Secrets and Sorcery

  Secrets and Sorcery

  by

  Constance Barker

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright 2018 Constance Barker

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

  Thanks for Reading

  Catalog of Books

  Copyright 2018 Constance Barker

  All rights reserved.

  Similarities to real people, places or events are purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Chapter One

  “I CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL uneasy with him still out there,” Becky said staring down at me from on top of the ladder that I was holding. We were stuck putting up the decorations for a new limited exhibit the Civil War Museum was doing. Why the museum suddenly decided to have an exhibit of witchcraft was beyond me, it wasn’t exactly on brand. Though, we were one of the few museums in town, so it did make sense to try and capitalize on the witch history of Stillwater. They’d be surprised to know how much they got wrong though, and I’m sure even more surprised to know that witches still exist in Stillwater.

  “Brown must have had far more resources than we thought. It takes a lot of money and knowing the right people in order to just disappear like that.” I replied passing her a kitschy paper model of a witch on a broom. The entire ceiling was dotted with them now, along with other clichés like black cats and cauldrons. Not entirely untrue, but still an unfortunate stereotype of our kind faces. Stillwater was now home to at least four witches, three ghosts, two warlocks (though they didn’t have much power left in their family bloodline) and one talking cat. That was all I knew of anyways. Becky and I were one half of the witches and the other two were Hazel, Becky’s long estranged grandmother, and the other was my sister, Fern. “You know that Fern is doing everything she can to track him, but there’s just nothing.” Brown had been the sheriff before Fern and when he lost to her, he went a little insane. He and a few of his minions carried out more than a few murders to try and get Fern booted from her position. His minions were rotting safely in jail, but he had managed to get away and leave no trace.

  “I know she’s trying, I certainly don’t blame her,” Becky insisted, and I knew that she didn’t. The same could not be said for Fern, as she felt like the whole affair was her fault.

  “Could you move that a little to the right?” A shrill voice said from behind us. I was glad it wasn’t me on the ladder or I might have fallen off the voice startled me so much.

  “Sure, Amber,” Becky said pleasantly. I made a secret grimace towards Becky. I had almost forgotten that Amber was around. She'd been floating in and out all day, and subsequently in and out of my nerves as well. The museum director wanted to call in an expert on witches for the exhibit, so he called on Amber. She was the owner of a joke of a store called The Witches Cauldron and liked to claim that she had connections ‘to the other side’. Other side of what, I don’t know. This made her an expert in the director’s eyes though, so I had been forced to work side by side with her for the past few days. It was hard to bite my tongue through all the misinformation, but I had managed so far. The last thing that any of us needed was nosy, gossipy Amber in our business.

  “You know Stillwater had its own Witch Trials, but no one who died was actually a witch,” Amber said. She spoke so loudly I wasn’t sure if she thought she was teaching in a lecture hall instead of having a conversation with two people in a small hallway. “Yeah,” She nodded. “It’s true.”

  “Wow,” I replied, still not turning to face her. I had decided to become extremely focused on holding the ladder that Becky stood on so I wouldn’t have to make any direct eye contact with her. “That’s amazing.”

  “Really unbelievable,” Becky said with a sincere smile. She was far better at faking than I was, though I did suspect she might actually like Amber. I hadn’t really known Becky to dislike anyone unless they were guilty of a terrible crime that is. Even then she would wonder what horror happened to them in their childhoods that made them that way. I thought she was entirely too forgiving, though thankfully she had yet to have any feelings of pity for the former Sheriff. “I mean of course they weren’t really witches, they don’t exist anyways,” Becky added, and I could have sworn she winked at me as she spoke. She had found the museum exhibits lack of real knowledge more entertaining than annoying, especially when it came to the ignorance of its so called expert.

  “You don’t believe?” Amber asked. I could hear her hand hit her chest in surprise. “A little more to the left, could you?” Becky nodded and moved the witch back to the same position it was in when she had first put it up. “Perfect.”

  “What’s there to believe?” I asked with a smirk, finally turning to face her. I had never really thought that Amber held any stock in the mumbo jumbo that she sold. I assumed she was in it entirely for profit, but maybe she did have some belief in the paranormal after all. “It’s like believing in the tooth fairy or Santa Claus.” It was more fun than it should be to tease her about believing in magic, when we knew for certain of its existence.

  “You poor dears,” Amber shook her head condescendingly, as though she were the only enlightened one in the room. “Witchcraft was and still is very real. It’s been practiced for centuries. I can’t believe you work at a museum and don’t know this,” she crowed. “It’s not some made up fairy tale, it’s the real history of our town. We were founded by a coven, didn’t you know?” she asked rhetorically. We did in fact know this, considering that in all technicalities we made up half the coven that occupied the town today. “You two should really brush up on your history before the exhibit opens. I’m not going to be the only one conducting tours. Oh, and you should stop by my store after your shifts. I carry a book on the history of magic and witchcraft in Stillwater. It’s only $32.50.” It took most of my self-control to not scoff at both the ridiculous price tag on a book that I knew to be mostly fiction and at the fact that her entire speech ended up being one long advertisement.

  “That sounds great...I’ll be sure to check it out,” Becky said before I could respond. It was for the best as I definitely had nothing nice to say.

  “It is great, I think you’ll find it very informative. I really think you should both get a copy before the exhibit opens. I don’t want you two to give bad information. It won’t reflect too well on me,” Amber said somehow sounding both condescending and genuinely worried at the same time.

  “We wouldn’t want that,” I said sarcastically. Becky threw me a glance, trying to remind me to be nice. She and Amber had been friends at one time, and Becky seemed to think all her foibles were more endearing than unbearable. I did make some effort to be nice to her, if only for Becky’s sake. Regardless, Amber either didn’t catch the sarcasm or decided to ignore it.

  “No, we wouldn’t,” she replied. “I’m off now, got to get back to the store while there’s still some time left in the day.” With one wave of her hand she was gone. I was surprised she had even told us she was leaving as she'd been in the habit of just slipping away seemingly at random. Almost as quickly as she was gone, Becky was off the ladder.

  “We should go check in on the ghosts,” She said her tone serious. They were also in an adjustment period, a
s their longtime companion, Little Timmy had sacrificed himself in order to put a stop to the evil of the former sheriff. Colonel Augustus and Mary Jane had spent the better part of the last hundred and fifty years or so with Little Timmy as a constant companion. In fact, they had all died together on the battlefield that was now the biggest attraction for the Civil War Museum. With him gone, they seemed to be quite forlorn. Morgan, one of the unfortunate victims of the Sheriff had joined them since then though. I didn’t know what was more difficult, them adjusting to life without Little Timmy or to life with Morgan. A modern era teenager was a bit much for them to deal with.

  “That’s probably a good idea,” I agreed. The cheesy decorations could wait a little while longer. We weren’t really sure why Morgan had become a ghost, but she didn’t seem too bothered by it.

  “This place is so lame,” Morgan groaned as we walked out onto the battlefield. “I mean, no offense, but the last time I was here it was because I was forced to by my elementary school.” It took some convincing to get Morgan to leave the forest where she had died. In fact, we hadn’t even been sure that we would be able to.

  “Would you rather be in the forest?” I asked with my brows raised. She had complained about being alone in the forest all the time, and we had worked extremely hard on a spell to release her from the spot where she died. We had to tether her to the battlefield, where there was an overload of ghost activity with the absence of Little Timmy.

  “No, I guess not,” she conceded. “Sometimes I think that the trees were better company than these two though.” Morgan jabbed her thumb in the direction of Mary Jane and Colonel Augustus.

  “That is very rude,” Mary Jane scolded...she couldn’t be much older than Morgan, but the difference in time period was clear. Mary Jane sounded more like her mother than her equal. “We are very fine company to have, lest you rather be alone for eternity.”

  “I might,” Morgan grumbled. Becky and I were both stifling giggles at the exchange. In truth it had been more difficult than we'd expected to move her and neither of us had any idea if we could put her back in the forest if she wanted to leave. “No, I don’t want to be alone for eternity,” she admitted begrudgingly.

  “Well, that’s certainly good to hear,” Becky said with relief. “I know this isn’t easy for anyone, but I’m sure you will all adjust soon enough.”

  “I am certain that we shall,” Colonel Augustus said with an affirmative nod. “It is a new frontier for us all, with many lessons to be learned and adjustments to be had.”

  “I am sorry about everything,” I said. I didn’t know how Morgan had been able to come to terms with her new ‘life’ as a ghost. She hadn’t even seemed bothered by the fact that she had died.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she shrugged. “Really, it’s fine here. I like Mary and Auggie.” The Colonel made a low groan at the nickname Morgan had given him. I was sure in his time something like that would be reserved for family only. I was even more sure that he hated the nickname regardless of who said it.

  “We have to be going,” Becky said somewhat reluctantly. She had been nervous about how well Morgan was doing with being a ghost and expected her to have some kind of meltdown about it soon. I trusted her as her powers of sensing other’s emotions was growing stronger every day. I thought she might be on to something.

  “We’ll be back soon though,” I promised. I wanted to avoid the meltdown if at all possible, and I figured that spending even a bit of time with people from the twenty first century might help.

  Chapter Two

  MOODY GREETED US HAPPILY as soon as we arrived at Hazel’s. Normally cats wouldn’t be a welcome visitor at a diner, but she had become something of a town staple. No one seemed to mind her presence there, in fact, tourists seemed to love her. Moody loved the tourists too. She had become a very fat cat from all the leftovers the patrons gave her. She was also becoming a bit of an egomaniac from all the attention she was getting. The only downside was that she had to bite her tongue. Not many people would react well to a talking cat, and it would bring just a bit too much unwanted attention. In lieu of a spoken greeting she wound herself around our legs purring in contentment. This earned her a few ‘awe’s’ from the onlooking patrons.

  “Hi, Moody,” Becky said with a soft smile for the cat. She bent down to scratch her back. Moody purred and arched her back in contentment.

  “Hey fat cat,” I said with a smirk, knowing that the feline would have a few comments to make about my own waistline once we got home. Judging by the look she gave me, I’d get a bit of an earful once she could talk in private. In a move to keep the piece I leaned over and gave her a quick scratch behind the ear. This made her purr despite herself, as I knew it would.

  “Hello girls,” Hazel said cheerily as she came out of the kitchen. “Fern is in the booth at the back.” She gestured to the table with the tray she held in her hand.

  “Thanks Hazel,” I smiled. Becky only nodded at Hazel which was about as cold as Becky ever got. I noted the moment to ask her about it later, though I suspected I already knew what the matter was. Becky had grown up without knowing who her family was and had recently discovered that Hazel was her grandmother. She wanted to find her mother, but Hazel was more than reluctant to search for her. It was causing some tension between the two of them. “Can we trouble you for the usual?” I asked not wanting to overwhelm her, but I was also starving from running around the museum all day.

  “No trouble at all, but you might need to get yourselves a separate table,” She said with another nod in Fern’s direction. I nodded knowingly and made my way to Fern, Becky followed. Fern was sitting alone at the largest booth in the restaurant, and she was taking up the entire table on her own. She had files and papers strewn across it but was working from her laptop. There was more paperwork involved with being the sheriff than I had ever expected. I thought she had to do a lot when she was only a detective, but now in the wake of the chaos that the former sheriff left, she was nearly drowning in it.

  “Paging Sheriff Fern,” I said tapping on the front of her laptop. She jumped and looked up at us not having noticed that we'd sat down across from her.

  “Sorry, hi,” she said sighing in relief after her moment of fright. “I was just working on some paperwork.”

  “You don’t say,” Becky said with a laugh. “Have you eaten?” She asked, concern creeping into her voice. Fern had been busier than ever before, and it was taking a bit of a toll on her.

  “Not yet,” Fern admitted. Moody jumped into her lap and then onto the table. She gave Fern a look before pushing her body against her laptop to close it and then curling up on top of it. I nodded in approval, judging by how guilty Fern looked, she hadn’t eaten at all that day.

  “Good, we already ordered the usual for you,” I said leaning back. “Take a break,” I ordered as she tried to push a very stubborn cat off of her laptop.

  “Fine, you’re right,” she allowed. “I was looking into where your mother might be.” Becky leaned forward in interest.

  “Did you find anything?” She asked hopeful. She knew very little about her mother, only what Hazel had told her so far, which wasn’t very much. Essentially Becky only knew her name, Evelyn.

  “Not much yet,” Fern said, sorry that she had gotten Becky’s hopes up. “I still haven’t found any solid leads, but I want you to know that I am working on it.”

  “I know you are, and I’m sure you’ll do everything you can to help,” she said with a small smile. I could tell that she had gotten her hopes up more than intended and had been let down by the lack of news.

  “Here you go,” Hazel said in a slightly gruff voice. She waited while we hurriedly cleaned up the papers all over the table. I could tell that it was killing Fern that we were putting them away out of order, but we needed to be quick about it. Moody leapt into Fern’s lap once she moved her laptop off of the table. I had a sneaking suspicion that a large part of the reason why Moody had been spending so much time
at the diner was because she had been lonely at home. Even though she had complained about our ghostly guests while they were there, I think she missed them.

  “Fern said she is looking into where my mother might be,” Becky said with far more meaning behind her words than what was said. Hazel plopped our plates in front of us.

  “I heard,” Hazel said with pursed lips. “You know what my thoughts on the matter are.”

  “I still don’t understand why you don’t want to look for her,” Becky replied in a whisper. She clearly wanted to talk about it now but didn’t really care for the other people in the restaurant to hear it.

  “I have lived in the same house since before Evelyn was born. I’ve never left Stillwater for more than a handful of days at a time. If she wanted me to know where she was then she would have come home. I just don’t see the use of looking for someone who obviously doesn’t want to be found,” Hazel sighed. She softened looking at Becky. “Ultimately, it’s up to you though, dear. Evelyn is your mother, and I don’t blame you for wanting to find her.”

  “I wish you would tell me more about her,” Becky said, her voice barely a whisper now. “Maybe if I knew more then I wouldn’t be so desperate to find her.”

  “Her story isn’t mine to tell,” Hazel said with sadness. I could tell that it hurt her equally as much not helping Becky as it would if she tried to help her.

  “I understand,” Becky said with a heavy sigh, though I didn’t think she did at all.

  “I’ll see you all tonight for lessons?” Hazel asked, changing the subject. We all nodded enthusiastically.

  “Of course. We wouldn’t miss it,” I said with a smile. Hazel grinned and left the table. She had a couple of noisy tourists to deal with on the other side of the diner. “Do either of you know what the lesson will be tonight?”