A Tale of 3 Witches Read online

  The dogs came trotting in and when they saw the baby, they ran over and licked her little feet and legs. The baby squealed with laughter.

  "Look at that," Mara said. "The dogs love her. And if there was anything of Lucien in her, they would know it. If you don't believe me, believe the dogs."

  Paul looked uncertain, but Mara saw him keeping a close eye on the dogs with the baby, to make sure they didn't get overly aggressive with her. And with that, she suddenly knew that everything was going to be okay.

  "I have a small proposition for you..." she said, moving to sit next to him.

  * * *

  After Paul left, Gus walked through the living room, crunching on an apple.

  "Want a bite? Picked a fresh one for you." He tossed her an apple.

  "Sure." She caught the apple and went on frowning at her tarot cards.

  "What's going on?" He sat down next to her.

  "I was trying to find out if this trip is a bad idea. This pile is what will happen if we don't go, the other is what will happen if we do go."

  "And...?"

  "They're both bad. If we don't go, there's going to be chaos and disaster, and if we do go there's going to be chaos and disaster."

  "Then there's only one thing to do. Screw the status quo and full speed ahead. Life is all about change, Miss Thing. I'm already packed." Gus looked around. "Where's Paul? Where's the baby? I thought I heard them down here. Did you get everything worked out?"

  "Yeah. I can't pay him enough to spend the weekend here."

  "Honey child, you talked to him? I thought you were going to cast a spell on him. Bring him back. Let Gus handle everything."

  Mara looked at him, annoyed. "You use magic way too much. Besides, I took care of it. He packed up his truck with all the supplies he's going to need and he took the baby and the dogs to his place."

  "You think they're going to be okay?"

  Mara thought about it. "Yeah. I do. I think this could be exactly what they need. He doesn't want to admit it, but I think he's coming around."

  "Yes! So what are we waiting for?" Gus glanced at his watch. "If we leave now, we'll be at our haunted holiday by morning."

  "Gus, seriously? Drive all night? I hate doing that. I'm tired just thinking about it."

  "And that, Miss Thing, is why I took a nap this afternoon. I'll drive, you sleep." Gus grinned at her and stood up. "You keep dawdling and Tillie's going to kick your ass. So go grab your stuff and let's get a move on. Samhain awaits!"

  CHAPTER FOUR

  They drove all night, finally arriving in Amethyst, Illinois the day before Halloween. The town itself seemed a lot like Devil's Point, Wisconsin, where Mara lived: small, picturesque, antique-y, with an undercurrent of the supernatural. An undercurrent that vibrated so strongly, even normal humans were probably able to feel it.

  "I love this place!" Gus shouted, as they parked in front of an old, three-story Victorian house. In the front yard was a sign: Geraghty Girls Guest House. They walked along the black wrought iron fence to a winding brick pathway. Even though the house was painted in cheerful colors, it couldn't quite shake its spooky aura. The path and the expansive porch were decorated with gourds, cornstalks, tiny skull lights and everything you might expect of the season. Except instead of a scarecrow sitting on the front porch, it was a witch, complete with long pointy hat, flowing velvet cape, striped nylons and ruby slippers.

  "Okay, you're right. This is kinda fun." Mara capitulated. "But it's going to have be a lot more fun than this to justify leaving the baby."

  "Y'know, there's a reason doctors insist the umbilical cord gets cut. Obviously, I didn't make it a clean enough cut." Gus said, eyeballing her. "Maybe I should have used a silver axe."

  "Oh, hush up. Just because I'm attached to my child. All moms are."

  Gus snorted. "Are not. My mom had me working the second I popped out of the womb."

  "Really? You actually came out of a womb? Here, all this time, I thought you were hatched." Mara teased.

  "Very funny. Laugh it up, Princess Porcine. At least I don't look like an egg."

  "Hey, hands off my pregnancy pounds. You don't get to nag me about them until you pop out a munchkin of your own."

  As they climbed the stairs to the porch, Mara took a second look and realized the witch was also wearing a fluffy pink tulle gown beneath the cape and holding a wand with a star at the tip. It was as if they couldn't decide on the Good Witch of the North or the Wicked Witch of the West, so they opted for both. Mara smiled. She had a feeling she was going to like these Geraghty Girls.

  Then the witch pulled out a flask of Jameson, startling Mara, who screamed and bumped into Gus, who then fell into the doorbell.

  The witch looked at them and said, "Hello, dears. Do you have a reservation?"

  Mara doubled up with laughter.

  Gus rolled his eyes. "Don't mind her," he said, pointing at Mara. "Her brain's been oxygen-deprived."

  Mara tried to stop laughing. "It's not my fault. She startled me!" To the witch she said, "That was great. Can you do it again?"

  Gus elbowed her in the stomach.

  "Ouch! Sorry, we do have reservations," Mara explained, once she regained her composure. "Under Tillie MacDougal."

  The witch popped up out of her seat, said, "Oh my, it's been so long!" And then squeezed Mara for all she was worth.

  Confused, Mara hugged her back. Then, to Mara's relief, the door swung open, causing Gus to hurriedly scurry out of the way before it smacked him, and there stood another woman, with the same copper hair as the porch witch, only taller.

  The porch witch released Mara, clapped her hands and said, "Look! It's Tillie come for a visit. After all these years!"

  Mara looked back and forth between the women. "I'm sorry, is one of you Birdie by any chance?"

  The woman at the door frowned, adding a few more wrinkles to her mature face. "I am Birdie Geraghty and you, young lady, are not Tillie MacDougal."

  Just then, a tall girl with strawberry blond hair appeared behind the woman, trailed by the biggest dog Mara had ever seen. He looked like Maramaduke. They were descending the inside stairs when something seemed to trip her. She lurched forward then leaned back to catch herself to no avail. Her feet flew out from under her and she bounced all the way down the stairs, landing on the hallway floor.

  "What the hell?" the girl said and looked back up the stairs.

  Birdie closed her eyes, composed her face, then gestured at the girl, introducing her. "This is my granddaughter, Stacy."

  Stacy stood up, brushing herself off, and joined them on the porch. "Birdie, why on Earth is there a toad jumping up the stairs? Please tell me it's not for a special recipe."

  Mara and Gus looked at each other and Mara gave a small grimace.

  "I didn't see a toad," Gus said, straight-faced. "Maybe the dog pushed you."

  Mara frowned at him and he frowned back at her, slightly shaking his head. He was probably right, not wanting to tell them about Grundleshanks. Not many people would be able to understand why the ghost of a toad was hopping around. And how he became a ghost was a long story, better told over a bottle of bourbon. Not that she could remember what bourbon tasted like, anymore. It had been a long, dry pregnancy.

  "It was probably a shadow. Shadows can be tricky that way," Mara said, clearing her throat.

  Stacy gave Mara a funny look and looked back at the stairs for a final inspection.

  Mara turned back to Birdie. "Tillie's my great-aunt. I'm Mara Stephens. And this is my friend, Gus. Tillie..."

  Birdie held up a hand to cut her off. She tilted her head, as if listening. "Tillie is... dead?" Birdie rolled her eyes and said to the witch on the porch, "Lolly, have you ever heard of anything so irresponsible? Now what are we supposed to do?"

  Lolly, formerly known as the porch witch, shrugged.

  Birdie, Lolly and Stacy, Mara repeated to herself, trying to commit their names to memory. "It was your note. Aunt Tillie said we needed to be h
ere, so you could have a full coven supporting you."

  "I thought your Aunt Tillie was dead," Stacy said, and then she lurched forward again as if something shoved her.

  "Seriously, what the heck?" Stacy twirled all the way around to see what was poking her.

  "She is dead," Mara said, glancing at Birdie. "She just doesn't let it stand in her way."

  Birdie looked around at Stacy, then suddenly cackled, as if she had just been let in on a joke. Then she turned and glared at Mara, eyeing her up and down, before she eyed Gus. "There's only one room set aside for Tillie. The girl can stay. You'll have to get a room at the motel on the interstate."

  "Please excuse my grandmother," Stacy said to Mara. "It isn't that she has no manners, she's just been in a bad mood for thirty years." She turned back to Birdie. "Birdie, unmarried people share rooms together all the time now."

  "And society is in a poorer place for it," Birdie snapped.

  Mara hesitated, not sure what to do.

  Gus pushed her forward, saying, "I agree with you. Lousy girls should never be allowed to sleep in the same bed as us glorious men. But I'm not fussy. As long as she keeps her girl cooties away from me, I'm willing to share."

  "Hey!" Mara protested.

  "Hey, nothing. Now, hush up or you're sleeping on the floor." Gus said, trying to push her in the door.

  Stacy's mouth twitched, as she tried not to laugh.

  Birdie snorted, eyeing Mara and Gus again. "You are poor substitutes, but I suppose you'll have to do."

  Stacy turned to Birdie and said, "They'll have to do what?"

  Birdie looked at Stacy, exasperated. Then, as if it explained everything, she said, "Samhain!"

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Stacy was pouring a shot of Jameson into her Aunt Lolly's coffee cup when she noticed Mara eyeing her. They were about the same age and apparently came from the same kind of crazy, although Mara seemed to handle it better. Stacy envied that and she suddenly felt a kinship to the girl. Mara had soft eyes, but a determined set to her face, and Stacy thought they might get along well.

  "She doesn't fully believe, but she's close," Tillie whispered into Mara's ear. "Something must have steered her from the path."

  "No kidding," Mara muttered to her aunt.

  Stacy smiled nervously at her guest. "I know it may look strange, but whiskey actually keeps Lolly sharp. And apparently," Stacy added, rolling her eyes, "we'll be needing her at her best."

  Lolly cackled, downed the mug and walked off into the pantry, in search of something that sounded like "biskies."

  "Where's Gus?" Stacy asked.

  "Still unpacking. He likes to have everything put away exactly where he wants it or his brain goes on strike. At least, that's what he tells me."

  "That would drive me crazy," Stacy said. "Want some coffee?"

  "I'd love some. Without the whiskey though. I even look at alcohol nowadays, and it makes me fall asleep." Mara sat down, returning to one of her favorite subjects. "Gus is just weird about certain things. Like, the house can be a mess, but his magickal herbs have to be labeled and alphabetized. He's fanatical about the temple space being clean, but I can't get him to pick up after himself in the house." Mara rolled her eyes. "Priorities, right?"

  Thor trotted through the kitchen and slapped the back door with his huge paw. It was warm for this October night so the outer door was open and the screen was unlatched. It flung open and Thor trotted out the door. Stacy watched as it banged behind him.

  "That is awesome!" Mara said, laughing. "I need to teach my Dobermans how to do that."

  Stacy put a cup of coffee in front of Mara and said, "Oh, I love Dobies. Smart dogs. I can't take credit for Thor, though. He came pre-trained."

  Mara looked around. "How long is your great-aunt going to stay in the pantry?"

  "It's a really big pantry," Stacy laughed, deciding not to explain Lolly's peccadillo about the pantry.

  "As long as she's out of there by tonight, I guess we're okay. Dinner and then a midnight scrying session, right?" They were going to try to get more information on the danger they were about to face. That was the trouble with portents. They got everyone all worked up and then reality either amounted to a fraction of what you feared was coming, or it could wallop you into next Tuesday.

  Stacy nodded and was about to sit down when she nearly doubled over, gripping her stomach, and then put her hand to her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned against the table. Sweat poured from her.

  "Are you okay?" Mara rushed to Stacy's side, careful not to touch her. Last thing she wanted to do was cause the girl more pain.

  "This. Is. Your. Aunt. I think." Stacy ground out, as if each word hurt her. Suddenly, she stood upright, her face set to pissed off and said, "I got it, Tillie! Now stop harassing me or else I'll, I'll... Well, I'll send you to a very dark, very cold place for all eternity, that's what I'll do!"

  Mara heard Aunt Tillie's laughter echoing in her head, like a challenge, but decided not to mention it. Last thing she wanted right now was to be a referee between the living and the dead.

  Stacy took a deep breath and said to Mara, "Geez I thought my grandmother and aunts were bad, but this one's worse than even Birdie."

  "What's she doing?" Mara asked, a little afraid of the answer. She had had first-hand experience with Tillie's brand of undead warfare and it wasn't pretty.

  Stacy went to the sink for a glass of water. She poured it and turned back to Mara. "Your aunt is kicking my ass." She said, as she wiped her brow with a towel. "I don't think she trusts me."

  "Why? What did she do?" Mara asked.

  Stacy took a deep breath. "I can't hear dead people. I only get feelings and images. From what I gather, she's pushing me around because she's afraid I'm going to miss or ignore or forget something in my vision, so she's piggybacking on top of them. If you get the chance, please tell her the visions I get are photographic imprints on my mind." She looked at Mara pointedly. "I never forget, so she can ease back on the kung-foo fighting."

  Mara smiled. "I'm pretty sure she's listening, but I'll tell her."

  "Good. These visions are hard enough. I don't need her giving me a migraine on top of them." Stacy sat down at the kitchen table, still holding onto her glass of water.

  Mara sat back down, next to her, curious. "What was the vision?"

  Stacy shuddered rather violently. "This is going to sound crazy–"

  Mara interrupted her. "My whole life is about crazy. That toad you've been tripping over? His name is Grundleshanks. He's dead. He travelled here with us, along with Aunt Tillie. And you've met Gus, right? There is nothing you can say to me that will make me think you're any crazier than we are."

  The two women faced each other and Stacy opened her mouth to reply – but couldn't. Mara quickly grabbed Stacy's hands and held on as all around them, the lights brightened, nearly blinding them. And then, in a flash, the lights burst, sparks rained down, and they were plunged into total darkness for what seemed like an eternity.

  * * *

  Mara's voice sounded in the darkness, trance-like. "Blackness and then shadows. Hills, valleys. Then gaping nothingness."

  Stacy's voice, eerie, almost otherworldly, picked up the vision: "Torturous uncertainty. A vacuous void of pain and then loss..."

  "A veil of tears," Mara said, her voice shaking, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  * * *

  Suddenly, the room was back to normal. The lights were on and they were fine. No broken bulbs, no shattered glass. The room was calm.

  Mara looked at Stacy and dropped her hands, a wordless "oh" forming on her mouth.

  "You saw it! You captured my vision!" Stacy said. "That was... I didn't think anybody could do that."

  Mara nodded. "Yeah. Learn something new every day, right?" Although it had taken Mara by surprise as well, since she had never met Stacy before. And that wasn't normally something she could do with just anyone. They must have some kind of bond between them that ran deeper than f
lesh.

  "Hmmm, maybe as deep as witchblood?" Tillie cackled in her head.

  Mara brushed Tillie away. Yes, yes. Witchblood, blah, blah, blah. But what had the vision meant? As far as visions went, it had been frustrating. Mostly emotion and feelings.

  Stacy and Mara looked at each other.

  "Do you know what it means?" Stacy asked.

  Mara shook her head and said, "Whatever is coming is bad."

  "I got that much," Stacy said, exasperated.

  Mara closed her eyes and nudged Tillie for an answer.

  "I'll tell you what it means, Missy. It means I was right and you'd better get your patoot in gear. Whatever it is, is on the way."

  Mara opened her eyes and looked at Stacy. "We need to be prepared now. Whatever it is, it's starting tonight. It's not waiting until Samhain."

  Stacy sighed. What a strange girl this Mara was. Normally, she'd argue against anyone coming in out of the blue and bossing her around. But she couldn't shake a feeling that this time, she needed to go ahead and trust this woman, even if she hadn't known her long. "Okay. Where do we start?"

  Mara relaxed, thinking. Then she suddenly smiled at Stacy, mischievous. "Wait, before we do anything, I just have to ask. Can you really send aunt Tillie to a cold, dark place for all eternity?"

  Stacy smiled back and made a face. "No. But I can sing 'Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall' until she wants to go to one."

  Only Mara could hear Tillie say, "I heard that, punk."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Stacy and Mara had reported what they'd seen to Birdie, who started cursing herself for not having insisted the full coven arrive earlier. From what Mara understood, most of the sworn coven resided miles away, and since they hadn't planned on getting there until midnight, that was most likely when they'd show up. Thankfully, the town was filled with wannabe witches, along with a few coven members, and on this night there was no time to waste. So Birdie had hurriedly made a few phone calls while Lolly helped Stacy bake. Although most of Lolly's help consisted of filching the cookie dough and popping it in her mouth before Stacy could get it in the oven. But since the coven would need food to ground with, after they were done, Stacy just sighed and opened another package of pre-made cookie dough. Thankfully, Birdie was on the phone and away from the kitchen or she'd have a coronary that Stacy wasn't baking from scratch.