The Witch of the Western Gate: Dragon's Gift (2 page)

When visiting, Ivy and her parents lived in a luxury penthouse apartment on the top floor of the one and only office building in Lockport. This building at one time was a masonic lodge, but it fell into disrepair and then Uncle Basil bought it and restored it. Few people knew that Basil Stone owned it. Uncle Basil liked to keep a low profile. Last summer he started converting a large suite for his law office, which now was conveniently located on the first floor of the building. He would be opening his law firm in Lockport within a few days. Businesses of various types were on the various floors, including a florist, tax accountant, dentist, and optician. But it made no sense why Uncle Basil would give up his downstate law practice, uproot a reluctant Aunt Elizabeth and hysterical Ivy, and move to upstate western New York. Clearly he was up to something.

“Haven’t you had time to dredge up a boyfriend yet, Ivy? With all the time you spend at the country club?”

"What passes for a country club out here in the backwoods," snorted Ivy. “I know a couple girls in our class, and a few boys, but none so handsome as your friends. The kids I met are all pretty dismal actually.”

Despite herself, Blue was impressed with Ivy dismissing the creme de la creme of Lockport high school society as "dismal." None of the popular kids wanted anything to do with Blue and the feeling was mutual.

Back when she was younger, Blue used to make inappropriate comments, like blurting out things that would happen in the future, or touching someone to heal a cut. The kids never forgot, so now Blue had the label of "weird" and "witch" for life. Plus there were all the stories about Grandma Lily.

“So we walk to school? Every day?” asked Ivy.

“Yes, every day. It's not a far walk. You’re only three blocks from the high school. I’m six blocks away. If you want, my friend Stella and I will stop for you on our way Monday."

“OK," replied Ivy, her voice wavering. Blue felt sorry for Ivy having to enter a new school, and thought that Ivy's discomfort was caused by trepidation. Little did she guess that Ivy simply did not want to be seen with Blue and Stella. “Sure, stop by,” said Ivy.

“Who is this Stella person, anyway? I saw her with Rafe and the boys a minute ago, riding on the horse with Talon. Why did Grandma make her a bag too? Is that the same black girl I’ve seen you walking with to Aunt Violet's shop?” Blue recalled that Ivy could see much of the street life in Lockport from her penthouse windows, especially since she had a telescope.

"Why do you bother watching us when it's clear that me, my life, my friends, Lockport, and all of upstate NY and Canada are far beneath you?"

Ivy sighed, "There's nothing else to do around here."

“Stella is merely my closest girlfriend," replied Blue. "She lives across the street from me. Grandma Lily is friends with her too.”

“The only thing across the street from the McChesney House is that funeral home,” replied Ivy.

"Her family runs the funeral home," replied Blue

"Eeeeeeew!" Ivy snorted in disgust. “You mean she lives in a funeral home?”

“Yes,” replied Blue. “It’s no big deal. The ‘beloved guests’ are down in the basement, either in a prep room or freezer.

“IT IS A FUNERAL HOME!” Ivy exploded. “Prep rooms? Freezers? Gick! You know, dead people?”

“So?” replied Blue. "It’s a part of life and Stella’s family gives a unique service to grieving families and helps them deal with loss. No way was Blue going to mention that Stella often had conversations with the "guests" that enabled her to help the living with real problems, like if there was a will, and where was the key to the safety deposit box. Stella would just act as though the deceased had mentioned it in conversation before they actually passed or she had found a note in their pocket. People thought it odd but accepted the explanation.

"I don't see how anyone can actually live in a funeral home," insisted Ivy.

"It works out fine," replied Blue. "They have a very comfortable home. The "beloved guests," are in the basement. The viewing rooms are on the ground floor. Then there is the family living area on the second and third floors and even a renovated attic that Stella has all to herself. It's a huge mansion with a finished basement, very comfortable, really.”

Blue was not about to mention that Stella had inherited her family’s talent of talking to ghosts, and seeing if a dead person's soul was still there or not. Even the least psychic members of Stella's family could tell if a soul was still with the body. That's why they had gravitated toward the funerary business in the first place. On top of the ordinary family talents, Stella was also a necromancer. Necromancers could command the dead and could raise bodies that would follow her commands. Stella's grandmother had been a necromancer also, and a close friend of Grandma Lily's, but had died when Stella was eleven. Unfortunately, Stella's family could not help her with all the special problems that went along with being a necromancer. They just told Stella to keep her powers hidden or it would cause problems. Someone might kidnap her in order to make use of her gifts. They insisted that Stella wear the black onyx ring left by her Grandmother, since it would block out the ghosts who were always trying to contact her. Stella felt that her family, although meaning well, was trying to make her block out her gifts. Now that Stella was older, it was time for her to come into her full powers, and Grandma Lily was trying to find a necromancer to train her."

“Well, at least Stella has cool hair," Ivy relented. "But you and your friends are so weird,” replied Ivy. “There’s nothing funny about those cute Mantooth boys is there?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, right Ivy, they’re all just werewolves,” Blue retorted sarcastically.

"Time to go girls," Grandma Lily called. "Grandpa Lou will drop you two off back home on his way to the Hawley place."

"What type of pest is he dealing with at the Hawley's?" asked Blue.

"Emergency cockroach problem," replied Grandma Lily. "Mrs Hawley is hysterical. It won't take long, so Grandpa Lou can manage it alone." Blue did not object to missing the Hawley cockroach call, since this would give her time to settle the little dragon and look up information about him in the McChesney Bestiary. Besides, cockroaches were easy to exterminate. Blue glanced out the window and could see Grandpa Lou's herd of mechanical cockroaches marching for the buggymobile. Grandpa Lou loved making new gadgets for his pest control business. The robot roaches, as he called them, were made from a combination of dead cockroach parts and old timepiece gears. They were animated by a spell Grandma Lily put on them and followed simple directions. The cockroaches tramped up close to the trunk then hopped in. Once they were all inside, Grandpa Lou tossed an old blanket over them, and slammed the door shut. He could let them loose at a client's house, and since they also were silent, they'd run all through the house for a few days, spraying insectside on any insects that survived his initial attack. Then they'd simply fly home again. He'd spend about five minutes walking around and spraying insecticide, just for appearances. His mechanical cockroaches did all the work.

"You need to go home and get some rest Blue. The 4-H girls are meeting at your house tomorrow. I'll stop over in the morning to help you get refreshments ready. I'd invite you to the meeting Ivy, but I heard that Elizabeth is taking you school shopping," Grandma mentioned politely.

Elizabeth was Ivy's step-mother. Both Blue and Grandma Lily knew that Ivy had no interest in a 4-H meeting, which was convenient, because it was really a meeting for paranormal girls. Exactly the sort of thing they didn't want Ivy to discover. They always called it "the girl's 4-H meeting" if Ivy was around.

"That's right," agreed Ivy. She started to frantically put on her coat and gloves. Blue knew that no way did Ivy ever want to attend. "I can't disappoint Mummy. She has been looking forward to this shopping trip, after so much unpacking and decorating. We're going to Toronto of course."

"Of course," agreed Blue, as they walked outside together, Blue holding the door.

"Ewwww", said Ivy. "Don't tell me we have to ride in that rusty old truck of Grandpa's that says 'Buggy Man Pest Exterminator,' on the side. I hope no one sees me."

"Tell you what, Ivy, I'll take your photo in the Boogeymobile and will post it on Facebook." Ivy made a face at Blue as she stomped across the driveway then hopped into the rusty SUV and slammed the door.

Blue caught Grandpa Lou's eye and she nodded toward the back compartment where the dragon was in a crate under a blanket. Grandpa Lou gave a nod in return. Blue knew that he could smell the dragon with his heightened werewolf senses, before they even reached the car. Besides, he likely discovered it when he was loading his mechanical cockroaches. He turned his back to the truck for a moment and whispered to Blue.

"That breed of dragon you have in the car is not usually found around here. They mostly live high in deep wilderness areas, near lakes or swamps."

"Its wing is hurt. I'll get him on his way again as soon as I can."

Grandpa Lou nodded.

"You need to get him out of here fast, Blue. The Paranormal Council won't tolerate any magical, legendary critters running around. They'll kill him if they find out."

"Yes, I know. I'll have Aunt Violet check his wing and I'll send him away as soon as possible. Until then I'll keep him hidden."

"Another thing, Blue, I know Ivy is a handful but she's going through a lot now, so let's try to be patient with her," he said.

"Sure Grandpa."

Blue was puzzled. Grandpa Lou so rarely involved himself in other people's affairs. His wolf nature kept him removed from that sort of thing. Not once ever had he paid the slightest attention to the minor squabbles that went on between Blue and Ivy. He left it entirely to Grandma Lily or Aunt Violet to sort out that sort of thing if necessary. He must have been referring to Ivy having to move to Lockport and leave all her downstate friends behind.

Ivy looked suspiciously around the truck. "What is that awful smell in back?" Blue was surprised Ivy had noticed since she couldn't smell anything and the dragon had remained quiet. "Just a raccoon, replied Blue. One to be released out at the game preserve."

"Figures," sniffed Ivy. "It's a stinky old raccoon. It smells like a dead fish. So gross."

Chapter 2

After a short drive, Blue was home. She quickly lugged the crate inside the McChesney house, a large, historical, stick style Victorian. Some say that stick style Victorians are a high Victorian elaboration of the Gothic Revival style. Others say it is a transitional style between Gothic Revival and Queen Anne. Either way, the McChesney house was a masterwork of grey stone, shingles, and planks. The shingles were dark green with small seafoam green scallopped shingles highlighting features, and pale grey-green stick boards outlining the architecture of the house. Vintage ruby paint highlighted the windows, porches and trim. No one ever forgot the McChesney House once they had seen it.

The house had been built by Blue's great-great grandfather and it now belonged to Blue’s father, Cormac McChesney. Cormac and Blue's mother, Rose, had separated years ago and Rose now lived in the Ireland. Blue was old enough to stay alone when her father was away on business and she enjoyed the solitude. Cormac was a powerful sorcerer of the McChesney Clan, which had druidic ties in Ireland and Scotland. Sometimes he returned home exhausted and smelling of brimstone. He was clearly up to something.

Aunt Violet arrived just as Blue got the dragon out of the crate and onto the kitchen floor. It was a struggle to tape the dragon's jaws shut, but he was immobilized now, and held tightly against Blue's chest.

"I don't feel any broken bones," said Aunt Violet, prodding and stroking his wing. "He probably just has a torn muscle or bad sprain, plus this ugly burn." She smeared the burn with medicinal oil then folded his wing up against his body and wrapped it snugly with a warm herbal compress tucked against it.

"We can't wrap this too tight, the blood needs to circulate freely, but its best if there is some support, and he must give it a rest. You will have to change the bandages and apply more medicinal ointment twice each day."

It was useful having a nurse in the family. Aunt Violet was gifted at healing. Besides her job as a visiting nurse, she ran a little shop in town, called The Grey Owl Shoppe. Aunt Violet was a petite woman in her early 40's with flaming red curls cut short. Her nose was too pointy but somehow fit well in her pretty, fine boned face. People mostly remembered her smile and violet blue eyes. Yet her smile rarely reached those lovely eyes, for she had been unlucky in love and had lost her only beau years before. Aunt Violet was better than most witches at hiding her special talent -- healing -- since she was a nurse. She worked as a visiting nurse and ran her own unique gift and tea shop. In her store Aunt Violet sold subtle medicinal teas and charmed gifts, along with charmed cookies, and herbs.

The dragon stopped struggling once Blue stroked his head and telepathically communicated their intentions to him. She let the dragon know that he would be fed and cared for and released as soon as his wing healed. That calmed the dragon and he nuzzled Blue's hand with his soft nose and leaned toward her with his eyes closed. Aunt Violet began to gently massage the little dragon's wing, moving healing energies through. The dragon made soft snuffling sounds and it was apparent that whatever Aunt Violet was doing felt good.

"Took. I'll name him Took," said Blue, "After the most adventurous line of Hobbits. He looks like a Took, doesn't he?"

"I suppose he does," laughed Aunt Violet. "I've never seen such a creature before. Dragons don't live around here. But anything strange is always drawn to Smokey Hollow. Once his wing is better and you release him, little Took will find where he's going. Best if the Paranormal Council doesn't know about this. They take a dim view of anything different."