Which Witchery Is That?

  Which Witchery Is That?

  Sam Cheever

  Electric Prose Publications

  Copyright © 2021 by Sam Cheever

  All rights reserved.

  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.

  Contents

  Stay in Touch

  An Ally Comes in Search of Aid

  1. Cursed to Wander Familiar Ground

  2. Another's Plight Will Keep Her Bound

  3. An Ally Come in Search of Aid

  4. A Bargain Not so Easily Made

  5. A Soul That’s Lost, A Frightened Plea

  6. The Spell Will Help the Blind to See

  7. A Hidey Hole, A Hidden Life

  8. The Lares Must See Through the Strife

  9. Friend or Foe, They Must Decide

  10. Beneath the Surface Doubt Resides

  11. Into a World of Terror Deep

  12. Our Lares Must Her Patience Keep

  13. Bugs Under Glass, Our Warriors Be

  14. Like Tasty Morsels, Beneath the Sea

  15. Beasties Rule the Placid Waters

  16. Our Heroes Much Like Fishy Fodder

  17. Into the Mythical Legend’s Lair

  18. The Pursuit of Knowledge Languishing There

  19. Alas a Friend Hath Come To Call

  20. The Coming Journey Unpleasant For All

  21. An Unworthy Plea From One Most Foul

  22. The Villain’s Complaint a Tainted Howl

  23. A Surprising Partner in the Fight

  24. An Awful Verdict, A Stunning Plight

  25. Into the Demon’s Fetid Nest

  26. A Deadlier Visit Than the Rest

  27. At Last, the Lares Finds Her Stride

  28. The Loss of Doubt, A Mother’s Pride

  Don’t Miss Out

  Also by Sam Cheever

  About the Author

  Praise for Sam Cheever

  “You have that essential Je ne sais quoi that it takes to tell a story so mesmerizing you cannot stop reading once started. You are not telling stories to your readers…you are taking them with you on your adventures so that the experience can be shared by all as it happens and not simply replayed like a memory on the page of a diary! You are indeed gifted and it is my pleasure to read your books!”

  Valerie Irwin

  Don’t ever let anyone tell you that getting on the wrong side of a curse is a small thing. Even when you think you’ve got a handle on them, those suckers have a way of jumping up and chewing on your nose before flinging you into the pits of Hell.

  * * *

  Have you ever heard of a Groundhog Day curse? Yeah, I hadn't either. Until somebody put one on a certain goth teenager, who means a lot to me. I'm determined to find the source of Wanda's curse and fix it. But the timetable for that becomes greatly accelerated when she goes missing, and I get a vision of her begging for help.

  * * *

  Not good. The curse has just gone from inconvenient to deadly.

  * * *

  Unfortunately, the path to saving Wanda is long, twisted, and fraught with challenges. Did I say challenges? Silly me. We only need to overcome an array of murderous sea monsters. A legendarily wicked crone. Corrupt, power-hungry witches and a cadre of deadly demons.

  Piece of cake, right?

  Sigh… I’ve only been on the job for a couple of months, and already I need a vacation.

  Stay in Touch

  Sam doesn't give away a lot of books. But she values her readers and, to show it, she's gifting you a copy of a fun book just for signing up for her newsletter!

  * * *

  SIGN UP HERE!

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  An Ally Comes in Search of Aid

  A curse to keep a child in thrall, the magic’s overarching pall, if darkness wins a historian’s heart, though goodness tries to do its part, the human soul will be at risk, the Lares must her fight persist.

  * * *

  Cursed to Wander Familiar Ground,

  Another's Plight Will Keep Her Bound,

  An Ally Comes in Search of Aid,

  A Bargain Not so Easily Made,

  A Soul That’s Lost, A Frightened Plea,

  The Spell will Help the Blind to See,

  A Hidey Hole, A Hidden Life,

  The Lares Must See Through the Strife,

  Friend or Foe, They Must Decide,

  Beneath the Surface Doubt Resides,

  Into a World of Terror Deep,

  Our Lares Must Her Patience Keep,

  Bugs Under Glass, Our Warriors Be,

  Like Tasty Morsels, Beneath the Sea,

  Beasties Rule the Placid Waters,

  Our Heroes Much Like Fishy Fodder,

  Into the Mythical Legend’s Lair,

  The Pursuit of Knowledge Languishing There,

  Alas, a Friend Hath Come To Call,

  The Coming Journey Unpleasant For All,

  An Unworthy Plea From One Most Foul,

  The Villain’s Complaint a Tainted Howl,

  A Surprising Partner in the Fight,

  An Awful Verdict, A Stunning Plight,

  Into the Demon’s Fetid Nest,

  A Deadlier Visit Than the Rest,

  At Last, the Lares Finds Her Stride,

  The Loss of Doubt, A Mother’s Pride.

  1

  Cursed to Wander Familiar Ground

  A slender crescent moon hung high overhead, its silver glow painting the boards beneath my feet. Behind me, my dog explored a massive cobweb in the corner of the belfry, his tail wagging with interest.

  I leaned against the wide sill of the open archway overlooking my backyard. Far below me, appearing even more spectral than usual, the ghostly Reverend Dodson moved through the tombstones, looking peaceful and content.

  A rhythmic pounding sounded from the house below. Trish and Luke had been working long hours every day for a week trying to get all my beautiful windows reinstalled after the emergence of a demonic vortex shattered them. It had taken almost a month to get the glass, with its unique size and shape, and I was sick of having a dark and gloomy house from being boarded up.

  The thought brought on a shudder, as I remembered the vortex. If I never saw another demon, it would be too soon.

  A cold nose touched the back of my ankle, Monty's way of letting me know he was there. I looked down and smiled at my black and tan, longhaired dachshund. Like the good reverend, Monty was a happy soul, his doggy enthusiasm a bright spot in even the darkest day. "Did you get that mean old spider?" I asked my little hero.

  He grinned back at me, his small body wagging happily. Spider web silk hung from one floppy ear and covered his left eye like a pirate's patch. I reached down and wiped it off. "You might not have caught the spider," I told him. "But you definitely caught its house."

  A soft chirp brought my gaze up to the bat in my belfry. The yellow eyes were inexplicably locked on me. "Yes, Your Chirpiness?"

  The bat hung there, wings tidily folded and tiny claws clinging to a narrow piece of wood that ran from the peak of the bell tower to the top of the wall. We stared at each other until I gave in and shook my head. "I know you talk. You've spoken to me before. Why are you being so stubborn?"

  The last few nights, I'd been climbing the narrow staircase and having my pre-bedtime glass of wine up there with Monty. He enjoyed snuffling around. I enjoyed looking out over the moon-painted yard, and I'd been trying to get the bat to talk to me. She apparently communicated with Wanda, the youngest member of my council, all the time. The belfry was the teen's favorite sp
ot in my house. She and Bathilda, or Batty as I liked to call her, had spent a lot of hours since I'd moved into the church, chatting about things that neither of them shared with me.

  There was another reason why I'd been spending the last half hour of my day in the belfry. It was a reason I was reluctant to admit even to myself.

  I was looking for something.

  It was something that I'd caught out of the corner of my eye several days earlier. But I hadn't seen it again. And I was starting to think the sighting had just been the result of wishful thinking on my part.

  I sipped my wine and looked back up at Bathilda. "What's going through the kid's head?" I asked. "I know she tells you. I just want to help." There’d been a new sadness in Wanda’s gaze lately. She’d been lacking her usual perpetual confidence, to the point that she seemed unwilling to offer an opinion or even draw attention to herself.

  It was worrying me.

  The tiny bat spread its wings as if stretching and then refolded them, blinking slowly in my direction.

  Nothing.

  Curse, curse, dang bat.

  With a long-suffering sigh, I turned my attention back to the yard, taking another sip of my wine. Despite my frustration with the magical flying rodent, I was relaxed and happy. Life was falling into a comfortable rhythm. I was starting to get the hang of my new career as a guardian for the town of Rome, Indiana. And the moment in time I was currently living was filled with magic and promise.

  Down below, the world had soft edges and a pale haze that made it look enchanted. On the furthest edges of that world, something moved through the shadows, just beyond the moonlight's reach.

  My gaze whipped in that direction and held. My breathing turned shallow. The shadows stilled, nothing moving within them. Just when I was ready to give up and go downstairs, I saw it again.

  A flash of white, gleaming through the trees.

  The soft sound of wings above my head didn't even tempt me to look. I kept my gaze locked on that spot between the trees, far at the back of my property. My pulse picked up. My heart beat hopefully against my ribs. "Come on," I whispered.

  In my peripheral vision, I watched Bathilda flutter out into the night, darting and dipping as she munched mosquitoes and, presumably, other flying bugs.

  Moments later, when my eyes were starting to sting from my unrelenting focus on that spot, I saw it again. A gleaming white form, moving through the trees.

  I smiled. "There you are, beautiful. Come out and let me feast my eyes on you." As if she'd heard my words, the enormous, elegant creature stepped into the moonlight.

  Tears burned my eyes. Tears of relief and happiness. "Hello, there, beauty," I breathed.

  The ethereally stunning white horse tossed its head, its thick mane dancing silkily around its elegant head. We stared at each other across the distance for several moments. I was afraid to move or look away for fear she would disappear.

  Finally, with another toss of her head and a flash of her bright green gaze, the white horse spun around and galloped into the night.

  Trish and Luke were standing in my kitchen drinking large glasses of water when Monty and I came down from the belfry. Trish smiled at my happy little warrior when he ran over to greet her. "Hello, my man. Did you give that nasty bat the business?"

  I laughed. "He killed the heck out of a spider web."

  "Good boy!" she cooed, laughing when his entire body wagged. When she straightened, Trish reached out and brushed her hand down my shoulder-length straight black hair, which I’d tipped in silver on a whim when I’d turned forty. “Looks like Monty’s not the only one who had a close encounter with a spider web.” She brushed her hand over her well-worn jeans to dispel the spider silk.

  Never wanting to leave anybody out, Monty bounced over and put his paws on Luke's dusty, jean-clad thighs, sniffing around his pocket. His friend, the wolf-shifter, patted Monty’s soft head. "Hey, little buddy," Luke said. "What’s so interesting about my pocket?”

  Monty’s fat feet hit the floor and he barked, his eyes alight.

  “Are you looking for this?” Luke asked, smiling. He pulled out a dog cookie and Monty leaped into the air, grinning a doggy grin.

  “You guys are spoiling him,” I said, trying to look unhappy about it. I couldn’t pull it off. Monty carefully took his treat from Luke’s big, square fingers and hurried to his favorite spot underneath the kitchen table to savor it.

  “Sorry, not sorry,” Luke said in his deep, slow drawl. “His goofy excitement is too hard to resist.”

  Shaking my head, I said. “Do you guys want a beer before you hit the road?”

  “I shouldn’t,” Trish said, at the same time Luke said, “Sure.”

  I arched a brow at Trish, and she laughed. “Sure. Just one. It’s late.”

  I got them each a beer and refilled my wine glass halfway.

  “How are things in the queendom,” Luke asked, a teasing light in his golden-brown eyes.

  “Huh?” I asked, dropping into a chair at the table.

  “Weren’t you up there surveying your queendom?”

  I laughed. “I’m trying to shame that curse swear bat into talking.”

  Trish sat down across from me. “You really think it talks?”

  “Wanda claims she talks to it. Plus, I’ve heard a voice in my head a few times that had to have come from her.”

  “From Wanda?” Luke asked, looking confused.

  “No. Bathilda.”

  He nodded.

  “That bat is here for a reason,” I told them. “But I have no idea what that reason is.”

  “No words of wisdom from the flying rodent tonight, huh?” Trish asked.

  “Not a peep. A few chirps, but no peeps. All it did was stare at me with those creepy eyes and then fly off to munch bugs.”

  We sat in silence for a moment, then I broached the question I’d wanted Bathilda to answer. “How much do you guys know about Wanda? I mean, outside of council business?”

  Trish spun her beer bottle on the table, looking thoughtful.

  Luke threw his empty into the trash. “I’ve never seen or spoken to her outside of council business.”

  “Really? But you sometimes arrive with her. I just assumed maybe you picked her up somewhere.”

  “No,” Trish said, frowning. “I’ve offered to give her a ride a few times, but she just shrugs and changes the subject.” She looked up, catching my gaze. “I’m worried about her, Aggy.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Me too. We need to get that curse off her. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about that. How soon do you think the shop will be ready for business?”

  Her eyes went wide. “Business? I don’t think…”

  “Not candle-selling business. I just need it good enough to have meetings in.”

  “Oh. Well. Luke and I got the last window replaced in there tonight. The floors are done, and the painting needs just one more coat. We’re going to finish the trim work tomorrow. I suppose you could have meetings in there by the end of the week, but it will still stink like paint. Why? What do you have in mind?”

  I sipped wine, my foot stroking Monty’s silky fur under the table. “I’d like to host coven meetings here. If it’s okay with the coven.”

  Trish didn’t even try to hide her surprise. “We’d have to vote on it. But I don’t know why anybody would mind. This would be a much better spot than where we’ve been holding them.”

  “Where are you holding meetings now?” Luke asked. He was leaning against the counter, arms and ankles crossed. He looked relaxed and comfortable, a sight I hadn’t seen much of since he’d become part of my council. Granted, none of us had enjoyed a lot of relaxation time since I’d moved into the church.

  My seating had been a wild, dangerous, and unpredictable time. And our last adventure…if I could call it that…had been a hair past terrifying.

  “In Wilhelmina’s basement,” Trish said, grimacing. “It smells like feet and dirty jockstraps down there.”

&nb
sp; I grimaced. “Jockstraps?”

  “She has twin seventeen-year-old boys. They’re animals.”

  “I resent that characterization,” said the wolf.

  Trish shook her head. “I’ll call a meeting for this week and let you know what we decide.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “And thank you for working so hard to finish the shop. I really appreciate it.” I frowned, thinking about my dwindling construction budget. I was almost out of money, and my bedroom and bath weren’t done. Not to mention, we’d decided I needed to add a second, small bathroom in the shop, so I didn’t have customers using mine.

  “I know that look,” Trish said. “Stop worrying about the money. It’s going to work out.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment,” I told her. “But you can’t keep donating your labor. It’s not fair to you.”

  “I trust you to make good on it. Later.”

  “Isn’t there some kind of salary attached to this Lares gig?” Luke asked.

  I’d wondered the same thing. In fact, I’d put a stickie note on my bathroom mirror telling me to call my dad and ask him. I’d learned when going through my seating that my father was also serving a community as its Lares, a fact that explained a lot about my mostly fatherless teenage years. Ancient history and hurt childhood feelings aside, Andrew Lenore was an experienced Lares. He’d know if there was any kind of payment for the job and, if so, how I got it set up. I was hoping there were enough funds available to at least cover expenses.