Cables and Conjurers: Vampire Knitting Club by Nancy Warren

Author:Nancy Warren [Warren, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ambleside Publishing
Published: 2024-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

Lavender, soothe with your gentle peace.

Rosemary, let all shadows cease.

With this charm, I weave protection,

A guardian’s light in your direction.

By leaf and petal, root and stem,

Safe you’ll stay, shielded from harm.

As I will it, so mote it be.

This is my will, blessed be.

Jennifer and I chatted on the way home about how rude Margaret Twigg was (very).

And how untruthful Anthea was (also, very).

“Should we confront Anthea?” Jen asked. “What she’s doing seems dishonest.”

“I don’t know.” I didn’t feel like embarrassing her in front of the class, but neither did I relish confronting her in private. It was a dilemma. “Do you remember the intense discussion Geoff Turner was having with her over breakfast? Maybe that’s what they were talking about. I wonder if he’d already figured out she was lying. She definitely didn’t look happy. Perhaps we don’t need to say anything.”

“Let’s sleep on it,” Jen agreed. She patted her sachet. “And maybe if we sleep with this under our pillows tonight, it will help with clarity as well as protection.”

One good thing about a day of classes, followed by a stressful meeting and capped off with a couple of hours of late-night gardening, was that I was very sleepy when I returned to my college dorm room.

I walked in, stifling a yawn, and then paused. I instantly felt as though something was off.

I glanced around, but the room looked exactly as I had left it. The window was open enough that Nyx could come and go if she wanted to, though I didn’t see any evidence of her in the room. What was it? I felt unsettled and uncomfortable. I felt an urge to turn around and run. My best guess was my friend Cornelius had another surprise for me inside my cupboard. What would it be this time? Dancing monkeys, flying unicorns, lions giving me flowers? I went forward and opened the doors. There was definitely something in there, but what was it? I kneeled down and peered inside.

It looked like there was a man lying curled up inside my cupboard. I stared at him for a moment. He was facing towards me, his head tilted down, so his beard brushed his chest, knees curled in and his hands folded quite literally as though he had fallen asleep in my closet. Then I peered more closely at the face. It was Geoff Turner. What on Earth was Geoff doing in my closet? He didn’t look as though he was sleeping. He looked more like he was dead.

I shook my head. “Stop it,” I said aloud. It was an illusion, a conjurer’s trick, that was all. Cornelius Coomb was escalating the visions, letting me know that he could do something scary and dark as well as light and humorous. And I for one was not amused.

I sat there for a minute staring, but the illusion didn’t disappear. I said aloud, “Go away.” But that didn’t work either. Finally I reached out. No conjurer was good enough that there would be substance to the vision.

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