Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“All the shops and stores along Main Street are managed by the Town Council with the exception of Goldie’s Diner and Goodman Kreeture’s Grocery and Emporium,” she told me. “They decide what businesses they want in the stores and then they put out a magical call for just the right proprietor.”
“But I didn’t come because of any magical want ad,” I protested. “I came to Hidden Hollow running for my life!”
“That doesn’t matter, my dear. Many people with magical talents are drawn here in times of great danger or need,” she said briskly. “And don’t worry about the Town Council, either—they have already approved you and the use of this building for a new Magical Supplies shop.” She winked at me. “I talked to them earlier.”
“Wow—were you really so sure I was coming back?” I asked.
She looked serious.
“Well, after you told me about all the dangerous people and entities that were after you, I rather thought you might change your mind and return to Hidden Hollow. We really are a friendly, lovely little town, you know,” she added. “I think you’ll love it here if you give it a chance.”
I wasn’t sure about that but then, I wasn’t sure about anything. The fact was, I had to get out of New Orleans and nobody else was offering me a home and a new place to set up business.
“Thank you,” I said to Goody Albright. “I’m very grateful for your help.”
“It’s the least I can do for a granddaughter of Giovanni,” she said, smiling. “Now if you’re ready, we can begin.”
She had me stand in the center of the square across from her with the middle candle between us. Then she raised her hands, closed her eyes, and began to speak.
“Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the West,” she called. “We call on thee for guidance and assistance in this, our time of need.”
As she spoke, I saw one of the candles, which had all been unlit up until now, flicker to life.
“Now you,” Goody Albright whispered to me. “Call upon the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the East.”
Feeling strange, I did as she said, repeating the words she’d used exactly. I felt a rush of some kind of power move through me like a wave and then another candle—the one in the Eastern corner of the square—flickered to life.
“Wow—I can’t believe I did that!” I exclaimed.
Goody Albright gave me a mysterious smile.
“Didn’t I tell you that you have power? I knew you were a witch the moment I first met you. And the fact that you already have a familiar just sealed my certainty.”
“But—” I began to protest.
Goody Albright shook her head and put her finger to her lips.
“We must concentrate and finish calling the corners.”
She called upon the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the North next and then I did the South. For a finish, we held hands and Goody Albright said,
“Good and helpful spirits, enter this circle now and lend your ear to what we need.”
As she spoke, the fifth and final candle flickered to life between us and I felt another rush of power filling the space all around us.
I looked around with wide eyes but though I felt a definite presence and heard something like the excited squeaking of mice, there was nothing to see.
“They’re here—can you feel them?” Goody Albright murmured.
“I feel…something,” I confessed. “And I hear them—their little voices sound like mice. They sound excited,” I added.
“Yes, the helpful spirits love to be of use to witches who know their ways,” she said mysteriously. “Now—how well do you know your inventory, my dear?”
“Do you mean in general?” I asked. “Or in particular? Because if I have to name every single herb and crystal and book we have on our shelves—”
“No, no,” she interrupted. “It will be enough for you to just picture the row of books on the shelf—you don’t have to go into detail and name each title. Visualization is key. And once you hold the image in your mind, simply send a request to the helpful spirits and ask them to bring what you’re picturing to you.”
“Okay, I’ll try it,” I said. Closing my eyes, I pictured the rows of books on the shelf behind the counter. Luckily not many had been damaged by the bullets—most of the mayhem from Big Nicky and his thugs had been confined to the very front of the shop.
Taking a deep breath and holding the picture of the shop’s books firmly in my mind, I sent a silent request to the helpful spirits.
“Please bring these things to me,” I asked them. “All the books—please bring them from my shop in New Orleans to the shop here in Hidden Hollow.”
I didn’t know how important it was to be specific but I thought it couldn’t hurt.
I heard a twittering and cheeping in my ears and then a rushing sound as though all the spirits had left at once.