might be new to this magic thing, but I knew I could be helpful. I had taken karate for three years when I was in elementary school, and kickboxing for four years in college. There were some problems magic couldn’t solve and I was ready to face them.
“We should all go,” Mr. Barnes chimed in.
“That might draw too much attention,” Violet said.
“Susie will come with me,” Aunt Erma said firmly. “We’ll go and see what’s happening and report back.” Everyone nodded. I noticed that when Aunt Erma talked, people tended to agree with her.
“And I’ll keep an eye on you through the security cameras,” Violet said, pointing at the computer screen. She had paused the image on Dennis and Brenda, and I glared at them, trying to build up my confidence. If I could keep myself from being afraid of their image, then I could definitely take them on in person. I tried not to think about Brenda’s eyes.
“I’m going to need a little time to get ready,” Aunt Erma said. I saw calculating curiosity in Violet’s eyes.
“Fine,” she said with one curt nod. “But hurry.”
We emerged from the basement and headed our separate ways. Something about the way Flora hugged me before I left made my stomach clench. How dangerous was this going to be?
“Come with me.” Aunt Erma grabbed my hand and led me to her car.
“Are we going now?” I asked, unable to keep the panic out of my voice.
“No,” she said. “There’s something I want to show you.” I got in the car.
“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” Aunt Erma ran to the pie shop. She only seemed to have one speed: fast. A minute later she appeared with her dog, Mitzy, close at her heels. Mitzy was a brown ball of fluff with boundless energy. Her large, expressive brown eyes reacted when you talked to her, showing a level of understanding that I often found unsettling.
Aunt Erma opened the back door and Mitzy hopped in. Her tail was wagging so hard I thought she might take flight.
“Mitzy loves a good car ride,” Aunt Erma explained. The dog heard her name and somehow took it as an invitation to leap from the back seat into my lap.
“Hi, Mitzy,” I said flatly. I loved Mitzy, really, but I was still getting used to this furry licking creature who lived life as if she did a shot of espresso every hour.
Aunt Erma drove through Hocus Hills, which currently looked as though Father Christmas had thrown up on every street corner. Lights twinkled on every tree and bush and along the front of every shop. I didn’t see a single door without a wreath and a very elaborate winter wonderland had been set up in the town square complete with nine reindeer, several elves, and Christmas fairies. There were also banners all over town advertising the upcoming snowman-building contest. “Erma’s Pies” was one of the sponsors, and Aunt Erma had been making me practice my snowman-building skills for the last two weeks.
We drove out of town and hit the highway.
“Where are we going?” I asked. The old, light blue car was finally warm, and I sank back into the brown velvet seats. Mitzy had settled down in my lap. Her previous excitement seemed to be wearing off.
“You’ll see,” Aunt Erma said. She turned up the volume on the radio and Christmas songs filled the car. She sang “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” at the top of her lungs. I’d learned how to sing from her – off key, but enthusiastic. Her energy was infectious and soon I was singing too. Mitzy groaned disapprovingly and moved to the back seat of the car. I would have to remember to sing loudly next time she was bugging me.
We exited the highway and turned down a narrow, wooded road. The dark green pine trees contrasted beautifully with the white snow and silver bark of the birch trees. The trees got thicker and we turned down an even more narrow dirt road. The tires crunched against the gravel and I bit my tongue, trying to resist the urge to ask where we were going again. Finally Aunt Erma pulled over as far as she could, which wasn’t far on this skinny stretch, and put the car in park.
“Is this it?” I asked, looking around expecting to see something more than trees and snow.
“Yes. Follow me.” She got out of the car, and Mitzy flew over the seat to follow her. I opened the door and wrapped my red coat tighter around my body. I shivered against the cold air.
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing yet?” I hurried to keep up with her. She was half a foot shorter than I was and twice my age, but she walked so fast! I was sure her speed was the result of some sort of magic, but when I’d once asked her she’d winked and said, “It’s not magic. It’s yoga.”
I really had to start going to more of Mr. Barnes’s yoga classes this winter. Or I was going to have to stop walking with Aunt Erma.
Mitzy was frolicking in the snow but still managed to keep up. I hopped over sticks and tried to step exactly in Aunt Erma’s footprints, so the deep snow didn’t go over the edge of my short boots. We didn’t seem to be following any path, and I couldn’t imagine a building would pop up in these deserted woods. Where in the world could she be taking me? Aunt Erma stopped so abruptly and I was hurrying so fast behind her that I ran into her, unable to stop my momentum.
“Sorry,” I said, scratching my nose, which had bumped against her tall fuzzy white hat.
“We’re here,” she said with a satisfied nod.
“We’re in the middle of the woods,” I said, glancing around, wondering which of us was going nutty.
“There.” She pointed ahead of us.
I squinted and saw a small tree, just a few feet taller than me. It had green, red, and silver baubles hanging from the branches. Even in the dead of winter, it still had all its leaves. The leaves were thick and waxy and almost looked fake, and the light brown bark seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. The winding branches danced in the breeze and the baubles tinkled together.
“What is it?” I asked, hoping she wouldn’t just answer with the obvious: “A tree.”
“It’s a magic tree,” she said, providing an ever so slightly better explanation than I was hoping for.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What’s a magic tree, and why does it have ornaments on it?”
“I decorated it for Christmas,” she said with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders. I nodded. That was a very Aunt Erma thing to do. She carefully touched one of the leaves, and the branches began to rustle a little harder, which was strange, as the wind hadn’t picked up.
“You’ve probably heard a few murmurings around town about how powerful my spices are,” she began slowly.
“I’ve heard a thing or two,” I answered. That was definitely an understatement. Aunt Erma’s magic was one of the most talked about “secrets” around town.
“I’ve always been pretty powerful,” she said. She wasn’t bragging, just stating a fact. “However, I found a way to be even more powerful.” She gestured to the tree with a flourish of her arm. “It came to me in a dream one night. After I saw it, I woke up, got in my car, and somehow, I just knew where to go. I ended up here. This tree contains more magic than I ever even
