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    Witches II: Apocalypse
    Witches II: Apocalypse
    Witches II: Apocalypse
    Ebook330 pages8 hours

    Witches II: Apocalypse

    By Kathryn Meyer Griffith

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    About this ebook

    The long-awaited sequel to my 1993 best-selling paperback novel Witches is finally HERE! Yes, witches exist...the good and the bad ones...and one day the two ancient adversaries of good and evil will join the fight for control of the world. Amanda has been told her ten year old witch-child, Lizzy, is fated to someday become one of the planet’s most powerful witches. If she lives. If the world survives. Because the world is being threatened by an anti-Christ called Reuben who is prophesied to bring the end of the world by destroying everyone and everything good–including the white witches and warlocks of the world–unless he can be stopped. The Guardians, a secret society of those white wiccans who protect others of their kind and the world from great evil, along with the powerful good witch, Amanda Givens, and her gifted daughter, Lizzy, must battle Reuben and his demonic followers. They must somehow change the outcome of the prophesied end times, aid a possible child of God, help the earth’s people to resist the black witches, demons and the soulless, which the times have brought forth and who are trying to bring hell to earth. Good and evil will be brought together for the final battles. Will Amanda, Lizzy, and the Guardians defeat evil or will it defeat them as they fight with all their strength and powers to save the people, the lives and the world they love. Who will win?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKathryn Meyer Griffith
    Release dateSep 27, 2017
    ISBN9781370190607
    Witches II: Apocalypse
    Author

    Kathryn Meyer Griffith

    About Kathryn Meyer Griffith...Since childhood I’ve been an artist and worked as a graphic designer in the corporate world and for newspapers for twenty-three years before I quit to write full time. But I’d already begun writing novels at 21, almost fifty years ago now, and have had thirty-one (romantic horror, horror novels, romantic SF horror, romantic suspense, romantic time travel, historical romance, thrillers, non-fiction short story collection, and murder mysteries) previous novels and thirteen short stories published from various traditional publishers since 1984. But, I’ve gone into self-publishing in a big way since 2012; and upon getting all my previous books’ full rights back for the first time have self-published all of them. My five Dinosaur Lake novels and Spookie Town Murder Mysteries (Scraps of Paper, All Things Slip Away, Ghosts Beneath Us, Witches Among Us, What Lies Beneath the Graves, All Those Who Came Before, When the Fireflies Returned) are my best-sellers.I’ve been married to Russell for over forty-three years; have a son, two grandchildren and a great-granddaughter and I live in a small quaint town in Illinois. We have a quirky cat, Sasha, and the three of us live happily in an old house in the heart of town. Though I’ve been an artist, and a folk/classic rock singer in my youth with my late brother Jim, writing has always been my greatest passion, my butterfly stage, and I’ll probably write stories until the day I die...or until my memory goes.2012 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS *Finalist* for her horror novel The Last Vampire ~ 2014 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS * Finalist * for her thriller novel Dinosaur Lake.*All Kathryn Meyer Griffith’s 31 novels and 13 short storiesare available everywhere in eBooks, paperbacks and audio books.Novels and short stories from Kathryn Meyer Griffith:Evil Stalks the Night, The Heart of the Rose, Blood Forged, Vampire Blood, The Last Vampire (2012 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS*Finalist* in their Horror category), Witches, Witches II: Apocalypse, Witches plus Witches II: Apocalypse, The Nameless One erotic horror short story, The Calling, Scraps of Paper (The First Spookie Town Murder Mystery), All Things Slip Away (The Second Spookie Town Murder Mystery), Ghosts Beneath Us (The Third Spookie Town Murder Mystery), Witches Among Us (The Fourth Spookie Town Murder Mystery), What Lies Beneath the Graves (The Fifth Spookie Town Murder Mystery), All Those Who Came Before (The Sixth Spookie Town Murder Mystery), When the Fireflies Returned (The Seventh Spookie Town Murder Mystery), Egyptian Heart, Winter’s Journey, The Ice Bridge, Don’t Look Back, Agnes, A Time of Demons and Angels, The Woman in Crimson, Human No Longer, Six Spooky Short Stories Collection, Haunted Tales, Forever and Always Romantic Novella, Night Carnival Short Story, Dinosaur Lake (2014 EPIC EBOOK AWARDS*Finalist* in their Thriller/Adventure category), Dinosaur Lake II: Dinosaurs Arising, Dinosaur Lake III: Infestation and Dinosaur Lake IV: Dinosaur Wars, Dinosaur Lake V: Survivors, Dinosaur Lake VI: The Alien Connection, Memories of My Childhood and Christmas Magic 1959.Her Websites:Twitter: https://twitter.com/KathrynG64My Blog: https://kathrynmeyergriffith.wordpress.com/My Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/KathrynMeyerGriffith67/Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/kathryn.meyergriffith.7http://www.authorsden.com/kathrynmeyergriffithhttps://www.goodreads.com/author/show/889499.Kathryn_Meyer_Griffithhttp://en.gravatar.com/kathrynmeyergriffithhttps://www.linkedin.com/in/kathryn-meyer-griffith-99a83216/https://www.pinterest.com/kathryn5139/You Tube REVIEW of Dinosaur Lake: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDtsOHnIiXQ&pbjreload=101

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      Book preview

      Witches II - Kathryn Meyer Griffith

      Other books by Kathryn Meyer Griffith:

      Evil Stalks the Night

      The Heart of the Rose

      Love Is Stronger Than Evil

      Vampire Blood (prequel to Human No Longer)

      Human No Longer (sequel to Vampire Blood)

      The Last Vampire (2012 Epic EBook Awards Finalist)

      Witches

      Witches II: Apocalypse

      Witches plus bonus Witches II: Apocalypse

      The Calling

      Scraps of Paper-First Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      All Things Slip Away-Second Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      Ghosts Beneath Us-Third Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      Witches Among Us-Fourth Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      What Lies Beneath the Graves-Fifth Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      All Those Who Came Before-Sixth Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      When the Fireflies Returned-Seventh Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      Echoes of Other Times-Eighth Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      Waiting Beyond The Veil -Ninth Spookie Town Murder Mystery

      Winter’s Journey

      The Ice Bridge

      Egyptian Heart

      Don’t Look Back, Agnes

      A Time of Demons and Angels

      The Woman in Crimson

      Spooky Short Stories

      Haunted Tales

      Night Carnival

      Forever and Always Novella

      The Nameless One erotic horror short story

      Dinosaur Lake (2014 Epic EBook Awards Finalist)

      Dinosaur Lake II: Dinosaurs Arising

      Dinosaur Lake III: Infestation

      Dinosaur Lake IV: Dinosaur Wars

      Dinosaur Lake V: Survivors

      Dinosaur Lake VI: The Alien Connection

      Dinosaur Lake VII: The Aliens Return

      Dinosaur Lake VIII: for Love of Oscar...coming soon

      Memories of My Childhood

      Christmas Magic 1959 non-fiction short story

      *All Kathryn Meyer Griffith’s books can be found

      everywhere in eBooks, paperbacks, and audio books.

      Prologue

      THE OLD WITCH DEIDRE had been having premonitions for days. Being a shrewd woman, she knew there was something dreadfully wrong with the world and it had to do with the other side. It was up to something again...it always was. She’d been seeing the signs for a long time.

      Everything was a little off. Time seemed to freeze at certain moments, slither by faster than it should at others or she’d catch murky, slinking shapes rushing here and there if she moved her eyes quickly enough. It was her gift of the sight which enabled her to see such things, even though her witch powers had been dwindling the last decade because of her great age. Her basic abilities, being able to do her spells, would be the last to go.

      The moon’s night faces frowned and the shadows of innocent objects churned and surged, becoming threatening creatures one moment and mere ashen blobs the next. These grave portents only occurred when the other side was close to bursting out of its boundaries–and that meant trouble.

      Deidre had thought things were bad enough and then the demon whisperings began. In between her spoken words or in the brief time before she fell asleep each night or awoke every morning she’d hear the tiny rustling voices. She could never make out what they were saying–as if anyone could understand demons anyway. Mostly of their kind spoke gibberish. And no one heard these particular demons but she and it drove her a bit crazy. The witches in her coven, all younger and less experienced than she was, heard nothing, saw nothing and were beginning to think she was losing her mind or simply getting senile. She wasn’t, or, at least, she didn’t think she was.

      But that wasn’t the worst of it. The dead were rising. She’d never have believed it if she hadn’t seen it herself. Driving by the cemetery one night she’d seen spooks squatting on tombstones or wandering around looking lost; grinning at her with dirty teeth and wormy faces, their eyes shifty with evil mischief. They weren’t the usual remnants of the dead and gone, which were mostly harmless spirits, for these she sensed were soulless haunts. She could tell they had no immortal souls by the ebony auras around them. For a split second her witch’s sight had caught the shades cavorting about and then they’d melted into the mist as if to hide from her.

      At the time she’d turned the car around, parked it, and had stalked among the graves hoping to catch and get one of them to tell her what they were up to. She didn’t have any luck. The cemetery was empty and the air was silent. The only sounds were the crunching of dried leaves beneath her feet as she wove between the hunks of stone. There were no spooks anywhere. Sly little devils.

      The witch knew what she’d seen, though, and when she couldn’t find the wraiths she quickly fled the place. She’d remembered the soulless dead could be strong and she was only one ineffectual aging witch. It was better to be safe than sorry.

      Back at her apartment, trying to magically contact her sister witches all she got was white noise. Suddenly her invocations were no longer working and even the telephone wouldn’t let her reach any of her coven. The telephone lines were conveniently dead. Then she knew whatever was wrong was big trouble. Something really bad was coming and it didn’t want her to warn the others.

      She had no choice but to get in the car and drive to where she could get help. A few of her coven lived in a nearby town and that was where she had to go; with their assistance she might be able to defend herself and the other white witches.

      As she drove, the rain was a sheet of falling gray, and lightning lit up the car windows. Yet traveling fifteen miles in bad weather shouldn’t be difficult even if she was afraid of driving in storms; she could do it because the situation was too perilous not to. But a quarter way there she realized she’d forgotten something, turned around, and drove back home to collect her familiar.

      But she fell violently ill the minute her hand touched her apartment’s doorknob and afterwards she was too weak to stand or move, much less go anywhere. She stumbled into her apartment and collapsed on the bed. Her owl familiar, was nowhere to be seen. Which was ominous. Her familiar rarely went anywhere without her. If the owl returned the witch could send her for help.

      By midnight there were blistered scabs covering her body, a fever high enough to melt butter heated her leathery skin–and she knew she’d been cursed. An illness sent by the other side, and a potent spell indeed to have sickened her as swiftly as it had. Trapped in her apartment, she scribbled a note, was finally able to cast a protection spell on it after three tries so nothing would happen to it, knowing if worse came to worse other witches would read it and learn of her premonitions, her fears, and the situation so they might find a way to protect themselves and other witches even if she was gone.

      Then her owl familiar was there on the edge of the bed. Its head drooping and its eyes full of some horror it had seen. You finally came home, Missy. I was so worried for you, the old witch exclaimed as she took the tiny bird into her arms. She could see the owl was dying, too. The fire in its eyes was fading, it couldn’t use any of its magic. Most likely that was the reason why it had taken so long to return to her. Whatever or whoever had cursed her had also cursed her familiar. She held it until it grew cold and still, her tears falling warm on its feathers. She’d had the owl since she’d been a child and the bird had always been her best friend and confidant. She had loved the creature and the creature had loved her. Losing Missy took away the last of the old witch’s will to live.

      From outside she heard the storm raging, the scratching and moaning of otherworldly things demanding entrance and ignored them at first. With the last of her dwindling magic, she’d sealed her home against evil as best she could. It should keep the ghosts and demons out for a while. The trees scratched the metal siding and the wind whispered you’re in great danger! But, in the end, she was too weak to resist and eventually too sick to care.

      She’d sensed things, seen things she shouldn’t have, too soon, and now someone or something wanted her silenced. The phones were silent, her familiar was dead, her magic had forsaken her, and there wasn’t anything else she could do. She fought to remain conscious. Muttering one final protection spell, this time for herself, she lay in her bed, and waited as her enemies and the wind screeched outside her home.

      She didn’t have to wait long.

      The old witch watched as a ragged tear slit down the length of her bedroom wall and smoky creatures burst from the opening onto her floor and slunk towards her. As weakened as she was, she tried to weave a fending-off spell against her demonic attackers, but the magic wouldn’t come. It had completely abandoned her.

      Her note burst into flame as shadows laughed and fought in the room.

      THE NEXT MORNING THE old woman was found dead in her storm damaged apartment. The medical examiner wasn’t sure what she’d died of...there wasn’t a scratch or a bruise on her. Death had been by natural causes, old age, he concluded, and his report was vague. Many elderly, their hearts simply giving out, died during thunderstorms. Bad weather was hard on the old ones.

      It wouldn’t be the last of those mysterious deaths the medical examiner would document in the coming months. There would be more than he could imagine and particularly baffling because a great deal of them wouldn’t be old people and increasingly many would actually die of a strange illness the examiner would never be able to identify. The unexplained deaths would be women and men–of every age–but they’d all be just as dead.

      Chapter 1

      AMANDA GIVENS HAD BEEN admiring the large bay window in her kitchen which her friend Ernie had installed for her the month before. Though carpentry was one of her secret passions she hadn’t been able to help him much because she’d been so busy. There’d been too many duties and not enough hours, not even in a witch’s day, for her to help him. She’d always wanted a bay window so she could gaze out into the woods. And today, through the clear glass, the leaves on the trees behind her house were stunning hues of orange, gold and crimson. It was only early October, but autumn was already here. The trees outside were already speaking to her, sighing and whispering their secrets. There was much to learn if a person listened, for trees could reveal the past as well as sometimes tell the future. Amanda was waiting for them to tell her hers.

      These days being a white witch wasn’t easy and being one of the elite Guardians, a secretive society to aid and protect white wiccans across the world, as well as humans, was more difficult yet. When dealing with Guardians’ business there were so many things which could go wrong, so much damage that could be done, and so many extenuating circumstances possible, that only the strongest of them, at times, could survive. Sometimes failure meant death.

      Lately Amanda couldn’t afford to let her guard down, couldn’t relax, because the omens had become increasingly menacing, branding this as an extremely dangerous time in the world’s history. There was Armageddon in the air and Amanda, as one of the most powerful witches on the planet, knew an apocalyptic battle was brewing. She and the other Guardians had to be ready.

      But she was weary. There were still the day to day witch problems and skirmishes to attend to. Her last mission had been exhausting. An unskilled young witch in Arizona had mistakenly summoned a deep-hell hate demon and allowed it to escape. Five innocent people had died before Amanda and her witch sister, Rebecca, had corralled the denizen from the underworld and destroyed it.

      It’d been a hard year all around, she reflected. There’d been one crisis after another. Being a Guardian was an obligation she took as seriously as she did being a mother to a young witch who was destined to be one of the greatest white witches of all time, if the seers were to be believed. So Amanda had much to protect. Other witches. The world. The future. Her daughter. But even witches needed time for themselves, time to take care of their own business, their home, and to be with their children.

      Elizabeth, her daughter, whom they called Lizzy for short, was ten now and beginning to come into her own powers. It was important Amanda spend time with her...for great magic such as Elizabeth possessed could be frightening to a child, even one as gifted as her daughter.

      The woods outside, lit with pink twilight as the day came to a close, beckoned Amanda. All her worries and duties faded as she thought of the cool serenity of the night woods. Walking through the murmuring trees would rejuvenate her energy and spirit as it always did. She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, down the steps and into her backyard. One of the reasons she cherished her little house in town was because of the small forest behind it. She rarely missed the cabin her dead husband, Jake, had once built for her in the woods and the townspeople had burned down so long ago. She’d come to enjoy living in town amongst people, being within walking distance from everyone and everything; close to the craft shop she ran with Jane Weatherby, her long-time friend. And her house was close to everything her child needed to have a full normal life. Well, as normal as a witch child could have.

      Crisp, tangy air filled her lungs, a cool breeze tugged at her long brown hair streaked with white. She hadn’t tied it back today, but wore it loose so it could warm her shoulders. It fell to her waist, and she was a tall woman. Some would say she was too old to wear her hair so long. But she didn’t feel like herself with short hair, so she kept it long, sometimes tying it or pinning it up. And she didn’t mind the streaks, they made her feel wise and like the mature witch she was.

      Somewhere off in the distance an owl flapped slender wings, disturbing the dark green silence. A glimmering aura of light was settling along the wood’s horizons and the sky seemed unreal with its palette of mauves and yellows.

      She loved this part of the day. Twilight. It was one of the times of enchantment and possibilities when a witch could reach out and touch the past or the future. A time when spells cast would be strong. Only the minutes surrounding midnight and the last few hours of a Wiccan’s year on Samhain, October the thirty-first, were stronger.

      A wooden swing hung from the oak tree and it creaked as it swayed back and forth gently in the breeze. At first Amanda didn’t see anyone on the swing, then her daughter, Lizzy, appeared on it as if out of nowhere. She’d learned the spell a few days ago, being able to materialize at will anywhere or anytime she wanted, and was crazy about it; used it whenever she could. But her daughter’s accomplishment was unsettling to Amanda. She couldn’t keep track of her offspring the way it was, now she never knew where she was poofing off to or when she’d return. There would have to be rules laid down. Especially now, when the child needed to be so careful.

      Across the distance, the two witches exchanged smiles, and Amanda thought how pretty her daughter was becoming with her white blond hair, sapphire blue eyes and sweet demeanor. True, she wasn’t classically beautiful, not that it mattered because she had a fey way about her and treated everyone with kindness that, along with her smile, made her fetching in her own right. The girl’s mind was sharp and her eyes were alive with magic. Lizzy was already a true seer and was developing other amazing powers which were yet in their infancy. She seemed to know things she was far too young to comprehend. So how strong she’d be in ten or twenty years, Amanda couldn’t imagine.

      Mother, spying on me again? the girl quipped in a mock cheeky tone.

      Watching over you, daughter, is more like it.

      Amanda would be forever grateful for the precious child she’d been given ten years ago from the man she’d loved in another time. Dragged back into the seventeenth century by the evil witch Rachel to die in that woman’s place, she’d fallen in love with a man named Joshua. He’d possessed her dead husband Jake’s soul and, though she’d tried not to, she’d loved him. He’d given her a child, a miracle in itself after all the years she and her husband had tried but failed to have one of their own. Lizzy was the greatest happiness of her life. She’d do anything for her daughter. Anything.

      The light shifted and the gloomy shadows thickened beyond the trees behind them as if there were something lurking there which possessed a great darkness. Amanda shivered and pulled her sweater closer about her. I came to tell you supper is ready, Lizzy. Chicken pot pie, your favorite. And I added a slice of cheese on top just as you like it.

      Yippie! The girl sailed out of the swing and landed on her feet like a cat. She was lithe and, for her age, tall like her mother and had some of the same mannerisms, the same soft heart, but there the resemblance ended. A child of the new millennium, Lizzy was in sync with the technology of the times, could navigate the intricacies of the worldwide web; could work a laptop, an iPad, an iPod, in her sleep and seemed to grasp the inner workings of those machines. People automatically warmed to her because she could win almost anyone’s heart with a smile. And she was fearless.

      Where’s Amadeus, Mom? I haven’t seen him all day. Amadeus was Amanda’s familiar, a curmudgeon of a bluish-gray Maltese cat with ancient powers and a mind of his own. A true witch’s cat.

      You know Amadeus, sweetie, he’s the same contrary creature he’s always been. He’ll turn up, probably when I put supper on the table. You know how he loves the chicken in the pot pies.

      He’s up to something...big, her daughter commented casually as she skipped off in the direction of the house, her sweater flapping behind her.

      To Amadeus, everything’s big, Amanda called from behind her moving daughter and then had second thoughts. Familiars did often know things before humans did. But...something big, huh? You know that for a fact?

      Uh, huh. Otto told me. Told me to keep it quiet, too. At first. But I know it’ll be all right to tell you now because time’s running out, Otto says.

      Oh, Otto again.

      Most witches were given a protector, a familiar, when they were born. The familiar, some magical animal, showed up one day on their doorstep. But Lizzy didn’t have a familiar. None had ever arrived at their door for her. It’d bothered Amanda for years her daughter didn’t have someone to watch over her, or so she’d thought. They’d shared Amadeus. Then one day last year Lizzy announced that, oh, yes, she did have a familiar, but he didn’t live with her, though he was watching out for her in his own way. He was a ghost called Otto and he had many friends–the dead. That’s when Amanda had discovered her daughter not only had unlimited witch powers, she could see and converse to the dead whenever she wanted and the dead were drawn to her.

      Shuddering, Amanda released a held in breath. She’d never cared for shades. They were usually a bane to witches. They were so unpredictable, untrustworthy and...so dead. Ghosts didn’t see things as humans or witches did. They had their own outlook on things and it was slanted. Haunts couldn’t be trusted as far as one could throw a wall, they often had hidden agendas and they tracked grave dirt everywhere.

      The screen door slammed shut and Amanda followed Lizzy in to supper, a premonition chilling her. Something big. She didn’t like the sound of that. Amadeus did have a way of exaggerating situations, though. She was going to have a talk with that familiar of hers when he returned. Of late, her daughter and her cat had begun to keep secrets. Otto, too, had way too much influence. Amanda didn’t appreciate any of it. Lizzy was a child after all and didn’t have the maturity to know when she was in too deep. Her powers were coming too quickly. She needed time to adjust to them and to grow up.

      Mother and daughter had their meal and afterwards they sat on the rear porch in wicker chairs, as they did most evenings, watching the stars through the screens, working on bowls of chocolate pudding with whipped cream, and talking. It was their quality time when Amanda tried to teach Lizzy what being a human and a white witch meant. She made Lizzy’s childhood as normal as possible, magic being the gist of their lives, and avoided using her own powers for the little things as she’d once done. Showing by doing, or not doing, that the child shouldn’t think her powers were for everyday use. It wouldn’t do for Lizzy to vanish on a whim or perform some enchantment in front of her classmates or friends when she was better off blending in. So they did normal human things in the normal human way most of the time.

      Not that Amanda was ashamed of what she was or what she could do but if a witch were smart she’d keep her witchcraft to herself because it made living in the normal world easier. White witches were walking targets to evil anyway, so no need to go neon. And, bottom line, Amanda had to protect her little witch daughter as best she could.

      When it was time for Lizzy to go to bed Amadeus still wasn’t home. That old cat isn’t getting any younger, you know, Mom. He’s ancient, Lizzy pointed out. True, even Amanda wasn’t sure how many centuries old her familiar was. He wouldn’t say. He should be here safe with us. I wonder where he is.

      More like what is he up to now? Amanda thought, but instead said, Heaven only knows. But he’s a wanderer and is most likely out on reconnaissance investigating something or other. He’ll be home. Don’t you fret. That old cat can take care of himself.

      Amadeus misses Mabel, you know, Lizzy murmured later, yawning, half-asleep as Amanda was tucking her into bed. He’s probably at her grave visiting again.

      Mabel was the elderly lady who’d lived with them the last nine years. The old woman had had no one and no place else to go, and she’d been a friend of Jake’s from way back, so Amanda had taken her in. They’d loved Mabel as if she’d been their own flesh and blood and it had devastated them when she’d died in her sleep one night last year. She’d been ninety-one. So she’d had a long life. And her years with Amanda and Lizzy had been good years. The old woman had been needed, loved and cared for. She’d been happy. Her empty Bentwood rocker haunted the circle before the living room fireplace, reminding them every day she was gone. At night Amadeus used to sit in Mabel’s lap as she rocked. She’d sing him lullabies and stroke his thick fur. They all missed her. So far, though, no Mabel ghost and Amanda was glad of it. The old woman deserved her place in heaven and didn’t need to be meandering the world.

      Well, Mom, I wish Amadeus would get back. It’s going to storm.

      Don’t worry, honey. The cat’s okay.

      Lizzy closed her eyes. Yeah, now, I know he is, she muttered sleepily. I see him coming home. Be here in a tiny bit. As young as she was she already could foresee the near future, clearer than any witch Amanda had ever known. Then Lizzy’s breath evened out and she slept. Ah, the innocent slumber of a child.

      Before turning off the light Amanda gazed around her daughter’s room. Lizzy had inherited her mother’s artistic nature and had painted unearthly things–specters, graveyards and a night sky above splattered with stars and phantasmal beings–all over the ceiling and walls. It was so beautiful yet so eerie looking. The artwork was as accomplished as something a talented artist would have created, detailed and perfect. Lizzy had told her she’d woven spells into the paintings to protect herself from beings from the other side which had begun to bother her and her dreams; that the room kept the worst of them at bay. They made her feel safe. So Amanda had never said anything about the way it made her feel. The paintings gave her the willies.

      Leaving off the lights in the house so she could see the outside world better, Amanda slipped on a warmer sweater and went back out onto the porch. Searching for her familiar, she sent out a silent summons. Amadeus return. I need to talk to you. No reply. No sign of him. But if Lizzy said the cat was on his way home, then he was. Lizzy was rarely wrong about such things. All Amanda had to do was wait. The rain began tapping on the porch roof, and the wet wind sang through the leaves. The temperature was dropping.

      Suddenly Amadeus was in her lap, shivering, a fat ball of wet fur. About time you came home, Amanda admonished, but there was no real irritation in her voice. She trusted Amadeus to be away only as long as he had to be.

      I was out scouting. Visiting with the other familiars. Tibby told me to tell you Rebecca says hi. She will be in touch real soon. Gibbewackett has a cold. So does Simon.

      Simon, also a Guardian, was the warlock husband of Amanda’s older sister Rebecca. Gibbewackett was

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