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Authors: Joyce and Jim Lavene

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BOOK: Putting on the Witch
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There were wrapped boxes that size as well as smaller gifts. One of them was a moving waterfall that we speculated might contain a vacation gift. Another was wrapped in rainbows, and still another was encased in a pyramid that had fiery torches on it.

“These people go all out, don't they?” Elsie shook her head.

“There are real golden fish too,” Dorothy said. “Made out of gold. Brian and I saw them. My cat is really pathetic.”

“But I'm sure it will be well loved,” I assured her. “What do you do with real gold fish anyway?”

“You can't eat them,” Elsie said. “I'm starving. Has anyone seen the food table? I hope it's better than it was at the funeral.”

The three of us went to search out the food as trays moved magically past us containing glasses of champagne and other colorful beverages, including some that were on fire.

“What do you think that is?” Dorothy asked.

“Let's try one and see.” I grabbed two of the fiery beverages and handed one to her.

“I want one too,” Elsie said, and grabbed one for herself off another passing tray.

The drink that was on fire was surprisingly frosty and tasted like pineapple. Dorothy took a second one from another tray going in the opposite direction.

“I wouldn't want to live this way, would you?” she asked over the top of her drink. “I hope this isn't what Brian expects after we're married. This isn't normal.”

“Brian has made it very clear that this isn't the lifestyle for him,” I assured her. “He said he wouldn't even come tonight if it wasn't for you.”

“I know.” She watched Brian as he tried to get across the crowded room carrying the pink cat carrier with the pink bow. “But things change, don't they, Molly? You and Joe aren't the same now as you were thirty years ago. What if Brian becomes like his parents?”

“I don't think Brian will ever be like them,” Elsie said. “He was born a rebel, Dorothy. He's going to do what he wants to do, not what they want him to do.”

Dorothy smiled. “I think I need another drink to get through this.”

“Oh, look!” Elsie pointed. “There's the food. At least we don't have to grab it as it waltzes by. Come on. We'll all feel better after we've eaten.”

The food was as elaborate as the rest of the party. I'd
never seen so many large, dead animals displayed in a buffet before. There were also huge amounts of vegetables and fruit, some of them on fire as well, many artfully carved. Several ice sculptures of Brian at different ages graced the long table too.

As we were filling our plates with the help of white-gloved servants, Dorothy began shaking her wrist.

“What's wrong?” I asked her. “Is the bracelet too tight?”

“No.” She frowned at her wrist. “It's something else. I don't know—”

Suddenly, there was Olivia. Her ghost form had slipped out of the bracelet where she'd hidden to get into the ball.

“Oh bother.”

CHAPTER 7

“What are you doing here, Olivia?” Elsie demanded. “Are you trying to get us thrown out before we even have a chance to eat?”

“I'm so sorry,” Olivia said. “I just wanted to come to the birthday ball so badly. I've been practicing this spell to hide for a while. Well, not really a spell, since my magic is gone. It's more like harnessing my energy to do what I want. I know you all understand. No one wants to be left behind.”


Shh!
” I cautioned as they started getting louder.

“We don't care what it is,” Elsie continued her rant but at a lower pitch. “You have to go.”

“I can't just go,” Olivia wailed. “I managed to move some of my runes from the staff to the bracelet, which I thought would be much more attractive than Dorothy carrying around that big staff. You all look so lovely. I'm so jealous, even though I went to Madam Tunis's myself many times. Dorothy, you are just beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Dorothy walked into a shadowed corner
of the room with Olivia following her, tethered by the magic in the bracelet. “Why didn't you tell me? I would've helped you. I felt terrible leaving you home.”

“You are so sweet. I just didn't want to get you in trouble.”

“And yet here you are floating around,” Elsie said.

“We need to get her back in the bracelet,” I interrupted. “Let's not have to sneak out like last time and embarrass Brian. Elsie, find him. We may need his help making this bracelet work again.”

Elsie took her plate with her to find Brian. Dorothy and I stood in the corner, hoping no one would notice that we had a ghost with us.

“I'm so sorry, Molly,” Olivia said. “I thought I had the spell down perfectly. Well, not really a spell—”

“I know.
Shh
. If we can hear you speaking, so can every other witch in this room.” I glared at my old friend even though I understood how she felt. “This is why you should have included us. We could've helped you and made sure what you were doing was solid.”

“I know. I know. Do you think you can get me back in the bracelet?”

“We'll see. Now please, stop talking and keep very still.”

Brian and Elsie were finally coming toward us. They had to part the ocean of sparkling witches who stood between us, each one wanting to wish Brian a happy birthday.

“What happened?” Brian asked when he got close.

“The inevitable,” Elsie said. “Olivia screwed up again.”

“You don't have to be so harsh,” Olivia responded.

“We have to get her back in the bracelet,” I told Brian. “You know what will happen if they catch us here.”

Brian grinned at Olivia. “Nice disguise. I didn't even see you there when I was holding Dorothy.”

Olivia preened at his compliment. “You really think so? I also managed to make a call to Larry's cell phone to distract everyone. That's the first time I've been able to do that.”

“So you were the one who called Larry to meet us. That's why it wasn't on his phone!” Elsie exclaimed.

“I think it's great.” Brian laughed. “I love that you're here. There's no reason why ghosts and witches, and werewolves too, can't mingle. It would be good for this crowd to get the sticks out of their butts.”

“But not right now, please.” Dorothy looked frantic. “Not tonight. We need to get her back in the bracelet before anyone sees her.”

He shrugged. “Okay. Whatever you want. But I still think it's funny.”

“Is there a small room where we could go to work this magic before anyone notices what we're doing?” I asked him. I agreed with Brian in principle, but I didn't want our group to be embarrassed again in front of his family.

“Sure. There are hundreds of small rooms. Follow me.”

Dorothy, Elsie and I huddled around the smallest Olivia could make herself as we followed him. People kept stopping and talking to him, but they ignored us. We probably looked ridiculous—as though we couldn't walk without one another. But better that than for them to guess that we were hiding a ghost.

Brian finally opened a door. The room it revealed was as elaborately decorated as the entire castle seemed to be. The walls were covered in pink gauze with silver shot through it. The fireplace was made of pink marble, as was the floor. The furniture was delicate pink and deeply cushioned. Mirrors of different shapes and sizes hung everywhere.

“What a beautiful room,” Elsie exclaimed. “Does your mother spend a lot of time here?”

“My mother doesn't spend a lot of time anywhere. My parents are always going somewhere or other. This should do to give us some privacy until we can get Olivia back in the bracelet.”

Olivia was flitting around the room, admiring the
gorgeous decorations. Dorothy called her back to us so we could get on with it before Brian was missed.

“What's this?” Olivia zoomed down to the floor behind the silver and pink velvet sofa.

“Mom! Please, let's do this.” Dorothy tried to get her attention.

“Oh, girls!” Olivia's head appeared through the back of the sofa. “Something terrible has happened! Makaleigh Veazy is back here. She's been hurt. I—I hope she's all right.”

Brian shoved the sofa out of the way, and we all gathered behind it. Makaleigh was lying on the pink marble, which was rapidly turning red with her blood. A large, elaborately made knife was sticking out of her back. It glistened with heavy jewels in the gold hilt.

“She's still alive.” Dorothy checked her pulse. “We have to get her to the hospital.”

Makaleigh's eyes fluttered open in her gray face. “No. There's nothing you can do. The knife was poisoned.”

We joined hands and each placed one hand on Makaleigh before we called on several strong healing spells. I could feel our strength together as we fought for her life. It felt as though she was slipping away. With all her magic, and all ours too, there was no way to bring her back. She was lost to us.

“Who did this to you?” I took her hand, squeezed hard and stared into her fading eyes. “If we can't save you, we can at least avenge you.” With her died our hope of ever making the Grand Council of Witches consider changing the stranglehold of fear they held on us. No doubt there were plenty of suspects. I wished Joe was here to take charge.

“Come closer.” She pulled my head down to her. “They must stop, Molly. The council must stop persecuting the witches. Promise me.”

“I promise to do what I can,” I said tearfully.

“Remember this.” Makaleigh muttered a few words that
I couldn't clearly understand. They sounded like gibberish. Maybe the passing of a soul from one world to the next. There was no time to ask her to repeat them. I cried as her hand released mine.

“So much for not having a funeral while we're here,” Elsie sobbed.

CHAPTER 8

It all seemed to have happened so quickly. One minute Makaleigh was with us, and the next she was gone. I felt confused and angry. Why had this happened? Why now of all times when the most important revolution in the last few hundred years of witch history was about to take place?

And maybe the answer to that question was what had doomed Makaleigh and her new ideas.

We didn't touch anything and left Makaleigh as she lay. Being the wife of a homicide detective, I knew the rules. Even if the police wouldn't handle this murder, things needed to be done right so that the killer could be found.

Brian went to tell his grandfather what had happened. Dorothy, Elsie and I huddled in a far corner of the room away from the dead council member. Even though this tragedy had occurred, we still had to put our magic together to get Olivia back into the bracelet. I hated to think what the other members of the council would think if they found us here—with a ghost and a dead body. We wouldn't be able
to cover her presence in the castle with dozens of witches looking at us for answers as to what had happened to Makaleigh.

“Concentrate, ladies,” Olivia encouraged. “I know I shouldn't have done this, but it's too late to go back now. They can't find me this way, for all our sakes.”

“Brian should've stayed and helped us with this before he went off to tell everyone,” Elsie grumbled.

“People had to be notified. Knowing the time of death is very important to a police investigation,” I reminded her.

“I don't think that's gonna happen,” Dorothy said. “The council won't let anyone else help with it.”

“That's for sure,” Elsie grunted. “They'd have to wipe the memories of the whole police department!”

“Let's try this again,” I encouraged. “Olivia, you got yourself into this bracelet. We can help, but you need to make it happen again.”

“And quickly,” Dorothy urged. “It won't be long before the whole council is here.”

“Not to mention all those other people who are going to want to know what's going on,” Elsie said.

We joined our magic one more time, and Olivia closed her eyes. She slowly began to merge with the bracelet again. Everything but her eyes became part of the enchanted metal. It was creepy watching her eyes move back and forth across the bracelet as she tried to see what was going on, but someone would have to look closely to notice. Elsie and I finished off with a hiding spell with no more than an instant to spare.

“Where is she?” Abdon demanded as he marched like an angry general into the sitting room. “You three. I should have known you were involved.”

We had to hope that Olivia had been well enough hidden in the bracelet by the time he barged in that he didn't notice.
Dorothy put her hand over her wrist, holding it against her side.

I winced to think of her putting her hand on top of Olivia's eyes.

“Move your hand, honey,” Olivia whispered. “I can't see a thing.”

We all shushed her at the same time, gathering closer to Dorothy. Not that it would help hide Olivia completely, but it felt as though there was solidarity when we were close.

“Are you daring to tell me to be quiet?” Abdon roared.

Brian appeared a moment later. “Don't give them a hard time. I was with them when we found Makaleigh. She was already near death. I came to get you right away. But we didn't kill her or have anything to do with it.”

“Nearly dead? Did she say anything?” he demanded.

I immediately thought that his words seemed suspicious, since she had muttered those few words, which may have implicated her killer—if I could have understood her. I went back to that moment and went over what she'd said to me. It didn't make any sense, and I wasn't planning to randomly share until I knew the person who heard me wasn't her killer.

After all, Abdon may have been one of those people who didn't like the change Makaleigh was urging me to fight for. I knew that no matter what the rest of us did, with Makaleigh gone, it was unlikely that her ideas would have any impact on the council.

Not to mention that not just anyone could have killed her—though a witch of Abdon's strength would be at the top of the list. So I kept my own council on Makaleigh's last words.

Everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to say something.
Thanks, Brian!
“I'm sorry. She just thanked us for our help.” It was a lie, but it might be an important one. If not, I could always tell the truth. Probably not to Abdon, but to someone.

“Of all the half-witted, incompetent witches to find someone important dead, you three are the worst!” He went down on one knee to be near her, taking her hand in his and murmuring, “Oh my dear. This should never have ended this way for you.”

He was right, of course. Most witches had an idea of when they were going to die. Our magic helped us avoid accidental death, even murder. Makaleigh shouldn't have died this way. She should have been able to avoid it, just as Olivia should have. I couldn't imagine how hard this was for her, even if she couldn't see what was happening as well as we could.

Though witches were born with the information regarding their deaths, it was forbidden to share it with anyone else. No one would know when Makaleigh's death was supposed to happen. It took powerful magic for it to circumvent what should have been the natural order of her life.

As it had taken powerful, evil magic to kill Olivia.

As Abdon mourned her, more witches joined us in the small room. Brian's parents saw what had happened and came to stand with their son. Members of the council filed in, most averting their eyes from their friend's death. Because it was unnatural, many witches would try to keep themselves apart from it. It was a means of protecting themselves from further happenings away from the natural order.

The room was filled to capacity with whispering, suspicion and fear. If this could happen to Makaleigh, it could happen to anyone. No one was safe. What could be done to protect other witches from the threat?

Abdon finally got to his feet in jerky movements and wiped a hand across his tears. “We must find the witch who did this. No matter what it takes. Makaleigh's killer must be found and made to pay for his or her crime.”

Everyone agreed and shouted encouragement for the idea.
I felt sure most of them wouldn't want to be actively involved in that procedure, but like other mob activities, they wanted someone else to take care of it.

“Summon the witchfinder!” Sarif Patel, one of the other council members, called to Abdon. “Bring him forward until the killer is identified.”

“Witchfinder?” Elsie whispered to me. “Is that what I think it is? Is that really a thing? I mean, I've heard old stories from my grandmother, but I didn't believe it was true.”

Abdon held out his hands for quiet as the shouting demands for calling the witchfinder increased.

Dorothy looked curiously at me. Like Elsie and probably every other older witch in the room, I'd heard the old tales and put them down to mythology. Many of the younger witches would have no idea what they were talking about. From the stories I'd heard as a child, it had been hundreds of years since the witchfinder was called.

The witchfinder was one of the oldest legends—at least I'd always thought of it as such—a witch's bogeyman.
If you're not good, the witchfinder will come for you
. He was supposed to be one of the original members of the Spanish Inquisition who went above and beyond his calling to bring witches to trial and finally to flame in the early 1500s. They said he was responsible for the deaths of a thousand witches. He had a knack, almost magical, for finding his prey, and he took great pleasure in getting them to confess and killing them in ghoulish ways.

When it was over, it was said that a powerful spell was cast upon him to make him the slave of the witches he'd wronged for all time. The witches could call upon him to serve them in anything they might need. His body was said to be hidden somewhere and reanimated—when they called.

It occurred to me that Makaleigh, and maybe Abdon, had helped make the decision to punish the witchfinder by this
means. What spell had they used that was powerful enough to trap the man forever?

“What exactly is that?” Dorothy had never heard the old stories that Elsie, Olivia and I had grown up with.

Brian took her hand and explained in muted tones, bringing all our nightmares into real life. “I've never seen the witchfinder. He hasn't been called in hundreds of years,” he whispered. “But a council member hasn't been murdered in that long either. Anything is possible now.”

Even the molecules in the air around us seemed different. The passing of an ancient, powerful witch like Makaleigh was no trifling matter. I couldn't imagine how it was possible for someone to have killed her. I thought she'd be above that kind of thing. I thought all the members of the council would be better protected.

I fingered my amulet, feeling the power of the sea trapped inside it. While there was still a great deal of magic in it, it wasn't as strong here as it was in Wilmington. It had to be that we weren't near a large body of water. With the river and the sea in proximity, water witches like myself were strongest. Makaleigh was a water witch too.

“Where are we, Brian?” I asked him softly as the other witches in the room were still expressing their outrage over Makaleigh's death.

“We're still in our world, but slightly set apart in reality,” he explained. “It's a powerful spell set by the Fuller family a thousand years ago. I've never had anything to do with it, but that's why no one can just get here and they had to send the cars. Leave it to the Fullers to go overboard in paranoia.”

“That explains the loss of water energy that I feel around us.”

“I feel the same about the earth energy,” Dorothy said. “I noticed it right away. How can we not be on the earth?”

“Did I also mention the dampening spell that protects the castle from magic assaults against it?” Brian grimaced.
“That's right, ladies. My ancestors tried to think of everything. All the witches here are operating on half power.”

“Which made Makaleigh's death possible.” Elsie sneezed and looked around at us. “What? It's what happened. I hate she's gone too, but someone carefully set this up.”

BOOK: Putting on the Witch
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