Summary:
Marty Fenner loves magic and wants to be a professional magician when he grows up. His parents hired a magician to perform at his tenth birthday party and he gave Marty a very old snow globe during the last trick of the show. Marty doesn’t know what to do with it and stores it away in his room. When his parents split up, his mother took Marty with her and strange things begin to happen. It seemed to be caused by possible ghosts in the old home where Marty and his mother lived. Or is it the snow globe?
MAGIC IN THE SNOW
A novel by
Francesca M.E.
Chapter 1 – The Beginning
Beware of the mind that seeks too much power, for evil may stir a blizzard of sorrow. – JussME
Isle of Anglesey, Wales, Great Britain, United Kingdom, May 1381
“We do not have much time. We must find him and rid ourselves of this plight,” an elderly Druid priest said, gently tugging at his long white beard.
He and two other Druid priests stood in a grove of sacred oak trees, blending seamlessly into the forest with their heavy, brown woolen cloaks. The rising sun began to lift the fog and early morning dew off the land. Despite a strong smell of spring in the air, the cool dampness of the forest sent chills through the Druids. However, the weather was not the cause of the priests’ discomfort.
“Fret not. We will soon be relieved of this duty. Have no regrets about what we must do. I have seen the one in my dreams. “He lives on the shore of the vast waters,” another Druid said, barely above a whisper, as he tightened his grip on an object he held beneath his cloak.
The three priests nodded to one another and began walking in silence. A glowing white light shone up ahead in the oak forest. They walked into it and disappeared.
~
Upon waking, a muscular, handsome young man with perfect posture who was posing as a hermit stretched outside his beach hut as the sun rose above the ocean.
A piercing white light burned his eyes, and the hermit soon realized it was not the sun. He squinted for protection from the brightness, and when he opened his eyes, three Druid priests stood before him. The hermit instinctually went for his sword in the hut, but a force held him still despite his brawn protesting.
When the eldest Druid tilted back his head and raised his hands, the controlling force holding the hermit had ceased. As the hermit gasped at his freedom, he attempted to flee but paused to address the Druids firmly, “Why have they sent you? I expected the King’s men to come with their swords and malice toward me. Has the King no men left?”
We have not come by the king’s order. We are here for a higher purpose, one that will become your purpose,” another Druid priest added.
“I do not worship your wicked ways! I would rather be captured and have my life taken than bow down to you!” The hermit used his foot to fling sand toward the Druid priests’ eyes in an attempt to escape, but the eldest priest waved his hand, and the coarse sand paused in mid-air before falling. The hermit froze, and not by the hand of the Druid priest.
The soft-spoken Druid opened his cloak and reached inside to take out what he had hidden beneath. The hermit jerked backward in a defensive position but saw it was not a sword but a cloth-covered object. “So, my fate is to be sealed by your evil magic?” He lowered his head and closed his eyes.
Nothing happened, so the hermit cautiously peeked one eye open. He witnessed one of the Druids removing the fabric cover to reveal a glass globe with a wizard figurine inside. Another Druid threw the covering back on with haste.
“Do you need that to end my days?” the hermit asked.
“We have not come to harm you. We require your services and will compensate you accordingly. This globe is a sacred relic in our circle of brothers and is no longer safe. We have chosen you to be its keeper.” The Druid priest, who had been silent, addressed the hermit with his face hidden under a hood. He then methodically lowered it to reveal his identity.
When the Druid did that, the hermit gasped, and his body stiffened. The Druid had only one eye and a scar where the other eye should be, which ran from his forehead to his jaw, resembling a wound inflicted by a sword.
“You? I tried to save you! I was the one who helped you live!” the hermit shouted, moving back towards his hut.
The older priest intervened, “Calm yourself. As my brother said, we are not here to harm you.” With that, he reached into his robe, produced a leather pouch, and handed it to the hermit. “We are willing to pay you handsomely for your service.”
As he felt the weight of the pouch, the hermit licked his lips, perhaps thinking about all the fine meals he could buy with those gold coins.
“I cannot be bought to partake in your wicked ways. Why do you seek me?” The hermit squeezed the satchel angrily and was about to throw it back at the priest, but hesitated.
“We know who you are and why you have chosen to hide here. By helping, you are not following our ways. Those who do not understand our beliefs have tainted our brotherhood’s quest to learn. We do not manifest harm. And the many lies about us have perpetuated fear of the unknown, and it serves no one well.”
The hermit sat down on a rock warmed by the sun’s heat, cradled the gold in his hand, and became lost in thought for a moment before he replied, “Fine. Tell me what I must do.”
The priest handed the covered globe to the hermit. The hermit reluctantly took it and held it in his unsteady hands. He almost dropped it onto the sand, and the cover slipped off it. The liquid inside swished around and disturbed the white flakes below the wizard figurine, and a green glow emitted from inside the globe.
The elder Druid quickly snatched the globe and pushed his wool cloak over it. He spoke loudly, “Please, you must never let the liquid inside be stirred without a cover!”
The hermit took a deep breath while the other two Druids spoke among themselves in a whisper that he could not hear.
“What is that?” the hermit asked in a shaky voice.
The scared Druid priest raised his head and spoke louder, “It holds a powerful wizard, and you must never, no matter what happens or what you hear, speak to it.”
Another Druid interjected, “This wizard is crafty and can trick you into saying things. But, no matter how tempting, you must not accede.”
“Can you do that?” the Druid with the scar whispered, wearing an intense glare.
The hermit pushed his strong shoulders back, lifted his head, and replied, “I have been known to uphold great discipline when it came to my duty to the King in bouts of war. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for my heart. But I assure you, not looking at it or speaking to it will be easy. So, my answer is yes; I can do that.”
“Do not take your obedience to our request lightly,” replied the Druid with the scar.
The elder Druid removed the globe from under his cloak, replaced the cloth cover, and returned it to the hermit.
As the hermit glanced at the covered globe in his hands, it felt warm, and he saw a faint green glow from it, and then he heard the soft sound of laughter. Trembling, he placed the globe on the ground to get it out of his hands, and the cloth fell off it.
“What is this? Tell me what I am to keep!” the hermit shouted with an unsteady voice.
“If you cannot listen to instructions, you cannot help us.” The scarred Druid said and motioned with his head to the soft-spoken Druid, who leaped over, reached down, lifted the globe and cloth, and covered it with haste.
“No!” the eldest Druid priest responded to the scared one. “We must do this and be at peace with our decision. The Great Oak has never failed us before. Listening to her has only brought harmony to our lives.”
“Your argument does nothing to explain this thing and why you have chosen me to keep it!” The hermit said. He stood tall with a stern look.
The Druid priests gave each other a nod.
The scared Druid spoke, “If you are to carry out this burden for us, you should know the truth.” He then nodded to the elder Druid to continue.
“The figurine inside was once a great source of evil in our land, and we had it banished into the globe for all eternity, and you need to keep it safe. Always keep it covered. Construct a box from oak wood and lock it away somewhere safe. And when you cannot keep it anymore, you must find a suitable replacement to continue guarding and protecting the globe,” the elder Druid said.
“Why have you chosen me? Why can’t you keep it?”
“Because you can resist temptation,” replied the soft-spoken Druid.
“Not always,” the hermit said, but his voice got muted by the crashing waves.
The scared Druid heard him despite standing near the water’s edge. “You have been paying for your mistake too long and made amends. We trust you with this task. You need to believe that, too.”
The blinding light reappeared before the hermit could reply, and the Druid priests were gone. The hermit picked up the covered globe and cradled it in his arm while gathering the leather satchel with his other hand. He placed them inside his hut on a wooden table and returned outside.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a gold medallion affixed to a leather cord. It was the medallion given to the Knights of the Round Table. He took a deep breath and relaxed, allowing the beautiful scenery and gentle ocean breeze to calm him. After squeezing the medallion in his palm, he took one more look at it and threw it into the sea with all his might.
“I am no longer who I was,” the hermit whispered as he walked back into his hut.
Chapter 2 – The Little Magician
Real magic exists in the heart and mind.
Cape May, New Jersey, United States of America, June 2013
“Marty shut off that TV! You’ve watched that DVD a hundred times! Go outside and play with Jack. I know you want to learn those magic tricks, but come on!” Marty Fenner’s mother, Heather, hollered from the kitchen.
Sulking, Marty turned it off.
“Mom, I’m gonna be a famous magician one day, and you’re gonna regret making me stop practicing. That’s the only way I’ll get good.”
Heather entered the living room wearing a frown. She hugged Marty close. “I know, but I want you to get some fresh air. Being stuck in this house isn’t doing you any good. Besides, taking a break always helps.” She bent down to look him in the eyes. “How about this? After supper, you can do some magic tricks for your father and me. It’ll be your first performance with an audience!” She smiled and rubbed his shoulders.
Marty pulled away, “Fine, I’ll go outside, but Jack better not poke fun at me because a magician is gonna be at my birthday party. He keeps telling me being ten is great, and now he can stay up past nine, and I don’t want him to think I’m a sissy.”
His mother took him into her arms again. “That’s not going to happen. They’ll think it’s cool that you had a magician at your party. And it’ll be a show your friends won’t forget!”
“I guess,” Marty replied in a sullen tone. “Do you think Jack got his invitation?”
“I’m sure he did. I mailed them a few days ago.”
“Great,” he said with sarcasm.
When Marty left his house, the warm ocean breeze rustled his light brown hair into his eyes. He pushed the hair away and saw Jack playing on his front porch next door. They had been best friends since they could walk, one month apart, but Jack was inches taller than Marty. Jack used his husky build to intimidate and bully the other kids their age and was overly competitive, especially with Marty.
“Hey, Jack.” Marty hesitated, walking up the porch steps like his shoes were cinder blocks.
“Hey, check this out! My grandmother got me this awesome racetrack for my birthday. It can do lots of cool things. Watch this!” Jack set the car on the track and pressed the controller.
Marty watched the car zoom around the track and became mesmerized, lost in his thoughts. I should be practicing my magic tricks to show Mom and Dad.
“Hey, I got your party invitation for Saturday. I’m goin’ just so ya know.”
“I would hope so,” Marty said, rolled his eyes, and shook his head.
“What are we gonna do for fun? It’ll be hard to beat my party at the bowling alley.” Jack
had his hands on his hips and wore a cocky grin that irked Marty.
“My mom got a magician, but I told her it was lame,” Marty said to test the waters to see how Jack felt about it.
“No way! That’s cool! I wonder if he’ll make a car disappear or bring a tiger. Now that would be awesome!”
Marty replied, “Well, I wouldn’t get your hopes up for the tiger, but you never know about the car.”
Marty grinned and tinkered with a racecar. Jack was the only person Marty wanted to impress. He was the coolest kid in school, and everybody in town knew Jack Parsons. They either liked or were terrified of him; most people felt the latter. He drove the shop owners crazy when he rode his bike or skateboard in the outdoor Washington Street Mall, knocking down signs and flower pots. He’d laugh and take off before he got caught. Word got around quickly in the small seaside town that Jack Parsons was a troublemaker.
Anything Jack did, he did it with ease, like the time he jumped two garbage cans with his bike. The kids at school idolized him and talked about that jump for months.
If Jack says it’s cool to have a magician at my party, the other kids will think so too.
Even though Marty was outgoing and well-liked, Jack’s big personality often outshined him. When Marty showed their friends a magic trick, Jack always found a way to ruin it by bragging that he figured it out, and despite repeated attempts to tell Jack to stop doing it, he wouldn’t. So, Marty stopped performing magic tricks around Jack.
Trying to keep interested in playing with the racetrack, Marty put a car on the track and pressed the controller.
“Look how fast my car goes compared to yours! This is the best racetrack ever! I bet no one has one like mine!” Jack exclaimed through clenched teeth as he squeezed the controller.
“No, Jack, no one on this planet has this same racetrack cuz they only made one, just for you.”
Jack completely missed Marty’s sarcasm.
“Yeah, well, maybe there’s more out there, but mine is so much better.”
Marty had had enough.
“Hey, I forgot that I have to do somethin’ for my mom. I’ll see ya later.” Marty ran off the porch.
“Ah, come on, you just got here!” Jack yelled, but Marty was already in his yard.