Moonlight and Mischief: Hallo-Tween, #2

By Chynna Pace

TUESDAY SKULLCAP, YOUR FAVORITE TWEEN WITCH, IS AT IT AGAIN! MISCHIEF ABOUNDS IN THIS SEQUEL TO GRAVEYARDS AND GHOULIES.

 

Tuesday's biggest school fears used to be the gruesome pop quizzes her math teacher loves to dole out. But when Isabella Fairchild, the school's new English teacher, shows up, Tuesday's school worries take a plunge into the dark and magical. Miss Fairchild is a witch, but not just any witch. She's an evil one, determined to expose magic, and Tuesday's the only one who can stop her. But are things what they seem? Join Tuesday as she battles cursed cupcakes, freezes time, and investigates suspicious pumpkins in book 2 of the spooky Hallo-Tween series!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chynna Pace
• Release date: Oct 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215422748

Book preview

Chapter 1

Tuesday Skullcap woke up on a rainy Tuesday morning a whole hour and a half earlier than she normally would, but she wasn’t complaining.

Because she was about to get her first official magic lesson.

Tuesday was part of a long line of witches and warlocks, and even though she’d only found out about it four days ago, she’d already had a crazy magical adventure, battled an evil army of ghouls, and saved her Uncle Yarrow from losing his job, most of that in one whacky night.

And no, she hadn’t been congratulated and praised for her magical efforts when she told her family everything she accomplished. A small Well done, that was all she got, and then came the yelling. And the lecture. And the punishment.

See, Tuesday had done all that cool witchy stuff without actually, like, telling her mom, or her Aunt Comfrey, or her Uncle Yarrow, or anyone except her new friend and partner in crime, Orion, the supernatural investigator who’d helped her save the day.

So it was no surprise that her family was being extra strict about her magic lessons now. After all, she needed training, but what they felt she needed more than anything was supervised training.

In Tuesday’s opinion, that wa s one big SIGH. After all, she’d already done so much magic so far. Why did she need to be supervised?

Still, she wasn’t complaining. A lot of twelve-year-olds had to get up early before school. Her best friend Briana’s parents made her get up a whole two hours early to practice violin and piano. Tuesday was lucky. She was getting up early to learn magic. To practice spells, potions, and charms, oh my!

The thought of that whisked all traces of sleep from Tuesday’s body in a flash, making her shoot out of bed like she’d just downed a huge cup of coffee. An iced, triple-caramel mocha coffee, to be exact.

Nightshade, on the other hand, wasn’t as easily roused.

He made an annoyed grumbling sound as he was rustled from his place curled up on Tuesday’s pillow. Without opening his eyes, he whined, "Slow your roll, kid. Some of us need our beauty sleep. That’s me, by the way. You’re a hopeless case that can’t be helped."

Hey! Tuesday cried in protest, looking down at herself. Sure, she was in her pajamas, and sure they were a little rumpled and…pizza-stained. And yeah, one of her socks might’ve had a hole the size of Texas in it. But what did he expect? It was five-thirty in the morning!

You’d look the same way if you just woke up, she said, glaring at him.

Nightshade snorted and quipped, "Exactly. Which is why I’m begging you to let me sleep. It’s too early, Tues, too early."

Tuesday rolled her eyes.

Nightshade wasn’t as nice to her as Briana or Kacey or Orion were, but she considered him a friend. He had to be. He was her magic familiar, after all. And a witch’s familiar was supposed to be both her aid and her companion.

When Tuesday told him as much, his black fur bristled at the ends, and a moment later he stood up, groaning like she’d asked him to give her a kidney. Oh, fine! But I am definitely going to need an extra strong dose of catnip after this. My energy is not what it used to be.

Tuesday rolled her eyes with a smile. Nightshade was so dramatic sometimes, but you had to love him. He was a talking cat, for crying out loud. A sassy talking cat. And he could be really helpful. When he wanted to be.

Thanks, Nightshade, Tuesday said, scooping his tired body into her arms. Don’t worry, you can take a long nap when I leave for school later.

Nightshade yawned against Tuesday’s chest. But then who will give you the sage advice you need for dealing with your new…teacher?

Tuesday stiffened. She’d been trying with all her might not to think about that. Trust Nightshade to be the one to bring it up.

We’ll worry about that later, Tuesday said, both to herself and her cat. Right now, we need to focus on my lesson.

She said that, but thoughts of the teacher she’d be meeting later that morning nagged at the back of her mind.

Miss Fairchild was Tuesday’s new substitute English teacher, while her old one was on maternity leave. Tuesday didn’t meet her the first day she arrived (she skipped school to save the world from deadly ghouls), but she did see Miss Fairchild later that Monday night, last night to be exact, at the school’s fall fundraiser. And what she saw…hadn’t been pretty.

Tuesday was a thousand percent sure her new teacher was a witch just like her. And a reckless one. Witches and warlocks were supposed to keep the magic stuff a secret from regular people, but Miss Fairchild had done magic right in front of everyone at the fundraiser. Luckily, Tuesday was the only one to notice it, but still. The fact that Miss Fairchild, an adult, experienced witch, would do something like that at all weighed on her mind. And Nightshade knew it.

But Tuesday had nearly three whole hours before she’d meet her new teacher, so she tried her best to shove it from her mind as she hurried downstairs with Nightshade in her arms.

Downstairs, the foyer was dark and sleepy, only a dim lamp on a nearby table lighting her way. Tuesday looked left and right, wondering where to go from here. Her mom and aunt hadn’t exactly told her where her lesson would be, just that she needed to be downstairs at five thirty.

So here she was. Five thirty. Too-early shadows dancing around her. A snoring cat lying limp in her arms.

She was about to call out for her mom and aunt, when they beat her to the punch.

In here, Tuesday dear! That was her mother’s high, lilting voice, so much nicer on the ears than her aunt’s deep gravelly tone.

Tuesday turned to the sound of Tilia Skullcap’s voice and found herself facing the twin mahogany doors leading to the dining room. Ooh, yay! Maybe we’re going to start with breakfast! Tuesday was the type to crave breakfast as soon as her feet hit the floor in the morning. She just hoped her family wasn’t in one of their healthy kicks—she’d dealt with enough cod liver toast and calf hearts on her birthday four days ago.

She started toward the doors, wishing for blueberry banana pancakes and turkey bacon…orange juice…and buttered toast…

But when Tuesday pushed open the doors to the dining room, she couldn’t find any food. Nothing healthy, nothing junky. Nothing at all.

Uh…what’s going on here? Tuesday asked. Nightshade twisted around in her arms and opened his eyes, copying her frown as he checked out the scene for himself.

On the long table in the dining room, lit by all the floating taper candles that had decorated Tuesday’s birthday dinner, sat three plates covered with silver domes. Her mom and aunt stood against the wall opposite, smiling.

Aunt Comfrey was Tuesday’s mom, Tilia’s, older sister, and they shared a few similarities. They were both powerful witches, and they both loved plants (they even owned Flowerhaus, a nursery in town, together.) But Tuesday thought they couldn’t be more different, especially when they stood side by side like that.

Tilia was rosy, with a warm complexion, and she wore lots of light, flowery dresses that complimented her shiny green eyes and golden brown hair. Comfrey was lanky and pale, her hair black, her wardrobe a sea of thick, dark-colored outfits. But right then, they both smiled mischievously at Tuesday, and they both carried smooth wooden sticks.

Magic wands, Tuesday thought with a feeling of excitement as she walked into the room, letting the doors fall shut behind her.

What’s going on, guys? she asked again. What are the domes for?

Your lesson, of course, Aunt Comfrey said, with her usual snark.

Tilia nodded. Then her sweet face slipped into a smirk. "We know you’re a whiz with potions," she said, referring to the probably dozen rules she’d broken when she’d cooked up potions to help Uncle Yarrow with his cemetery ghoul problem. Tuesday blushed, and her mom went on, So we thought we’d start with some basic charm work. Starting with the Reveal All charm.

Reveal All charm? Tuesday asked. She set Nightshade down on the floor and moved closer to the table, staring down at the three silver domes like they were a trio of aliens.

Aunt Comfrey nodded. Then she waved the wand in her hand, drawing a kind of circle in the air with its tip. A second later, the air went all fizzy and smelled like the electric-shock-energy that always comes before a storm. It was always the same with her aunt’s magic. Every time she did a spell, it felt the same, smelled the same. Her mother had a signature magic flavor, as Tuesday thought of it, too. Hers was warm and sweet, like bakery energy. Tuesday found herself wondering what her magic smelled or felt like. She hadn’t noticed anything herself.

But it didn’t matter too much right then, because as soon as her aunt waved her wand, a spellbook popped onto the table, next to the domes. Tuesday’s mom took over from there, twirling her own wand to make the huge book open wide and flutter its pages. Then she surged forward and tapped the tip of her wand to the book, which had stopped on one spell in particular.

Tuesday looked down, and her aunt read the words at the top aloud.

’Reveal All Charm. A simple incantation for those who wish to unearth secrets, discover truths, and find that which is hidden.’

Whoa, Tuesday breathed. Her eyes bulged. "That. Is. Awesome!"

Nightshade, who’d gotten tired of being chased around the room by a floating candle, leaped onto the table with a light thump, and then began to sniff at the covered plates.

What’s this? I smell food, he said as his whiskers twitched.

Tuesday’s ears perked. Her stomach growled on cue. Food?

Tuesday’s mom chuckled. Yes, there’s food here. Delicious food. An order of chocolate chip waffles, cheesy ham hash browns, and maple bacon, straight from Ida’s Café.

Tuesday gasped. Ida’s Café was just about her favorite restaurant of all time, aside from the crazy-yummy Chinese place on Main Street. She wanted to throw her body across the table and yank those domes right off their plates until she found the goodies her mom was teasing her with.

But she didn’t. Because now she understood the point of the lesson.

I have to use the Reveal All Charm to find out which dome’s hiding my food…don’t I?

Tuesday’s mom nodded encouragingly while Aunt Comfrey snorted. She’s not dumb after all!

Ignoring her aunt, Tuesday frowned at Nightshade, whose diligent sniffing brought up a new question in her mind.

Wait, won’t I be able to smell the food like Nightshade?

Aunt Comfrey traced a kind of invisible loop-de-loop with the tip of her wand. The air smelled like an impending thunderstorm again for about two seconds—then it smelled like nothing at all.

Not now you won’t, her aunt said with a smirk.

Hey, I can’t smell anything anymore! Nightshade yowled in protest. How rude. Smelling food is half the fun of eating it. You know what they say—you eat with your nose first.

Tuesday grinned. She knew her familiar wasn’t entirely right about that quote, but she left it alone, because the thought of nailing her lesson—and getting to eat one of her favorite breakfasts afterwards—was way more exciting.

Okay, so what do I have to do? she asked.

Tuesday’s mom drifted toward her, her dress billowing behind her, and laid a red-painted fingernail on the spellbook. See these words here, my sweet? This is the incantation for the charm. All of you have to do is call out the words.

That’s it? Tuesday thought back to the very first spell she’d ever done. When she’d created Wednesday, her creepy clone that helped her save the day, she’d had to build a complicated circle on the floor and hunt for all sorts of strange objects to put in the middle of it.

When she mentioned this to the two of them, Aunt Comfrey nodded sagely and said, "That is called a spell circle. What we’re teaching you now is a charm. Charms are much simpler. Think of it like this—if a potion is a slow-cooked feast, and a spell circle is a fast food meal, charms are microwave dinners. A zap-and-done kinda thing."

"So all I have to do is talk? Tuesday couldn’t believe how easy that was! Sweet! This’ll be a piece of cake!"

If you say so, Aunt Comfrey said, a doubtful smirk sliding onto her face.

Tuesday just rolled her eyes. It was just like her whacky aunt to try to psych her out! What could possibly be hard about reciting a bunch of words? If she’d succeeded at potions, she’d definitely have charmwork in the bag. This Reveal All Charm was as good as done.

Chapter 2

Of course…saying something is as good as done is usually the prelude that’s always followed with a mega epic fail.

But Tuesday didn’t know that just yet.

She peered down at the spell, staring at each word closely. It wasn’t even the creepy old English from the last spell she did. Just a simple rhyme.

Reveal your hidden truths and lies, don’t let your secrets take me by surprise. Show me what you really are, be transparent like a glass jar. Reveal. Tuesday said the words matter-of-factly, staring at all the domes at the same time.

Nothing happened, and all three of them burst out laughing. Aunt Comfrey with her deep, bellowing chuckles. Mom with her wind-chimey giggles, half hidden behind her hand. And even Nightshade, with his weird half-meow, half-snort combination.

Tuesday’s chin jutted out. She harrumphed indignantly.

"What are you people laughing about? I did the spell, didn’t I?"

Tuesday’s mom was the first to stop laughing. Her giggles dissolved, replaced by a patient smile, and with a jab in her sister’s ribs, she silenced Aunt Comfrey too. The two of them stared at Tuesday, deep eyes willing her to understand.

No, sweetheart, you didn’t, Tuesday’s mom said.

And her heart sank.

What? Why not? You said all I had to do was say the words.

It’s easier said than done, kid, Aunt Comfrey said. "Charms are simple, but you have to know how to do them right. You can’t just recite the words in a bland monotone like you’re reading an essay for school. You have to feel the words."

"Feel them?" All Tuesday was feeling right then was an extra fierce hunger-monster gnawing at her stomach. And her growing frustration at her magic lesson.

Her mother nodded encouragingly. Think of it like music. Like when you’re singing along to one of your favorite songs.

Tuesday grinned wickedly. Like when you and Aunt Comfrey scream nineties boy band songs at the top of your lungs?

Aunt Comfrey rolled her eyes and shook her head, making the light thrown on her hair by the candles shimmer.

But Tuesday’s mom beamed at her and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Exactly, my dear! When we sing those songs, we feel the lyrics with our whole heart. We don’t speak the words, do we? It’s not a recitation—it’s a feeling."

Aunt Comfrey nodded. Yeah, and you have to actually think about what you want to happen, not just the words alone.

Tuesday smiled softly. More faith, focus, and frantic wishing? The three F’s were Aunt Comfrey’s signature mantra.

She grinned at Tuesday. Now you pay attention to what I say, huh? She reached out with all her fingers wiggling, like she was about to tickle Tuesday.

Laughing, Tuesday jumped out of the way and held up her hands in surrender. Okay, okay, okay! I get it. Feel the words, don’t say them. Can I try again?

You get as many tries as you need, honey, her mom said.

Nightshade yowled. We’ll be here all day!

Oh. Tilia Skullcap laughed nervously. You’re right. Um…okay, Tues, you get as many tries as you can fit between now and the time you have to leave for school.

Tuesday rolled her eyes. Leave it to Nightshade to remind her of the one thing she wanted to avoid today.

Whatever, she said. I bet I’ll get it on my next try!

Aunt Comfrey grinned devilishly. Well at least she’s confident.

Tuesday tuned out her family and focused once more on the rhyme.

Only this time, she didn’t just pay attention to the words. She read them a