Merry Chris Witch



  This one’s for my mom. May the echoes of winter cheer surround you throughout the year. I love you.

  Copyright © 2015 by CK Dawn

  All rights reserved.

  Merry Chris Witch is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products mentioned within this work.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Editor: Celine Fowler

  Cover Art: Karri Klawiter

  Dedication

  ‘Twas the Night Before

  Bah Humbug

  Oh the Weather Outside is Frightful

  I’m Dreaming of

  Santa Claus is Coming to Town

  Dashing Through the Snow

  Epilogue: He’s Making a List

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek: Cloak of Echoes

  Books by CK Dawn

  ‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the realms

  Magic creatures were stirring, all feeling overwhelmed;

  Stockings were hung, there was no time to spare,

  But St. Nicholas fell ill and wouldn’t be there;

  Children were nestled and slept unaware;

  That Christmas was cancelled while elves felt despair.

  I’m only a witch what could I possibly do?

  Except try and save Christmas along beside you;

  We traveled the world making such a clatter,

  But I was with you so nothing else mattered.

  Away to the first house we flew like a flash,

  And tore the tree down creating a loud crash.

  We soon got our rhythm in the fresh fallen snow,

  Delivering presents to the unsuspecting below,

  Name after name on the Nice List disappeared,

  As we traveled the world sharing our holiday cheer.

  I’ll let you in on a privy if you listen quick,

  She may not be Santa, but her name is still Nick;

  To learn her tale you’ll have to turn the page,

  And weather the storm that comes with her age;

  As my homage to Clement Moore comes to a close,

  I hope my love for the holiday truly does show,

  For a witch I may be and magic where I dwell--

  But I wish you a Merry Christmas and a fare-thee-well.

  Magic is real and dreams do come true.

  Be careful what you Witch for.

  “Chris, get up! It’s time for school,” mom shouted to my closed door. “Don’t make me tell you again!” I could hear her aggravated footsteps as she headed to the kitchen. Her irritation with me was amplified by the loud cabinet door slams and huffs under her breath.

  “Ugh, but it’s too cold,” I moaned. Ugh! And too close to Christmas! My parents kept our house too chilly in the winter months for my taste, but I started to wake up anyway. I knew not to push my luck with my mom. Being cold first thing in the morning sucked, but that wasn’t it, not really. I hated the holiday season more. All the red, white, and green decorations everywhere made me want to hurl.

  Throwing the covers off I stumbled out of bed and made my way down the hall to the bathroom to pee. Without giving it a glance or a thought, I waived my hand towards my bedroom on the way. My rumpled comforter uncurled itself and re-covered the flat and fitted sheets. The pillows sat up against my headboard and plumped themselves. My clothes from the day before floated through the air and into the hamper, and my shoes walked themselves into my closet. Everything was tidy again, just the way mom liked it, and without me having to lift a finger. Well a wave of my hand and five fingers, but who’s counting?

  “Christopher Aspen Heron! Did you just use magic to make your bed?” My mom’s voice scolded from the kitchen.

  Crap! What was I thinking? “No,” I lied, coming to a stop in the hallway and trying not to pee myself.

  “Well, I’m not making buttercream frosting in here. I can smell your casting all the way in in this kitchen, young man! Do you want to get kicked out of this school too? No underage magic in the human world means NO underage magic in the human world, period! Not even here in the house. Do you hear me?”

  “Sorry, mom,” I said, rushing into the bathroom. Closing the door, I rolled my eyes, half from emptying my bladder and half for being so careless and using magic outside of school. I flushed and looked at myself in the mirror. That was stupid, Chris, but man do I need a haircut. My shaggy light brown curls were down to my eyelashes almost covering my hazel eyes and bordering on what girls liked to call cute. Ugh! I hate that word. Best to have mom trim me up, but not today. Instead, I grabbed my favorite New York Yankees baseball cap and threw it on. It had been a souvenir from my dad after going to our first human baseball game together when I was a kid right after our move to the city. A time before I had come into my powers and a time before I kept getting myself into trouble with said powers.

  I threw my clothes on in a hurry. Today I wanted to get out of the house as fast as possible after my relapse of magic use. Mom and Dad had always been pretty loose with the no underage magic rule around the house once I came into my powers. That was until I went and screwed everything up on Halloween. It sucked not being able to use my powers in the privacy of our house anymore, but I guess that was part of my punishment and I’d just have to deal. Brushing my hand down my jaw I shook my head. Can’t stay in here all day and avoid the inevitable. I could already hear the lecture that was coming. ‘Nothing good comes from always taking the easy way out, Chris. You may have come into your powers early but magic isn’t a toy. That’s why there are rules in place. Honestly, young man, you keep this up and you’re well on your way to having your powers stripped and being forced to attend human school!’

  Ugh! I argued with myself. I thought being expelled from coven private school the day after Halloween had been the worst day of my life. I was wrong. The day I started magic public school six weeks ago had been much, much worse. I was the only witch surrounded by elves, fairies, trolls, and every magical creature imaginable all hyped up on Christmas cheer. Virtually all of them were gearing up for the Christmas season too. Elves proudly helped their parents make toys, fairies conjured more pixie dust than the reindeer could ever use to fly in ten lifetimes. Trolls were brushing up on their merry mischief making. Even mermaids were getting in on the holiday cheer, singing their cheerful songs. And then there was me, an out of place witch that hated Christmas. Okay, maybe hate was too strong a word, but I was at least allergic to it.

  I was in a mood. The man in the red suit had infringed on my Halloween parade and it had been getting worse every day since. Christmas sucked and the decorations always came out too soon. Every year, just as soon as the weather got cooler, stores put out Christmas junk with barely a mention of Halloween, my favorite holiday, like ever! Does Christmas really need three months to celebrate? I mean, like really? Come on! And when they do put out Halloween stuff it’s so sickening sweet and cutesy that I want to vomit. I mean what guy in his right mind wants to wear a pointed witch’s hat and carry a broom or worse yet, pretend we’re glittery vampires? Can we say, lame? So, I had conjured myself a ghastly costume that was sure to win the contest of this human party I had heard about. I figured I might also get some swoons from the ladies. Once I
was at the party, I may have even accidentally on purpose slowed time, but only a little, just to make the party last a little bit longer. What can I say? My costume had been a hit and I was getting attention from some major hotties, I wasn’t ready for the fun to end.

  I thought I was so smart and had everything all figured out. No one at the party should have been able to detect my tiny use of magic. I hadn’t expected the Reagent of all the covens to be at the party mingling with humans and he hadn’t expected any underage witches to be using magic that powerful in their presence. Without even a glint of a warning my punishment was handed down and carried out swiftly. Immediate expulsion from coven private school and probationary enrolment in public school for magical beings. And why did my spells have to smell like butter cream frosting anyway? Why couldn’t I have gotten something cool like Lynne Monty had gotten? She got winter pine and I smell like cupcakes! I swear the powers that be swapped them just for shits and giggles. Hell, I would have even settled for the fudge brownie smell like the guy from the T.V. show Warehouse Thirteen used to vibe on. Now that would have been cool! But, I guess it didn’t matter in the long run. Spell smells were like acne in teenagers, mature a bit and they go away, or so my parents told me. Well that couldn’t come fast enough. I was over the acne and frosting. And all the holiday cheer made me want to ho-ho-hurl. The only thing good about the holiday season if you asked me? Christmas day happened to be my birthday.

  *

  In the end the lecture from mom hadn’t been too bad, stern looks mostly. She was probably going to wait for my dad to have a long talk with me. I rolled my eyes as I jumped off the cold New York streets and down the steps to the subway station. A few snowflakes fell from the sky and were carried on the wind currents by all the humans bustling around me. One of the snowflakes landed on my nose and melted. I could have sworn it had the faint but lingering scent of sweet peppermint. Being a witch and having some pretty powerful nature elementals on mom’s side of the family, I knew that sometimes a change in the weather meant something magical was taking place. I wondered if it meant the rumors were true. I’d heard that Santa Claus’ son Kris Kringle Jr, the golden boy as I liked to call him, was going to grace us with his presence at school today and boost morale. As if the elves had any emotion besides cheer and needed a pick-me-up! I swear they had eggnog running through their veins and showered in sugar sprinkles using peppermint pep shampoo.

  I pulled my subway card from my pocket as I neared the gates. Its golden flecks shimmered, just like the air of the magic realm. I never tired of seeing the two worlds merge at hubs like the subway station. Humans going about their daily lives, traveling to and from work, and oblivious to the magical world all around them. I gave a little chuckle wondering if humans ever thought it curious that at least two ticket turnstiles in every train and subway station all over the world never worked and were continuously ‘out of order.’

  “Hey, Sam, how’s life treating you?” I tossed some quarters into his metal donation cup. Sam was in his usual spot sitting up against the tile wall as heavy pedestrian traffic passed by. He called it prime real-estate for a vagabond like himself.

  “Hey ya, Yankee Chris, how you doing today?”

  “Can’t complain. Oh, they’re having a sale at your favorite deli down the street,” I offered.

  “Oh, oh, thanks for that.” Sam tipped his cup to me, “And for these, as usual.”

  “See you tomorrow, Sam?”

  “Of course, of course. See ya tomorrow, Yankee Chris, and Merry Christmas!”

  I cringed but waved as I passed. I knew Sam meant well with his holiday cheer, but still. Just, ugh! Stupid, Christmas.

  As I headed toward the out of order turnstiles the edges of the human world began to shimmer and shift, and just like that, I was enveloped by the magic realm where everything glowed in a golden light. Just as soon as I had been seen entering the area, humans forgot me that much quicker as I phased out of their world undetected and became part of the invisible magic realm.

  Sam dumped the quarters into his hand and looked around wondering where they had come from. Later he would vaguely remember talking to me, maybe even remember me giving him the change, but he wouldn’t remember that I disappeared into thin air. No one would. Scratching his head, Sam put the quarters in the pocket of his green and red flannel shirt, and greeted another person he knew.

  Human sounds muffled and mortal men and women became transparent as fairies and sprites buzzed by sometimes flying right through an unknowing human or two. I spotted three of my friends from coven school and waved. They waved back sadly as they went through the first turnstile and awaited the subway to my old school. They weren’t allowed to talk to me, not really. That hadn’t been part of my official punishment, but coven parents were a protective bunch. They didn’t want my bad influence rubbing off on their kids I suppose.

  My heart started beating faster as I veered away from the second turnstile and headed to the wrong gate intentionally, straight toward the first gate that would take me to my old school. I hadn’t planned on playing hooky, but I wanted to see my friends and--

  Something tiny with immense strength grabbed my collar and nearly lifted me off the ground as it pulled me back to the second turnstile. Crap! I knew I was in trouble.

  “Chris Heron, I hope you weren’t thinking of skipping my class today?” A voice incongruent with the gossamer appearance of this small creature boomed and echoed off the walls of our underground station. Tiny wings beat the air like a hummingbird in flight, but this fairy had the strength of the Hulk, if he were actually real of course. Her miniature frame and white ethereal glow stood in direct opposition of the force of nature she truly was. I recognized who she was by her strength even before she had buzzed by my head and scoffed.

  “No, Miss Bell,” I lied.

  “Good!” And with that she flew ahead of me into the terminal. Several young fairies said their hellos to her on their way to work and magic school.

  “Good morning, Miss Bell,” a teacher greeted her.

  “Hiya, Tink,” said one of the fairies in charge of harvesting pixie dust.

  Yep, Tinker Bell was a real life fairy and she’d been around for a long time. She wouldn’t admit to it now but she had been known to conjure and use magic in the human world when she was younger too. A human had actually even written stories about her. But I knew not to get her started on the movies and cartoons, not if I wanted to live to see my next birthday. Now she taught Environmental Conservation and Conjuring at public school for the magically gifted and was also my new principal.

  I passed my golden subway card over the scanner of the second turnstile Miss Bell had directed me to and entered the station. Just out of phase, my friends’ navy uniforms disappeared into a sea of coven blues as they all got on the subway car destined for my old private school. The doors swished closed and the yellow seal representing all the covens served as a stop sign on the doors, blocking my entrance. Okay, I get it already. I’m not welcome. I waved goodbye to my friends and waited for the next subway car that unfortunately wouldn’t be out of phase. As if it heard me, my car rolled through the terminal and occupied the same space as the covens’ before it started to move and left the station. It was surreal watching the two subway trains occupy the same space momentarily. They represented my two worlds. One that rejected me and the other I couldn’t wait to get out of. A heavy rock felt like it had dropped into the pit of my stomach as I wondered if I’d ever be allowed back into school with the rest of the witches.

  Entering the subway car destined for magic school I took a seat and tried to tune out everyone’s Christmas cheer that seemed to have me surrounded. The car finally took off like a bullet down the track giving me a welcome distraction. We emerged from the dark tunnel into the golden light of the magic realm. Fields of flowers in every color imaginable blanketed the ground for miles around. Giant yellow sunflowers were tracking the sun and pink morning glories were yawning and stretching.
Fairies were flying above the giant petals, harvesting the pollen for pixie dust and potion production. Magic realm cell towers floated above the fields here and there ensuring reception for our phones no matter what realm we were in.

  Just then Mom texted, hoping I would have a good day at school. I knew she was worried about me. She knew I was having a rough go of it these past few weeks. She even wrote that she was making my favorite for dinner tonight, chicken spaghetti. My stomach grumbled, but even chicken spaghetti wasn’t enough to cheer me up. I winced as I watched the coven train veer to the right up into the mountains toward my old school as my train headed down towards a dark damp tunnel. The tall purple and blue spires of the school followed the mountain’s silhouette seamlessly. The tallest peak was one of my favorite places to hang out with my friends. We’d sit up in the old library for hours thinking up new potions and spells to try. But the mountain and my old school disappeared as we entered the bleak tunnel.

  With a loud thud the troll car attached as we continued on to school without even having to stop. The doors connecting the two cars swooshed open and one of the trolls made his usual daily trek to the first car. I didn’t know his name; never cared to ask. He claimed he got car sick sitting all the way in the back. His footsteps echoed and rattled the car as he walked by me. I didn’t know many of my new schoolmates by name. To me, being in public magic school was only temporary. I was determined to get back into coven school. So that’s what I focused on.

  Next came the underwater tunnel as the mermaids’ subway cars attached to the end of the line. The color of the water outside the windows reminded me of the purplish blue stones of my old school. My mind drifted back to the tallest spire, wondering what potions my friends would try and come up with without me. I bet they were still working on the potion that would make it snow fireworks. I missed Blake, Tim, and Matt. Heck, I even missed Lynne. As I thought about my friends I closed my eyes and must have drifted to sleep.