The Wand

By Marieke Lexmond

In the third installment of the Madigan Chronicles, the struggle to keep the elemental powers safe continues, and the family dramas deepen. Get ready to venture into this captivating world of fantasy and magic!
As "The Wand" begins, Ceri has a hard time finding the balance as the Keeper of the Land in Fairy and being human – alienating her daughter, who finds a dangerous friend in Mab, the Queen of Fairy.
In the meantime, Maeve must face up to her teenage trauma and wrestles with accepting her true self. Bridget does her best to help her twin, and make up for some of the pain she had caused by leaving her behind all those years ago. At the same time, she is forced to take on a responsibility she never wanted and upsets the entire family in the process.
Homeless, Lucy has no other option than to ask her estranged son, Set, to take her in – not realizing she's playing right into the hand of Set's demon father. He has been waiting for this day for a long time.
Lucy's grandson Cal is confronted with his disposable position in his family. Disappointed and encouraged by Seamus, whose magical tarot card he still has in his possession, he embarks on a trip of magical self-discovery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 1, 1900
• ISBN: 9781667870786

Book preview

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Thank you, dear readers, for your support! I hope you’ve been enjoying the Madigan adventures as much as I have. What a wild ride this has been. Especially in these strange Covid times. Currently I’m looking over the hills of a very pretty part of the west coast of Ireland. I feel so lucky to be able to retreat here and immerse myself in the chronicles.

Nicole Ruijgrok has done another wonderful job of creating the tarot cards for this book. Such a joy to see more and more cards of the deck come to life. In the last couple of months we have managed to see each other in person and that always propels me forward with new ideas for the next book. We brainstormed about the remaining cards in the complete tarot deck. Much gratitude and thanks to her—the books wouldn’t be the same without her.

Big thanks again to Yvonne Borgogni and Charlotte Crocker, who spent a lot of time making sure I stayed on track and helped me with the language. As some of you might know, English is not my native tongue. Thanks to Karen Karlovich and Annette Beil for being my test readers.

Recently, Tracy Lamourie, from Lamourie Media, joined the team and it’s been wonderful to work with someone toward getting the books out there. Writing and marketing are definitely different gifts. Tracy is amazing! Thank you, BookBaby, for doing such an excellent job.

I especially want to mention Ramona Pina—she’s always quick to respond and has been an enormous help. And of course, my family, who are always there to cheer me on. A mountain of gratitude for my husband Jeroen Hendriks, for his patience, support, and unwavering belief in me.

I hope you enjoy the next installment of the magical madness of the Madigans.

Happy reading!

Marieke

Family Tree

PROLOGUE

NEW ORLEANS ALMOST 10 YEARS AGO

Maeve can’t contain her excitement. Her parents are gone for the weekend, her younger brother is staying with a friend, and she has the whole house to herself! Kesha’s Your love is my drug is blasting in the house while she dances to the beat. With a snap of her fingers, she lights a hundred candles. Her long curls bounce against her back and her light summer dress hugs her body. Owen, Owen, Owen, he will be staying tonight! Nervous butterflies escape from her belly and flutter around her.

Maeve has always been a stunning beauty and has never lacked attention from boys. None of them had caught her attention though. This one is different. Owen is sensitive, funny, and insightful. A gentle soul, no grandstanding or machismo; he’s just someone you can have deep discussions with that last all night. His mother is one of the famous New Orleans Voodoo Priestesses. He doesn’t display much talent in that area, but he’s used to magic, and hopefully, she will be able to reveal to him what she really is. For the very first time since her twin sister Bridget has left, she is happy. The future is looking up. It has been such a stressful year. It is unimaginable to her that Bridget doesn’t even want to talk to her. Her own twin. Maeve had tried everything, but after one heartbreaking attempt after another, she had finally given up. There would always be a hole inside her. Maybe Owen could fill that hole. Maybe, just a little bit.

The oven pings and she quickly rushes over to look at her quiche. Perfect. The doorbell rings and her heart skips a beat. One last time, she checks her image in the mirror in the hallway. With one touch of her forefinger, she touches up her plum-red lips. A giddy laugh escapes her. One final check of the room. Is this romantic enough? This could be THE night and she wants it to be amazing. The doorbell rings again, and with a long exhale, she tries to calm herself, blows away the butterflies, and opens the door.

Owen looks up and blushes—the sight of Maeve can do that to you. Luckily, on his dark skin, it doesn’t show much, and he tries desperately to play it cool. Not his strong point. In his jeans and T-shirt, he feels sorely underdressed. Hi, he finally manages to say.

Come in. Maeve pulls him towards her into the house, and gives him a clumsy kiss.

Wow, Owen utters, overwhelmed by the romantic setting. You did all this?

You like it? Maeve wants to know, desperate for approval.

It’s… it’s romantic. He swallows.

The awkward silence stretches, the air filled with anticipation of what they both hope is coming.

Maeve clears her throat, Do you want something to drink?

Yes, great. Owen is relieved to be doing something and follows Maeve into the kitchen.

This is blissfully normal, and Owen finally can breathe again, away from the pressure of romance. What is that? It smells incredible! He focuses on the steaming quiche on the countertop. This is rewarded by a full-watt smile from Maeve.

Would you like to try a piece?

Would love to!

Why don’t you sit down and open the bubbles? Maeve points to the kitchen table where fresh picked wildflowers and a bottle of Prosecco await him.

Bubbles?

Maeve was under the impression that champagne was the most romantic thing you could drink. After searching the pantry, a bottle of Prosecco was the best she could come up with. Legally, they’re not allowed to drink, but secretly they have been drinking beer. So, for tonight, she thought to get the best. Perfection was her mantra. You don’t like it? she asks, unable to hide her disappointment.

No. Of course I do. Owen reaches for the bottle and starts to fidget with the muselet, pretending to know what he’s doing. Little drops of sweat start to form on his forehead.

Maeve swiftly fills two plates with a piece of the quiche, some salad, and places them on the table on opposite sides, while she tries not to stare at Owen struggling with the Prosecco bottle.

Finally, he manages to wiggle the wire off and without warning the cork pops. Prosecco sprays all over the table, hitting Maeve right in the face.

Oh God. He runs to the counter and puts the bottle in the sink while he grabs the dish cloth,

and starts dabbing at her clothes and face. Any earlier awkwardness about touching her forgotten. I’m so sorry. Your dress! Frantically he tries to clean it up.

Gently Maeve takes the towel from his hand and laughs. Don’t worry. She giggles, which turns into a laughing fit. It’s hard not to join in. For several seconds, they hang onto each other while they laugh. When their laughter dies down, they stand close, their bodies touching, his face only inches from hers. Hesitantly they close the distance and a careful kiss is followed by one with more passion, and as their defenses fall away, their hands start to explore each other.

When Maeve comes up for air, she grabs Owen’s hand and leads him to her bedroom.

An hour later, the two plates are still on the table with the food gone cold. Maeve stretches herself next to Owen, enjoying the euphoria of her first love making, her hand teasingly exploring his warm skin. This was so much better than she imagined. He gives her a lovely smile.

Shall we take a bath? My parents’ room has a big jacuzzi. Maeve’s eyes beam.

Hmmm, Owen replies while he nuzzles her breasts. She takes that as a yes.

Let me go turn on the water, she mumbles as she slides out of bed and throws on one of her mother’s sexy negligees. Owen’s eyes are glued to her body. She leaves the room with what she hopes is a seductive sway of her hips.

Her body is warm and aglow—a new sensation. Why had she waited so long to do this? It makes her feel so different— more powerful somehow. Her mother had talked to her sisters sometimes about the magic of sex but Maeve hadn’t understood what it meant until now. Power is flowing through her in waves, ebbing and flowing. It’s hard for her to contain the magic—it wants to pour out of her. Something she could get addicted to. This thought makes her laugh out loud. In her parents’ room, she has already prepped the bath. The only thing she needs to do is fill it. This time with one snap, she lights all the candles. The water flows into the tub and the bath salts she mixed start to spread a pleasant sensual aroma. Oh, Maeve can’t wait to get into the water. It calls her. Time to go get Owen.

When they come back into the room, the bath is full. With a kiss, she distracts Owen while she whispers a spell against his lips to turn off the faucet. Never in a million years could she have imagined that she would be so sure of herself. Their love making must have given her confidence an enormous boost. Her hand travels down and soon she senses Owen growing in her hand. He moans into her mouth. A laugh escapes her again and this time, it bounces through the bathroom with a promise of love and sex. It resonates within Owen and he shudders.

Let’s get in the water, she softly says in his ear.

He follows her lead and steps into the tub. After a short minute, their bodies get used to the warm water and they lower themselves into it. It’s a roomy bath and Maeve turns the jacuzzi on low, so the bubbles tease their skin. Owen sits back and he pulls Maeve on top of him.

She has never felt like this before. Her body seems to be at home in the water. Something very deep inside her starts to unfurl. A tingling sensation spreads through her while they kiss deeply as if their lives are depending on it. Owen pulls her up and disappears underwater while she laughs. Her voice sounds like music. When he comes up for air, the sound of her voice seems to capture him. His face turns from admiration into worship. She’s the most beautiful creature he has ever seen and her hair is flowing above him as if she were underwater. This all seems totally normal to him. Maeve is the only thing left in the world.

The tingling through Maeve’s body grows more intense and she seems to explode, this time the orgasm takes her body apart. Fleetingly she wonders if this is the ultimate sex. Her mind is totally engulfed in her pleasure and she’s not aware that her body has changed. Her legs have morphed into a mermaid’s tail, her hair plays in the air and her voice is magical. Owen is completely enthralled. With a passion she didn’t know exists, she kisses him. Reaching deep inside him, into the core of his being. The well of his life force tastes like sweet honey, mixed with love and the complexity of what makes a person. He has no defenses against her Siren passion. For several long minutes, Maeve rides the pleasures of being a Siren, Owen willingly surrendering to her demands.

The splashing of her tail somehow draws her back to the surface of reality. She looks down and Owen is unconscious. With trepidation, she looks back just as she feels a weird sensation in her legs. Her tail flops in the bath and that makes her scream. The candles extinguish, the light bulb bursts and the mirror cracks. As quickly as her first transition has set in, it reverses and with a plop she squashes Owen. Horrified, Maeve holds onto Owen. Why is he not waking up? Her Siren screams turn to normal screams and it takes her some time to snap out of her paralyzing state of horror and shock.

Owen, Owen! Please, wake up!

PART 1

NINE OF CUPS GENEROSITY

"You make all kinds of mistakes,

but as long as you are generous and true and also fierce,

you cannot hurt the world or even seriously distress her."

—Winston S. Churchill

NEW ORLEANS

Tara, the Madigan’s matriarch, sits in her favorite spot on the windowsill of her room, overlooking the garden and waiting for the sun to rise. She’s still in her night gown with her long, gray hair hanging down, almost brushing the ground. Dawn is always a magical time, the first sunrays playing through the leaves, chasing away the dew drops. Birds start to sing, and bees are buzzing everywhere. A gentle moment in the day when everything is waking up. She hasn’t slept much. The events of the last few weeks keep replaying in her head. Jumping from one unnerving experience to the next. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees the emerald green fairy eyes of her daughter Ceri, full of anger and hurt. To admit to her that it’s true that Ceri’s real father is a fairy and had forced himself on Tara was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. Felaern was his name, and he held a high position at the courts of the land of Fairy. A realm that Tara used to visit a lot when she was young. Whatever happened to Ceri in Fairy has changed her. Not only in her looks, but her magical powers have also grown significantly. Witch and fairy magic are mingled together, an untamed wildness flows through it. Slightly scary actually.

For a moment, Tara mumbles a spell and a tiny light sparks alive above her finger; playfully, she lets it bounce from one finger to the next and back again. Her eyes follow the little light, only half-focused— it’s almost as good as a meditation. A sense of calm returns, until the image of Bridget in pain pops up. Her granddaughter was tortured. Who knows what the permanent scars will be from that? She’s in her mid-twenties, a strong-willed vibrant young woman, and although she pretends to be fine, they all know something is simmering underneath. Hopefully Wes, her artist boyfriend, will be able to help her through that. He has been such a gift to the family. Tara has quickly grown very fond of him. His upbeat personality reminds her so much of her late husband Seamus. He even managed to draw Maeve, Bridget’s twin, out of her shell. The girls seem to have reconnected. The only positive that has come from all this.

Bridget did show an enormous amount of strength and willingness for sacrifice. Tara is now sure she had made the right choice when she marked her as the next Guardian of the Wand of Wisdom, the elemental force entrusted to them. The Wand has been in the Madigan family for generations. Her age aches in her bones, the Guardian needs to be strong. Especially now, Tara feels weak and no longer in control of her family. The moment to pass on the Wand has become urgent, she has waited too long. Tara can feel it, literally. A weight on her soul. It’s been hard to pin down Bridget and convince her. She can understand her granddaughter’s hesitation, but nobody wants that kind of responsibility. It had destroyed her own mother, a sensitive soul. Bridget is the one—there’s no choice.

When she glances at Seamus’ portrait, there is merely the empty forest. It had surprised her how much the painting had brought her comfort since Seamus’ passing. His smile and reassuring eyes were always listening and encouraging her. Oh Seamus, my love. Wherever you are now, I hope you hear me. Come back to me.

She blows on the spark at her fingertips, and it drifts into the air, out of the window, in search of her husband. Resolute she turns away from the window and gets up, ready for the new day.

Facing her own estranged twin sister, Lucy, has been another shocking experience. Lucy had always been ambitious and her hunger for power had been the cause of her being banned from the family. Although they secretly stayed in touch for a while, over the years, it became less and less frequent. It had been so long that decades had gone by. Almost forgotten… Until Lucy stole the Dagger of Consciousness, one of the other elemental objects of power, and set off their current predicament. With the diversion of a convincing lookalike, they had managed to reclaim the real Dagger and hide it from everybody inside the Magical Tarot Deck. However, the Dagger belongs to Gwen’s family, the Janssons. Gwen has been staying with them ever since the Dagger has been hidden. So far, Tara has been able to convince her that it’s safe where it is now. But there is no doubt in her mind that Gwen will demand the Dagger back soon. Should she return it? Is that family strong enough to protect it? After all, Lucy had killed Gwen’s sister and stolen the Dagger from her. No—it’s safe where it is now. Should Gwen confront her, she can always say that only Bridget and Maeve know where it is and that they don’t want to say for safety reasons.

What has happened to her? To even think about hiding behind her granddaughters! It’s not like her. Lucy thinks that Mab, the Queen of Fairy, has the Dagger. When they both find out it’s a fake, it won’t take them long to figure out that the Madigans have it! Better to start to plan ahead, be pro-active. Not wait and see what her twin has in store. The things that Lucy, or even worse Mab, could do with that amount of power are unimaginable. They have to keep the elemental objects safe and away from them at all costs.

Tara has always been the strong matriarch of the family, but her position is failing. She had lost the trust of her family. Maybe that’s the most painful thing that had happened. Can she blame them? Probably not.

Time and again, she has run through her reasoning for keeping a lot of things secret; if she had to do it again, she would definitely handle it all differently. That’s all water under the bridge—there is no other choice than following the path taken.

She might be old; she might be losing her grip, but she’s still the head of the family.

For a moment she steps into the morning sunbeam and twirls around while she recites an ancient spell to recharge. This helps to burn away the morning blues.

Let’s see what she has to look out for. Swiftly, she grabs the Ace of Wands from her altar and shuffles her regular tarot deck. With her left hand, she chooses a new card. The Nine of Cups, a dolphin happily looks at her while her pod is frolicking in the background. A happy card, it’s about being generous but also being together and enjoying the pleasures in life. A good omen. This lifts her spirits and helps her to get ready to face her family today. The Magical Tarot Deck is locked up in the family safe. Not to be used again. This special deck that Seamus had painted of their family caused enough problems. How could they ever have anticipated that it would end up in the hands of her malicious twin? That Lucy would wield it against them. Seamus’ card is still missing though. They have to work on that.

When she finally makes it to the kitchen, Tara finds a moping Luna at the table and Bridget at the stove. Luna is her most powerful daughter and rarely out of sorts. She wonders what has put her in this mood. Another unexpected thing that has actually happened is that Tara and Luna have found common ground in how to deal with magical things. It has been a joy to share spells and work together.

Where’s Maeve? her granddaughter is the queen of the kitchen and normally, she would be cooking up a storm at this time of day.

Bridget’s back stiffens, Don’t you trust my cooking? There is clearly something more going on.

A freshly baked batch of muffins is still steaming on a plate on the table. Tara reaches for one.

I wouldn’t do that. Luna warns her, It’s not the same.

Hey! Bridget snaps her finger and an air hand slaps Luna gently on the back of her head.

Without looking up, Luna sends some water from the sink flying right into Bridget’s face. A laugh escapes her. Tara is shocked; this is the first ever playful exchange she has seen between mother and daughter, in maybe ever. Without thinking, she grabs a muffin and bites into it with full anticipation and can’t hide her disappointment. The girls may look alike, but their cooking skills are vastly different.

I told you, says Luna with a deadpan expression.

Tara rolls her eyes at her. What’s wrong with you? Has Tom come back yet?

Luna’s face falls and she turns back to pretending to read the newspaper.

Tom went straight to Boston, replies Bridget for her.

What? Why? With nothing else around, Tara goes ahead and finishes the muffin.

Again, Bridget answers, barely hiding her gloating tone. You don’t leave a man like that behind. He’s used to being in charge. He’s a man of action. To dismiss him like that… Hell, I would have done the same.

It was the only way, is all Luna says.

Really?

Luna spins around and now her eyes shoot daggers at her daughter. Bridget smiles, happy to have needled her mother and to finally get a reaction. It’s not very often that she gets the chance to rub it in. Usually, her mother is the one who knows everything better and can’t wait to tell you so.

I’m sure if you explain it, he will be reasonable. He’s such a nice man. I really thought he was the one for you. Tara tries to smooth things out. This only results in a murderous stare.

Where is Maeve? Tara tries again, hoping for a safer topic of conversation.

She’s walking the dogs at the river bend with Wes. The tone of Bridget’s voice betrays her feelings about that. It seems like her mother is not the only one in a bad mood.

Maeve’s hair gently sways in the morning breeze. Together with Wes, Bridget’s boyfriend, and their six dogs, they walk along the river bend. The wind brings some relief although it’s already hot, even at this early hour. The dogs roam free, which is not exactly allowed, but everybody does that here. It’s never very busy. The muddy waters flow fast, the current is strong. In some areas, there are houses on stilts along the riverbank. The path is mainly grass and there are some trees standing in shallow water, creating a mini swamp.

Maeve and Wes walk together in a comfortable silence. They had become friends over the last couple of weeks. Bridget is a lucky woman. Wes is kind and supportive and not fazed at all by her being a witch or weird shit happening. And weird shit has been happening in rapid succession. It has distracted Maeve from her normal worries. Ordinarily, she would avoid male company, but this is the first time, in maybe ever that she feels relaxed being alone with a man. She has always avoided it, ever since… Quickly she shuts that door in her mind to prevent herself from wandering there. Does she feel comfortable because she can’t have this man anyway? Maybe… He’s untouchable as he’s bound to her sister. This makes her completely safe. Their conversations and companionship during Bridget’s torture did make her think again about men. And then that flashback she got from Bridget’s and Wes’s lovemaking while they walked between the cards. Wow! Instantly her cheeks burn—the thought alone…

Are you okay? asks Wes.

Her cheeks turn redder, if possible. It’s already so hot.

It gets pretty hot in the summer in Boston, but I must say, the heat here is worse. Wes’s shirt is already soaked with sweat. The Louisiana summers are known for their killer humidity.

I wouldn’t know. Even though I’ve lived here all my life, I still find the summers challenging. Maeve smiles. Look, egrets. She points to three great egrets standing in the swamp at the bottom of the bank.

They’re so majestic, aren’t they? agrees Wes.

I love walking here and watching the wildlife.

A dog’s cry pierces their peaceful ramble. Wes sweeps the bottom of the riverbank to see who is crying, and to his horror, he sees Bouncer, their black lab, struggling with an alligator.

Oh my God! he screams while Moon, the rottweiler charges down the banks to Bouncer’s rescue. But the alligator has a good hold on Bouncer’s back end and is starting to drag him further into the water. The cries are horrific. Maeve doesn’t hesitate and runs down the hill while she slings a knock back spell at the gator and Bouncer. This turns out to be a mistake. It slings them further into the water and gives the alligator the advantage it needed. Moon is following them into the water. Maeve shouts at him, Moon! Get out! She rushes past him, and Wes is horrified when he sees Maeve plunge into the water. NOOOO! he shouts.

Bouncer still screams and Maeve wades deeper and deeper after them. The alligator starts to roll his prey. Maeve dives under and Wes doesn’t know what to do. Moon has followed Maeve but Wes and the other dogs are left on the edge of the water, hoping for the best. MAEVE! He screams when she doesn’t come back up. In total shock, he sees the alligator surface. This time it’s not Bouncer in his mouth, but Maeve hanging onto the back of the alligator. She has grabbed his jaws, and is struggling with him with an otherworldly strength. Wes squints to try to make sense of what he sees. Maeve’s tail is now wrapped around the rest of the alligator and is squashing it. The alligator rolls in a move to shed Maeve. Wes feels helpless while he watches them twist and turn in the water. The scales on Maeve’s tail glitter in the sunlight. Luckily Wes is too concerned about her survival to really understand what he’s seeing. Moon has managed to grab an injured Bouncer and is working his way back to the shore. The other dogs go wild barking.

Maeve hadn’t thought this through, but she couldn’t let the dog be dragged away. Now she struggles to get the upper hand. Being a Siren does give you superhuman strength but wrestling an alligator is not something she has done before. The alien feeling of her body is distracting. Instinct is the only thing helping her along. Her tail is a match for the alligator’s body and keeps it in check while her hands struggle to close its mouth. When her brain finally starts to resurface, a reflex makes her whisper a docile spell into the alligator’s ear. The Siren wants to kill it, but her human self would never kill anything. Slipp, sett fri The Nordic language slips easily off her tongue. Immediately the alligator goes limp. Nothing can resist a Siren Song, not even animals. Very slowly, she loosens her grip, and when the alligator doesn’t react, she pushes it out into the river. When her head surfaces, she looks into the eyes of a stricken Wes, who is trying to help Moon pull a bleeding Bouncer out of the water.

I’m okay! she shouts out with her otherworldly