AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then came the silence. Not the incredible lack of sound we all wish for when lying in bed, blissfully drifting away to Sleepytown. Or the one where it means I have finally won a battle in the ongoing war with my Familiar. Oh, hell, no. This was a bottomless, dark pit of nothingness that I knew was the preamble to one of my worst nightmares – maybe the worst one in all my years.
Forcing myself to breathe normally and not move a muscle, I waited. Ginger was close – closer than I liked. The sneaky little crumb-faced crusader was so very close that her Magic was rubbing up against mine with such ferocity I feared there would be sparks. What would I do if my blankets – the ones my Aunties and Grannies had made for me over the centuries – went up in flames?
I would kill her. That's what I would do, and I would strut into TGGH with my head held high and dare any Witch to look at me sideways.
“Lucy.”
She was using her talk-a-kitten-out-of-a-tree voice. That was bad. That was very bad. She only used that tone when she was sure she could win.
Counting the ticks of the grandfather clock mere steps outside my bedroom door, I made it to five before….
“Lucy.”
She was back to sing-songing. When the whole debacle was over, I completely and totally planned on asking when she addedthat toneto her repertoire. I had no doubt it would be vital information for years to come. No, I was never a Girl Scout. I was close but never put on the sash. However, I still had to be prepared.
Refusing to respond because it would lead to a long conversation and some worse catastrophe that might lead to the demise of the wonder that was the Brown Family Coven Founding Day - (Aren't you glad I abbreviated the title?) -both of which I was neither prepared for nor wanted to have in the wee hours of the morning, as I have explained ad nauseum, I pushed my left ear farther into the pillow and prayed. Apparently, the Great Goddess was busy with more pressing requests at that precise moment because She did not answer or even send a signal, and the very forced and thunderous whisper of none other than Ginger Bridgette McCrocker, the most annoying Familiar to ever Magic her booty across the great Earth not only whooshed deeply into my ears, but also slashed through my weary mind.
“Don’t make me do it, Lucy. I know you can hear me. Hell, I’m pretty sure your Momma heard me all the way over on the Isle of Skye.”
I paused. Had my mother really been able to hear Ginger? Had the spicy little pain in the neck put enoughbeep de bop-bop beepin herbop bo-dope skeetleto reach the only person on the whole blue and green ball we called Earth who actually struck fear in my heart- none other than Miranda Mae Brown, the Brown Witch of Winter?
No. There was no way. Ginger was just messing with me because it was her favorite pastime. Everybody – and I meanev-ery-body– knew Mom was hanging out with Cailleach Bheur, the Celtic Goddess of Winter, the Goddess' Mate – a Dragon Guardsman named Jude, and her sister, Jessica Kringle-Claus, way far away in the North Pole. (Yes. That's Mrs. Claus to you, me, and everyone else.)
And, if I may digress again for a moment, did it seem like everybody who was anybody was Mated to a Dragon Guardsman? Was that a recent development, or had I lived under a rock for all my years and missed the fact that the Universe was mixing it up when creating Mates for her Winged Warriors? I really had to call one or all of the Aunties and find out what changed and what I did to put my very roundedbadonkadonkin the way of that wave of lovey-doveyness. Then again, it might have been one or all of The Powers That Be's grand plans. They were always up to something. When I had a few minutes, maybe in April or May, I would have to chat with someone way more intelligent and in the know than I.
Okay, back to your regularly scheduled story….
From the day after Thanksgiving until the stroke of midnight on January twenty-fifth, Mom was up in the Great White North helping make sure snow fell where snow was supposed to fall, the wind blew where the wind was supposed to blow, and everything was ready for Jolly Old St. Nick's yearly toy-giving journey, the ball to drop on New Year's Eve, and the Brown Family Coven Founding Day. It was all part and parcel of her gig as the Brown Witch of Winter. Yes, she had a more prestigious title with loads more words and pomp and circumstance, but I was tired. And hell, all of us Brown Witches had long-ass titles. Look at mine. It was an honor bestowed upon us when the original Brown Witches were breathed into existence and given the Honor of being Good Witches.
I really have never gotten a straight answer on why the Mighty Ones chose to 'make' Witches for these jobs, but more about in another story after the party.
Suffice it to say, I had chosen to use shortened titles for all of us whenever I could, and as far as I was concerned, dear old mom's moniker was Witch of Winter, and that was that. She came to terms with it when I was a little Witchy-poo, which made me and my vocal cords very happy.
Oh! And while I’m at it. I was not ‘scared’ of my mom - like scared she would do something terrible to me. Nope. That was not how Brown Witches rolled, especially my mom. Miranda Brown was literally Mother of the Year on pretty much all counts.
She went to all my Spell Casting meets. She never missed a Dancing Around the Fire recital. And the Great Goddess knew she was in the front row screaming her lungs out at every single one of my Unicorn Dressage competitions. I was, however, freaked right out of my red leggings at the thought of her showing up and lecturing me about my love life – or lack thereof – then reminding me of Auntie Sorcha’s prediction regarding my future and handing me the latest copy of Sex and the Modern Witch.
You see, back to what I was saying about everybody finding their Mates and said Mates happening to be Dragons, my cousins – Molly, Ella, Vi, and Davie had all been united with their Mates. They were Dragon Guardsmen who just happened to be part of the Almighty and Legendary Archer Clan. As you might have already guessed, there's a story there, too, but it'll have to wait because I really have to get back to Ginger's manic machinations and be sure I make it till sunrise with all my digits. After all, how would I bake millions upon millions of dozens of cookies if I was minus a few fingers?
So, here we go….
There was no doubt the perfectly manicured nails - polished and decorated by Bernadette, the Bodacious Brown Witch of Beautification and Botanical Bewitchery with her own concoction of Holly Berry Red Icing nail polish -that topped the stubby, little gingerbread fingers of Ginger's left hand were hovering right over the outer ridge of my exposed ear. Not only could I feel the heat of her Magic revving up to zap me, but the scent of ginger, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, black pepper, and ground cloves was stronger than ever. It was so robust that it tickled my senses and was about fifteen seconds from making my tummy rumble.
(Sorry, I had forgotten my bedtime snack. I. Was. Hungry.)
Oh, yeah, the little she-Devil disguised as a completely alive, totally animated, absolutely adorable two-foot-high Gingerbread Woman was standing on my pillow, deciding if she could flick my ear like some deranged schoolmarm and get out of the room before I rolled over and trapped her under the pile of blankets I was currently snuggled beneath then held her captive until spring thaw.
Again, I say, welcome to my world.
It took all the control I could muster in my half-asleep-refusing-to-wake-all-the-way-up state of mind to keep every little, feathery hair covering my curvy, cookie-lovin' body from standing on end and calling in their cousins – the Goosebumps – to dance the bunny hop all over my flesh. But I was not giving in. It was the very last morning I could sleep past sunrise until January sixteenth, and no one – not even the Familiar I'd been saddled with since my ninth birthday - was going to ruin it for me.
(I know I’ve said all this before, but it bears repeating. So, I did.)
Why hadn't I worn the ski mask Auntie Esme knitted for me three Christmases ago for just such an occasion? Simple answer? Because I genuinely never thought Ginger the Grinch would resort to attacking my ears. It was as simple as that. She’d acted like Kevin in Hole Alone more times than I could count, but she'd never touched my ears. Had her brain finally turned to crumbs? Was she moldy in the medulla oblongata? Right after the Brown Family Coven Celebration, I would put in a call to Dr. Bombay. It was time for a Familiar physical check-up.
I would not open my eyes. Nope. No way. No how. I was not gonna do it. I was hunkered down. I’m sure I said that before, but in case I didn’t… Well, you know the drill.
She was not going to win. I would not let her win. I would…
