene. Yuriza gasped and grabbed her husband's arm. Schadt balled up his fists and reached for his wand.

Dorothy had finally cleared away most of the glass from Brian. She looked into his young, handsome face and brushed his hair from his forehead with a light hand. “You can't be dead. I won't let you be dead. I love you. I know you love me too.”

Elsie took my hand. “Molly, I think I've seen this movie. Only the girl was in the coffin instead of the boy. I can't remember the name right now.”

“
Snow White
,” I whispered.

Dorothy planted her lips on Brian's, her arms going around him to almost lift him out of the coffin. It happened so quickly that no one had time to react. Two security people stood beside me but didn't move.

“Brian.” Dorothy sobbed against him. “You have to wake up.”

There was no flash of light. No clap of thunder.

But suddenly, Brian was alive again. He sat up in the coffin and put his arms around Dorothy before he kissed her.

“What's going on?” He looked away from her to the astonished faces that surrounded them.

“Son!” Schadt yelled, advancing on the coffin.

“He's not dead.” Yuriza followed him.

“That's ridiculous!” Abdon roared. “Of course he's dead. I checked him myself.”

“I don't think he was dead at all.” Elsie spoke up. “I think it was just the sea witch's spell. Or I guess the old ‘true love's kiss' works too.”

I put my arm around Elsie, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. “She did it. She saved Brian.”

Dorothy still sat on Brian in the demolished coffin.

“True love's kiss, huh?” Brian kissed her through her tears. “Thank you. I love you too.”

“Someone get them out of there before the girl bleeds to death on my grandson,” Abdon shouted. “And get all these mourners out of here too. I need some peace and quiet—and a large whiskey.”