Strange Magick

By D. J. Anderson

In the small mountain town of Legerdemain, Colorado, weird doesnt even begin to describe things. Something or someone is making public buildings disappear, and no one in authority seems to have any idea why or how. Everyone in town has a theory, but Samantha Gillenwater and her Aunt Kat know the truth. The town was founded by her ancestors, so they have a better understanding of whats really happening. Truth is; their relatives in Legerdemain were different from the other settlers. They were witches who fled the horrors of the Salem witch trials in Massachusetts.

As the curious eyes of the town start looking deeper into the shadows for answers, Samantha and Kat need to work even harder to keep their familys secrets safe. In order to do that, they have to solve the mystery before anyone else does. The last thing they want is for the townspeople to have proof that magick is real and part of life in their small community.

They have a suspect. Matthew Douthitta black-arts warlockhas been the bane of Samanthas existence since she was a child. Now hes back, and more powerful than ever, to make her life miserable. Can Samantha figure out how to break his spells and save her beloved town, or will the dark arts consume everything and everyone she loves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Sep 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781480810570

D. J. Anderson

Debra J. Anderson grew up in Delta, Colorado; a town much like Legerdemain. Her adventures there inspired Strange Magick, Anderson’s first novel.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

T he three stood at each edge of the pentagram, candles were lit in each point casting a bright glow on the branches of the evergreen trees that hovered in a circle around the clearing.

Deep, thick blackness surrounded the trio and sucked in all the light like a black hole. No light penetrated from outside, encasing them in a thick, inky bubble.

In the middle of the trees, a tall, dark-haired man clad all in black chanted, his eyes closed and hands in front of him, palms up. His chant grew louder, he raised his arms higher. He gave a nod, and a spark ignited from his palms. He turned his hands down, releasing the flame, which hit the lower branches.

The flame traveled first in a circle and then crisscrossed, forming a pentagram within the circle that intensified and burned white hot along the circle and five pointed star. The earth cracked open under the flame, and the line blackened the ground inside the crevice.

The other two participants stepped into the pentagram, one on each side of him, within the points of the star. They picked up his chant, and he moved his arms upward and then to the side, touching fingertips with them. A blue flame traveled up from the lines and engulfed them. A line of fire from the pentagram moved up their bodies, into their arms, and then out of the fingertips of the two on either end, sending power out from the pentagram.

The line of fire shot from their extended fingers tips into the wood figures carved into the stumps of the ancient cottonwoods that ringed the small park. The tree trunks shimmered. The animals and people carved into them, all life size, glowed at the edge of the unnaturally dark square.

The chant became faster a bit louder, and the glow intensified as the candles’ flames burned higher, the wicks sputtered with the intensity. Arms raised, the assembly shouted the chant once more, imbuing power into the wood, to be released later. The glow intensified among the carvings. And as their words ended, the light faded as the power was absorbed into the wood. The candles continued to burn while the three walked from the circle of trees into the darkness.

54418.png

What in the heck is all of this? Samantha stood over the candles, and flour, spread over the ground under a stand of trees.

Try to keep a park clean and the kids always come in and mess it up, Mickey said, rubbing his blond hair out of his eyes. He opened the trash bag and reached down to start picking things up.

No, this isn’t kids, Samantha said, picking up one of the black candles and handing it to Mickey. This is black magick.

Mickey dropped the black candle quickly into the bag, like it was hot, and pulled his hand away.

It’s not going to bite you. All the power is drained, she said, kneeling to get a closer look at the cracked and scorched earth. Why didn’t anyone see anything? This many candles would’ve been really bright, and the Hell Fire that formed the pentagram scorched the trees. Look, she said, reaching up to pull a tree branch closer.

No one’s said anything. Kind of weird. So who do you suppose did this? Mickey said, pulling another trash bag from the box.

I don’t know. Aunt Kat would’ve called me, since she lives right across the street. She would have seen it, since she stays up late. I’ll have to check with her, but I’m sure she would have at least called Jesse, Samantha said, holding a candle and trying to pick up a vision or anything that would give them an answer.

Mickey waited, knowing she was working her own magick by tapping into her power to hold an object and glean information from it. Anything? He whispered quietly.

Nothing. They made sure that the spell would erase the residual power. She sighed and dropped the spent candle into a trash bag.

So, what would this spell be for?

I don’t know yet. So many spells rely on candles and a pentagram. The thing that makes the difference is the words you use.

They could’ve cleaned up after themselves, Mickey grumbled.

Whoever it was wanted us to find this.

Why?

They want us to know that something’s up. Now I’m worried. This was a major spell to draw a lot of power. They left the candles to burn down instead of extinguishing them; that keeps the spell going until the power is released.

Mickey flinched. If anyone knew her magick, it was Samantha, and the fact that she was worried made him uneasy. He wasn’t nearly as proficient in witchcraft as she was. They had been friends a long time. While she had been studying every day after school and reading every spell book and Grimoire she could get her hands on, Mickey had been playing football, going to beer keg parties in the nearby adobe hills, and generally wasting time.

Now he regretted that youthful decision, and he and Samantha’s other best friend, Carrie, now his wife, both were playing catch up by reading every chance they got and spending as much time with Samantha and her Aunt Katherine as possible.

Great, Mickey said flatly. So what do we do about it?

Nothing we can do right now. Until I know what’s going on, we’re in the dark.

A police car pulled into the parking lot, and a tall, lanky, blond officer got out and strode toward them.

Uh oh, Mickey, what did you do now?" Samantha asked, grinning at him.

"Funny. Besides, it’s Jessie, and he’s probably here for you anyway. So what did you do?"

Samantha just laughed. Jessie was her cousin and the last person she ever thought would become a cop. He had gotten into all kinds of trouble as a kid, from joyriding, to tipping cows, to streaking the at the football games. Nothing compared to what the kids Jessie now dealt with were getting into.

Hey! He greeted them, as he crossed the thick, green grass.

Hi, Jessie! Samantha replied and set down the trash bag as he came to stand beside her.

He surveyed the mess. Did you have a power outage here last night?

Not that we know of. Why?

I drove by when before my shift was over at ten last night and every light in this park was dark.

Really? You didn’t see any candles glowing up here either? Samantha asked, confused.

No. It was pitch black. Darker than dark. That’s why I’m stopping now. I thought maybe you needed to call in the guys to fix the power.

I’ll go switch them on and see if they work. Then if they don’t, guess maybe we better have them checked, Mickey said, looking up at the halogen lights in each corner of the park. Be right back.

Mickey jogged across the park to the electrical panel on the back of the small shop, unlocked it, and flipped the switches. Even in the bright sunlight, the golden color of the halogen lights reflected in the panel’s aluminum cover.

Huh, Jessie muttered, guess they work.

Mickey flipped the switch back down, and the glow disappeared from the aluminum cover, leaving it a dull gray. He locked the panel and walked back to stand by Samantha.

She thought about this new development for a moment. No one called the police about anything odd last night?

I didn’t get a call, Jessie replied. I checked reports this morning from other officers. No one reported anything. No power outages in town, either. Looks like someone did a big ritual up here, though, he said, eyeing the remnants Mickey and Samantha were cleaning up. So what do you think?

I don’t know what it was for. It’s a black magick spell, though.

Jessie looked alarmed. Really? Wow! Should I be on the lookout for something?

Anything else unusual happen last night? Samantha asked.

I didn’t notice anything outside of the park being black. But now that you mentioned all these candles, I should’ve seen them.

Unless that’s what they were hiding, Mickey said.

Mickey! That’s very perceptive of you, Jessie said, laughing.

I have my moments of clarity, he smirked.

Wow! Two in a row! Jessie remarked. Care to try for three?

Nah, that’s enough for one day. I might burn out my tiny brain.

I’ll go back through the reports and see if anyone called in anything else unusual anywhere in town. If I find anything, I’ll give you a call, Jessie said.

Thanks, Jessie, Samantha replied.

Sure. Later, Mick! See you, Sam!

Bye, Jessie! Samantha watched him go back to his patrol car and drive out of the parking lot.

I’m afraid to ask what you are thinking, Mickey said.

I’m trying not to. Well, let’s get this cleaned up, she said, grabbing another trash bag from Mickey’s back pocket, where it hung like a long, plastic handkerchief.

She began picking up candles and smearing the flour formed pentagram into the dirt. Mickey followed her lead and threw the candles in the bag as quickly as possible.

We’ve got a lot of other stuff to do. We have to clean the park, the sprinklers aren’t fixed, and the restrooms aren’t painted. Not to mention that the toilet paper wads on the ceiling haven’t been removed yet. It’s almost noon, and Joel Swiger will be here tomorrow, Samantha reminded Mickey.How are we going to do all this before then?We’re going to have to send Andy back to the shop for lunch. We’ll get back to work on this stuff while he’s gone so he won’t see us using magick. He doesn’t need to know about the fairies, either. When he gets back, we’ll go to lunch.

Okay. But I’m not sure how to fix this pipe using magick, Mickey said, worried.

Well, fix it the old fashioned way—glue it. Then call out the fairies and have them magick it so it won’t bust again.

Won’t Andy suspect something? I mean, all this work, and suddenly it’s done?

Nah, he’s new. He doesn’t know all the stuff we have to do yet.

Mickey rose from his kneeling position next to the hole where he was fixing a leaky PVC sprinkler pipe and sprinted off toward a young blond man who was emptying the last trash bin in the park, near where the city trucks were parked.

Hey, Andy? Go on back to the shop for lunch and Samantha and I will eat lunch later. I’m not done fixing this pipe and if I leave it now the glue will be all messed up.

Andy nodded and waved, crawled in one of the trucks and left.

Okay, you finish fixing the pipe and I’ll take care of the cleaning and painting in the restroom.

You got it! He knelt by the pipe again as she sprinted to the truck and grabbed a can of white paint and a can opener.

She hurried into the ladies side of the restroom threw open the door to stalls to make sure no one was inside.

She placed the can in the middle of the floor, opened it and tossed the lid in the trash.

Raising her arms, she began a slow spin in a clockwise motion and chanted:

"North, south, east, and west.

Wind that blows from all is best.

Clean and sweep, paint on ceiling, stalls and wall,

hear my bidding, and heed the call."

Samantha stepped out closing the door behind her, waited a moment and then peeked in to make sure the spell was working correctly.

She had used it once before but had changed the wording since the last time paint had been on the sink, toilets and the floor. She had added wall, ceiling and stall to specify where she wanted the paint.

A swirl of wind began in the room pulling dust from the corners and dried toilet paper wads from the ceiling. It spun the debris into the trash as it pulled the paint from the can and swirled into a small white tornado which spread the paint evenly over the ceiling, walls, and stall doors, leaving the paper dispensers, mirror, sink and toilets unpainted.

She touched the new paint job and it had already dried, thanks to the spell.

She opened the door, retrieved the can and approved the job.

Thank you, she said to the elements.

When she emerged from the restroom, there was a car parked in the lot and she could see a family at the far edge of the park walking around admiring the tree carvings.

She threw the empty paint can in the bed of the pickup truck with the rest of the trash for the day and walked back to where Mickey sat waiting for her.

Are you done yet?

Yes I got the pipe glued but I didn’t call the fairies out because of those folks, Mickey said pointing across the park at a family wandering around. I’m thinking the faeries aren’t going to want to come out in this heat anyway.

You can’t sit there all day and guard that hole.

I know. If you’ll guard the hole for a minute, I’ll go get a board and some orange cones and section it off.

Fine with me, she said.

Samantha turned to where a family was walking around looking at the tree carvings and talking excitedly.

She loved the carvings; her favorite was the full size mountain lion, which oddly enough seemed to be moving. She could’ve sworn she saw the paw move forward just an inch or two and the mouth open and close.

The dry summer heat of Colorado had never bothered her before, but may be today was different. Her brain was being slowly fried or maybe she was dehydrated and needed water. Either way, she had to be hallucinating.

Mickey returned with the cones and a board and laid it over the open hole.

What is it? he asked noticing as she watched the family.

Something weird, she replied. I’ll be right back.

Walking closer, although not close enough for the family to notice her, she looked closely at the carving of the lion. She didn’t see any movement now. Very strange, although strange was the operative word around here.

In a town where almost half of the population had magick powers to some degree or another, the unusual was usual.

Unfortunately, it seemed to fall to her to be the witchcraft cop, to remind those with power not to let the other half of the town know that they were different, that witches were real and lived in their midst. Or rather, they lived in the midst of witches since Legerdemain had been founded by witches that had slowly moved west to escape persecution even after the Salem Witch Trials.

She and her Aunt Katherine, who forever had been known as Kat, were always the ones called to fix it when something went awry. She counted on Aunt Kat, the holder of all the wisdom, tons of memorized spells and a private library of witchcraft history, Grimoires and Books of Shadows to help her keep things in check.

Now she feared something was happening again and was afraid she knew the answer to the questions of the candles and pentagram.

That was what the black magick spell was for, to make the animal carvings move. But why?

She decided to not to approach the family, hopefully they would be on their way and would tell tales of the moving carvings, but not even give it a second thought in an age of animatronics and computer graphics.

Then the detective work would begin, finding out who had put the spell on the carvings. She would be able to tell in an instant, magick, whether black or white always left a signature, a trail of energy, a residue. Sometimes it was the young witches, trying out spells and powers that proved to be out of their control. Other times it was friends of hers playing practical jokes on her but they would never let it become dangerous or public.

This was more than that, and now it explained the pentagram of candles they had found in the trees.

The family began to walk toward the large, roofed, shaded open pavilion where two rows of picnic tables ran down either side of a huge cement slab.

She watched as they pulled an insulated cooler and a box of other food from the back of the van and carried them to a picnic table. They began to spread the food over the table and she smiled as the kids grabbed for sodas and then bread to make sandwiches.

Taking a breath, she walked over to the carving of the little cowboy on the stick horse.. It was now static again, she walked around it, sliding her hand over the natural part of the bottom of the tree and then as high as she could reach into the carving. There was a definite feel of magick that had worked and it had that sharp edge of black magick. The tingle of the residual magick was like static electricity, a mild shock when she touched it. The magick was done now, the energy spent and she wished she had been closer to see exactly what it had wrought.

She walked to the next carving, a small boy with a stick horse and again could again feel the residual energy of the black magick.

Samantha made her way around to the other carvings, the totem pole, the tree of raccoons, and finally the eagles that were closest to the pavilion at the front of the park.. All showed signs of the magick and the mystery deepened and so did her concern.

A loud Hello! from the picnic table broke her reverie and she glanced over at the family that was now packing up their picnic. The older man of the family was waving her over to the table.

Samantha really hadn’t wanted to talk to them, but now that they were right there and had obviously noticed her green park employee tee shirt, there was no way she could avoid it now.

She wandered over to the table and he extended his hand. Hello! He repeated.

I’m George McPhee.

Samantha Gillenwater, she replied, taking his hand. It was cool to the touch and he didn’t have a very hard grip. Her hands were rough from working outside all the time and she was just a little embarrassed about it.

Nice grip! He commented. You must do a lot of hard work.

Well, I do love the outdoors. And this job. she added.

I wanted to thank you for the wonderful job you obviously do here. The lawn is immaculate, the restrooms are so clean and those tree sculptures that move and talk are phenomenal, he said still holding her hand and pumping it excitedly.

She tried to hide her shock at his last revelation, and finally managed to stammer, Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed them. And everything else!

So how do they work? Are they motion activated? George asked.

Um…Yes, yes they are. Samantha stammered as she thought how nice it was he came up with his own explanation. The park gets a lot of use here and we try to make things special, she said truthfully. But nothing this special, she thought. I work for Parks and Recreation in Chicago. I’d love to know your secrets. I have an employee that had grandparents that lived here. When he found out where we were going for vacation, he told me to stop here. I think he needs a vacation to check this place out!

Really? That would be great! What’s his name?

Swiger. Joel Swiger.

The name shocked Samantha. Joel Swiger was one of the founders of Legerdemain and it had to be his great, great grandson!

It was too much of a coincidence! Now it all made sense! The black magick in the park, meeting George and now finding out his employee was Joel Swiger!

Something was going on!

Somehow, someone wanted Joel Swiger here and they had figured out a way to get him to come without arousing suspicion.

Oh sure! The Swigers are founders of this town, she finally responded.

I’ll get the trip approved as soon as we get back! He has been wanting to visit.

That would be great! I’d love to meet him. Samantha exclaimed and wondered what he was like. She really did want to meet him, but now a talk with Aunt Kat was in order.

Nice to meet you, George! Enjoy your stay! She waved as she walked away.

Nice to meet you! George called after her.

Samantha made a beeline for Mickey.

Did you notice anything strange about the wood carvings?

No, should I?

That family was really impressed with the way they were moving.

They don’t move. They are chainsaw carvings. Mickey reprocessed the information. Oh! They were moving?

Samantha nodded. Now we know what the spell was for?

They aren’t local are they?

No, and just beyond coincidence is the fact that George, is a park supervisor in Chicago. Guess who one of his employees is?

Santa Clause? How should I know?

Mickey you really need to brush up on your town history! What founding family’s sons left for Chicago?

His blank stare told her he still didn’t know.

Joel Swiger! She exclaimed.

Joel Swiger? He was one of the town founders right? But he’s dead.

So is your brain! Not that Joel Swiger, this one is alive and is his great, great grandson!

Holy moly! What do you think this all means?

I don’t know but I’m sure we are going to find out. I would like to head whatever this is off before it starts.

I think you’re being paranoid, Mickey snorted.

Maybe, but my little voice is telling me different. Anytime I don’t listen, things go very wrong and I don’t like the feeling I’ve gotten all day.

Samantha hurried across the street from the park to her Aunt Kat’s house. The original house had been built in 1900 by great, great Grandfather Gillenwater and kept in the family all these years.

He had also helped establish the park and it was a source of family pride. A Gillenwater had worked in the parks department of Legerdemain ever since.

Next in line for the house amongst the Gillenwaters was Samantha’s older brother, Darrin, who like her had been named for characters in her Mother’s favorite show, Bewitched.

But, Darrin had been living in Denver for fifteen years, married and had one daughter and like the Swiger boys in 1893, had not wanted any part of the hereditary witchcraft.

Samantha felt betrayed and they hadn’t spoken for years and while he had disowned learning the Craft, she had embraced it wholeheartedly and now had almost surpassed Aunt Kat with her knowledge. She relied heavily on Aunt Kat’s wisdom and knowledge to problem solve and now was just such a time.

She walked up to the front door, knocked quickly and opened the door.

Aunt Kat? she yelled as she wandered in.

In the kitchen! Came the reply as she walked though the living room and into the kitchen where Katherine stood at the stove stirring something a huge soup pot.

Soup I presume? Samantha asked pulling out one of the chairs from the table and dropping into it. Isn’t it a little too hot for soup.

It’s never too hot outside for vegetable soup. You eat other hot food in the summer don’t you?

Yes, I guess. I just always think of soup as a winter food.

It’s ready. Are you hungry?

Samantha laughed. Aunt Kat always had food around and was always cooking.

She made way more than what she could use and would often feed some of her elderly neighbors and anyone else who happened to stray too close.

As a result, she was a bit overweight and had recently begun a walking regimen to try and lose some of the pounds.

You didn’t notice anything strange across the street last night did you?

No, but then I don’t really look over at the park very often. Why? What happened? she asked laying the ladle aside and opening a cupboard door.

Mickey and I cleaned up black candles and stuff from a spell. Had the Black written all over it and the spell was to animate those wood carvings for a short time right in front of some tourists.

Aunt Kat lost her grip nearly dropping the soup bowls she was pulling from the cupboard.

She was shaking a bit and rattled the bowls as she set them down on the counter.

Do you know who did it?

No, not a clue. All traces of who cast it were already gone but I could still feel the Black Magick.

Oh dear, tell me where it was, Aunt Kat said.

Up in that circle of trees at the top of the park.

"There’s an energy vortex up there. They