The Guardian of Misty Hollow

By Patricia M. Bryce

When Nora Belfry's great-aunt Winnie passes away, she leaves the bulk of her estate to Nora, including her beloved Arts and Crafts style cottage out in country. What Nora doesn't learn until she takes possession of the house is, she has also inherited Winnie's role as Guardian of the Misty Hollow. She soon discovers that the Guardian is a role filled by a long line of Belfry witches. Unfortunately, Nora is also learning for the first time that she is this generation's Belfry Guardian. With the help of an Elf, a Celtic shaman and a Troll Mage, Nora has eight weeks to transform from a quiet bookstore clerk into a powerful witch. If she fails, a monster known as Garnel will be released and the entire world will be doomed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia M. Bryce
• Release date: May 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393852353

Patricia M. Bryce

Patricia M. Bryce is a short story author, novelist and cosplayer. She has appeared as Patricia M. Rose in the anthology, Dreams of Steam: Gadgets, edited by Kimberly Richardson and published by Dark Oak Press. When she's not busy writing, she's off being a playtron up at Bristol Renaissance Faire. You can learn more at https://www.facebook.com/PaisleyRose1

Book preview

(c) 2020 Patricia M. Bryce

Revised version

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the permission

of the publisher.

Cover Design by SB Designs

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Dedicated to Syd

Without whom this story wouldn’t have an end.

The Belfry family Tree

Thomas Belfry; born 1815; Founder of the Belfry Foundry in Chicago

Agnes Belfry nee MacFee, born 1820

First born son Thomas II, born 1840

Agatha, born 1843 (The First Belfry Guardian of the Hollows)

Samuel, born 1850

Thomas II

Marries Elizabeth Moore 1866

offspring

Charles 1868

Sarah  1870

James 1872

Anna 1874 (The second Belfry Guardian)

Edwin 1876

Charles Marries 1880, Mary Logan

offspring

Jonathan 1885

Harriet 1888 (The third Belfry Guardian)

Martin stillborn

Robert 1890

Ann 1893

Jonathan Married Williamina Brown 1908

offspring

John 1909

Winifred 1911 (The Fourth Belfry Guardian)

Albert 1914

Abigail stillborn

George 1917

William 1920

John marries Agatha Moran 1935

offspring

John the second born, 1938

Mary Kate 1940

Edward 1945

John the second married Martha Roberts

offspring

John the third

Mary Kate Married David James Logan

offspring

Constance

David Jr.

Edward Married Rose Ryan

offspring

Nora   (The Fifth Belfry Guardian)

CHAPTER1.

To my grandniece, Constance Logan, the lawyer droned on monotoned as he read the will. I leave the sum of ten thousand dollars. Oblivious to the people he was reading to, or their reactions. And to my grandnephew, David Logan, I leave the sum of ten thousand dollars and not a cent more. May they both be happy with their inheritance.

Nora Belfry stole a timid, sideways glance at her cousin, Connie, who didn’t look impressed. In fact, as far as Nora could see Connie hadn’t expressed any emotion, outside of utter boredom. Aunt Winnie had been very generous to everyone so far. She’d remembered her nieces, nephews, and their children, she’d even remembered children of second cousins. Connie’s complete lack of gratitude perplexed Nora. She had expected it of David, but not Connie.

Connie sat there, in her red power suit, looking like she couldn't wait to leave. She was perfectly coiffured with a manicure to match her suit. Nora thought she’d even seen her check her watch once or twice and her toe tap impatiently. David, sitting beside her had a smug expression on his weaselly long face. Neither of them looked like they belonged there among the mourners, neither of them had tried appearing grateful for having been remembered. Instead, Connie gave the appearance of having been inconvenienced, like she’d rather be in a meeting or showing a property. Nora remembered another time when Connie looked like this and a chill ran through her as she forced the memory back where it was usually hidden. Reminding herself that this was Connie, Uncle John’s favorite next to his son.

The lawyer turned the last page of the document on his desk, To my grandniece, Nora Anne Belfry— Nora stopped looking at her cousins and turned her attention to the executor of the will.  I leave the bulk of my estate. My property, my stocks and bonds, and all my remaining worldly possessions will go to Nora Anne Belfry, who never forgot me and never ask for anything more than my love.  Nora held her breath. Had she heard right? Had he just said the bulk of Winnie's estate was now hers? What did this mean? What stocks and bonds? Winnie had stock and bonds?  What worldly possessions? Property? Did that mean the cottage? Nora, nearly overwhelmed by the generous bequest, took a moment to process what she’d just heard.

The man behind the desk looked at the assembled members of Winifred Belfry’s family. Any questions?

How soon do I get the cash? Connie asked coldly.

Nora turned in her seat to stare at her cousin. Connie! She gasped before she could stop herself.

The dark-haired woman in the red power suit stood out among the rest of the mourners in somber shades of black, blue and brown. She glared back at Nora with indifference—no, make that vehemence—causing Nora to pull back in her chair in genuine fear. Connie’s quick anger had always frightened Nora, who had often been a favorite target. Right now, she was sure that the anger was aimed directly at her. As a child, Nora had always had an irrational fear that Connie could lash out and do her harm. As a child Nora had known that if it happened, she was likely to be the one blamed, not Connie. Today, that fear returned in spades. She recoiled quickly.

Nora knew that, in the family, Connie was considered far more important in the pecking order. She worried that perhaps her cousin was feeling cheated, and she quickly tried to mollify her. I know you must have thought she was leaving the house to you— She stammered nervously.

That dilapidated shack? Connie’s disdain wasn’t hidden, she turned full face to Nora. Now, that would have been an insult.

Nora blinked; she couldn’t have heard the other right. Connie, she said softly. How can you say that? Don’t you remember all the great times we had, spending the summer with Aunt Winnie? A flood of happy memories from her youth rushed forward. Golden memories, of moments when she was happy and carefree, and thought that everyone around her was also.

Connie glared at Nora, making her feel mousy and small in comparison. Great times? What great times? I hated spending summers in that shack, being dragged up and down those ravines and battling mosquitoes. It’s a wonder none of us ever broke a leg or came down with encephalitis. She stood, knowing her stature over Nora was intimidating. It had just the effect Connie was looking for, Nora cringed and pulled back. And if you had a brain in that head of yours, Nora, you’d be insulted that she dumped that rotting hovel on you.

Nora knew she was expected to cower, to give in and allow Connie to intimidate her; to do whatever it was that Connie was about to instruct. Under ordinary circumstances, she might have complied with their history. Constance and her brother David had always known how to bully her, how to bend her to their will. Constance was the eldest of the three cousins who had spent summers together with their spinster great aunt, with her charisma she was a natural born leader. David had been and was still her more than willing toady, while Nora, often was their victim. She had always excused it because they were family.

The memories of her childhood, her summers spent at Winnie’s cottage in the woods had been precious to Nora, more than that, they were treasured. She had created an illusion in her mind that they had meant as much to Connie as they did to her. Hearing Connie’s sarcastic accusation shattered those illusions once and for all. Scales fell from her eyes and she saw Connie’s true self, just as Winnie must have. She didn't like what she saw. She didn't like the way either of her cousins had been or were. A chill ran through her as she looked at the resentment emanating from Connie’s eyes.

But don’t worry, Nora; I’ll get you out of this... just as I’ve gotten you out of every other mess in the last six years. Connie boasted in a hard-hearted manner. She stood there, arms crossed and looking down at Nora, who was still pulled back in her seat. Connie's eyes were full of contempt and loathing. Not even a hint at an attempt of being civil. "It so happens, I’ve got a buyer for that run-down property, and with the money from the sale we can finally get you into something decent in town. Not perhaps as stylish as my place, but it will be a leg up from what you have. Connie’s eyes narrowed and pursed her lips, All you have to do is sign your name..."

Nora couldn’t believe her ears. No. she replied quietly. Slowly, Nora began to shake her head. It was the first time she'd disagreed with an edict from Connie. For the first time in her life she wasn't willing to be told what to do, what to think. Not by Connie, not this time. Not about the cottage, not about Misty Hollow. Suddenly Nora realized the happiest of her memories with Winnie at Misty Hollow didn’t include Connie or David. Her happiest memories at the Hollow were when she was on her own with Winnie.

I’ll have papers all drawn up, you don’t have to do a thing, Connie went on; Nora realized she hadn't even heard her. Connie never bothered to listen, not when it came to Nora. Only her own thoughts were important, but all that was coming to an end, here and now.

No, she repeated, a bit more forcefully. Nora reached forward; her hand gripped the back of the chair that Aunt Mary Kate occupied. This time the refusal got Connie’s attention.

A flicker of contempt showed in her eyes as Connie stubbornly ignored the refusal. You should be grateful to me, finding a buyer in this market... She began her usual logical argument, berating Nora, calculating that logic was never one of Nora’s strong suits.

Nora stood up. "I said, no," she said louder and more forcefully than she’d ever spoken to her cousin. When Connie stared at her, Nora repeated defiantly, "I said, no. And I mean no."

Connie raised one brow. You can’t mean to tell me, that you’re actually happy about this... so called inheritance.

But, I am. Nora smiled, "I am happy that Aunt Winnie thought of me at all. I think it was sweet of her to want to give me her house, her home. She knew how much I love that house. How I treasured the memories of being there."

The dark-haired woman in the red suit shook her head, "She left you a shack, that by all rights should be condemned, in the middle of a bug-ridden swamp! Nora could see the pity in her cousin’s eyes, and she wondered how it was she and David saw the cottage so differently. Think of all the disadvantages to that hovel, the plumbing alone will cost a fortune to have brought up to code, and you don’t have a fortune. Do you? The remark was meant to sting, pointing out once more that Connie’s father had been more successful than Nora’s. You're flat broke, last I recalled. I’ll wager you don’t have more than a thousand dollars in the bank. It’ll take a lot more than that to fix that shack, I can tell you."

Connie, Nora reasoned, It’s not nearly as rustic, or as primitive as you’re making it out.

It’s not where an up-and-comer should live! Connie insisted.

I’m not an up-and-comer, Nora blurted out. I’m not a big-time, high rolling, wheeling, dealing realtor like you. I’m just a little clerk, in a locally owned bookstore. I don’t need a fancy place downtown, and I don’t want that kind of life. That's you, not me.

Don’t you want more out of life than you've had? came the inquiry with venom. Don’t you want to be something more than just a clerk? Connie demanded, badgering her. You went to college; you got a degree... why aren’t you using it? Nora had no answer. If you’re waiting for some knight on a charger to come over the horizon to save you, you’d better wake up toots, and smell the coffee. This is no fairy tale! Now listen to me, I’m going to sell that property and you’re going to sign it over, do you hear?

No. Nora said again, standing her ground. I’m not going to do that.

David leaned over the chairs in front of him. Ladies, you’re making a spectacle of yourselves. He said. The lawyer who had read the will was frowning. Nora, ready to let it go, turned away. She didn't think Connie would want a scene.

Connie took a long cleansing breath. You need time to think this over, she said calmly before turning to the lawyer. So, when do we receive our bequests? Her ability to switch back to the ice princess so quickly amazed Nora. One moment she was a fire breathing dragon, the next a tower of ice. Nora pitied anyone who came up against her.

I’ve certified checks for each of the monetary bequests. Those present, will receive them now, those not, will have them mailed to them or direct deposited. He assured her tapping several envelopes on his desk, then turned to Nora. I’d like a word with you when we are finished here. She could hear an unspoken warning in his tone. Whatever it was that Miles Benton wanted to discuss, he didn't want others to hear.

Nora nodded her consent and returned to her seat. She prayed Connie would be too busy getting her precious check to bother with her. For Nora, Connie’s money-lust was like that of the thirty pieces of silver that Judas received for his betrayal. David never gave Nora a second glance if he didn't have to, and she thanked the heavens for small favors. Her cousin’s attitudes toward Winnie were disturbing enough, but the outright disrespect and avarice made her feel sick inside. She couldn’t understand how they had turned out so greedy over the belongings of their Great Aunt who had been so generous in life and in death. It wasn't as if either Connie or David needed the money left to them. Unlike Nora, they had been brought up in the lap of luxury. They had gone to big name colleges and were working in high powered careers and made good incomes. They lived well and a traveled in style, and in important circles.

I want to deposit that check before it’s worthless, Connie told the lawyer frostily.

The lawyer’s dislike for the young woman before him surfaced. "I assure you, Miss Logan, Miss Belfry was far more solvent than you’ve any idea. These are certified checks; the money is there."

Connie gave him a smug shrug. If she was so well off, why did she live in that hovel? What an embarrassment to the Belfry name she was.

Nora winced and closed her eyes, trying to block her cousin’s words out. Misty Hollow may not have been a grand mansion from the Gold Coast, or a fancy townhouse, or even a penthouse apartment in the right area of town. But it wasn’t a hovel either. It was a well-tended, well loved, spacious Arts and Crafts cottage in the woods. Eyes closed Nora could see it so well, seated on a hillside that overlooked a pristine glacier moraine, and far enough back from the road that the sounds of what little traffic there was out in the woods became remote, and muted. There were no streetlights out on that section of the county road so when the sun went down and the night sky was clear, one saw a thick blanket of stars.

It was there, at Misty Hollow, that Nora had first learned about the constellations and shooting stars and the fragrance found in night blooming gardens. It was an extremely comfortable cottage, as Nora remembered it, not at all the shack that Connie insisted it was. It was classic in its design. Winnie even proudly displayed the original blueprint of the house framed and hanging on a wall in the reading alcove. Along with letters and notes from the house’s designer, and a framed register certificate of the house on the Historical Registry.

She had been there a few months ago, visiting Winnie who was ailing. It was the last time she’d seen her grandaunt, heard her encouraging words and felt the real warmth of family. Looking over at Connie, Nora couldn’t conceive of her ever being supportive. Connie was much too self-centered to worry about encouraging anyone else, including her own brother. She’d not the time to waste on Nora, whom she’d always seen as beneath her socially and financially.

David and Connie’s mother sat alone in a chair in the front row of empty seats of those who had been called for the reading of the will. Nora’s heart went out to her. She too had been ignored by her children, who had little to do with her since her husband’s death two years before. Nora’s parents had not attended the reading of the will as the journey east would have been too much for Nora’s dad who was in failing health. John Belfry, Aunt Mary Kate's elder brother, the current head of the family; hadn't bothered to show up. His son Jack was also a no show. Nora leaned forward, Aunt Mary Kate, are you alright? she asked quietly. She worried that showing concern for their mother would upset Connie and David. However, they were busy getting their checks and took no notice.

The woman turned her head slightly, Just sad, dear, she whispered. Just sad.

Is there anything I can do for you, or get for you? Nora offered.

The older woman shook her head, No, thank you, Nora. Nora wished she'd sat now with her Aunt, something her own children hadn't done. Her Aunt was the only person of her generation present, and she deserved to sit in the front row. What she didn't deserve was the cold shoulder that both Connie and David gave her.

Connie received the envelope containing her check, so did David. She tucked hers into her Louis Vuitton handbag, and looked at her mother with mild indifference, Is there anywhere I can drop you? The question was asked with an icy edge. There was no mistaking that Connie considered her mother a nuisance, and an unwanted obligation. The offer was sincere as ground glass in a wound. If she could, Connie would likely drop her mother off some cliff, and write her off as a bad memory.

I have my own car, thank you, Connie, her mother answered with cool civility.

Connie moved to leave but paused by the chair Nora had returned to. Think about it, Nora. It wasn’t a request, but a threatening command. Long and hard. I’ll be in touch; I expect you to be more reasonable the next time we talk. The hint of violence was there, as it always was when Connie dealt with Nora.

Mary Kate Logan stood up once her children had exited. She looked at her aunt’s lawyer and shrugged, I apologize for their behavior, Miles, she said to the man, who had been her Aunt's lawyer for more years than anyone in the family could remember. I’d deny those two came out of my body, if I could. She motioned to the door her offspring had just exited through. They are a prime example of what happens when children are over indulged. And since he’s dead and cannot contradict me, I blame their father.

Miles Benton nodded, understandingly. You are not responsible for them, Mrs. Logan. He added sympathetically, I remember your late husband, he wouldn’t deny it; he’d take credit.

The stylish woman looked at her niece with more compassion than her children had. I’m glad Winnie left the Hollow to you, she said firmly. "Don’t you let that cold-blooded shark, I call a daughter, wrestle it from you. If she’s got a buyer, it’s worth far more than she’d like you to know; you'd never see your fair share of that money. So, you just hang on to it, like Winnie wanted you to. Misty Hollow has been in the family for generations, and it should stay in the family. She gave the girl a wink before moving toward the door. Let's do lunch one day soon, Nora. If nothing else, it will drive my daughter to distraction." She gave Nora another wink.

I'd like that, I miss seeing you, Nora agreed and watched as her aunt left the room.

Miles waited until he and Nora were the only ones left in the room. Well, young lady, he said, motioning her to take a seat closer. There’s a great deal for us to go over.

Really? Nora mused. This all seemed pretty cut and dried. She sat down in a chair that put her directly across from Miles Benton. I'm all yours, Mr. Benton. Fire away.

Your Aunt, as you know, was a complex woman, he told her gently. She left a good many instruction. He motioned to a document on his desk, beside the will. Some of which, are a bit on the eccentric side. He gave her a conspiratorial wink. But you know how unconventional Winnie could be.

I’m still having difficulty in accepting that she’s gone, let alone that she left the bulk of her estate to me, Nora confessed. I don’t even know what the bulk of her estate consists of; I doubt anyone outside of you does. She had moved to the seat her aunt had vacated and looked remorsefully at the empty chairs. Winnie's estate couldn't amount to much, Uncle John and Cousin Jack would have been here, wouldn't they? You said something about stocks and bonds?  Is there anything of consequence in them? Will I be able to afford to keep the Hollow? I have no idea of what she was paying in taxes, let alone utilities. Winnie and I never discussed finances. She was thinking about what Connie had intimated, that the place would cost more than Nora could afford. If that were true, it would break her heart. It would kill her if she had to allow Connie to win.

My dear child; your Aunt Winnie was a bit of an investing wizard over the years, mused the lawyer as he opened the portfolio. I dare say, on her investments alone, you will be very well set for life.

Nora blinked, then gave him a look that conveyed she found that hard to believe. Winnie was known to live a remarkably simple life, taking pleasure from her gardens and her moraines. It was hard to envision her as a financial wizard. I beg your pardon, could you say that again?

Winifred inherited a very sizeable amount of property and cash when she was about your age, from her Aunt Harriet.  It was Harriet Belfry who had the cottage built at Misty Hollow, Miles said knowingly. Many of the original furnishings and artwork in the cottage are from that inheritance. Winnie built her fortune from there.

Why the artwork contents of the cottage alone are worth a king's ransom and are insured as such. Winnie had quite the eye for what would increase in value, even better than Harriet's eye. She only sold off when she found something else, she wanted more, and she always made a profit. You come from a long line of very independent and intuitive women!

He pulled out a page of the inventory of the cottage and estimated worth of some of the artwork. The list included the dates of purchase and the amounts paid out as well as their potential current value. Your Aunt had all those insured, and the policies are still enforced, we’ve had them changed over to your name. As well as the deed to the property and the deed to the car. He smiled over at Nora, Rest assured, you will be able to keep the cottage for the rest of your natural life if that was your worry. And you should be able to live in comfort and in style.

Nora read over the sheet, eyes widening as she recognized the names of artists and artwork, Connie would die if she had any idea, she murmured. She hated some of the statuary that Winnie was so proud of. She called the statue in the garden, trashy yard art. Nora remembered that Connie had done more than call the statue trash, she tried to knock it over the last time she spent a summer at the cottage. Seeing what the worth of it was, Nora was glad that Connie hadn't succeeded.

All of the financial accounts have been transferred to your name, and the taxes and death duties have been paid. Miles went on. I suggest you continue with the management agencies and banks she used; they are very reputable. He leaned back in his chair. I think with some tutoring on the subject, you should learn the ins and outs of the finances without much trouble.

All this is really mine? Nora asked, looking up in confusion. Realizing that she wasn’t poor any longer took a moment before it sunk in.

Yes.

And I can use it anyway I want? She inquired.

Of course, it belongs to you. He replied.

Why me?

Miles leaned back and smiled gently. Nora dear, who visited Winnie, remembered her birthday, and made sure she had someone to share the holidays with?

That was just as much for me, as it was for her, Nora argued. When my parents moved west, Aunt Winnie invited me to keep her company. She was kindness itself. Returning that kindness was natural. Nora shook her head. I didn't expect anything from doing that, that’s not why I did it. She felt defensive, as if someone were comparing her to Connie, not after how her cousin had behaved here at the reading of this will.

For you, it was natural, Miles pointed out. Not for everyone. He shrugged. You and your cousins spent summers with her when you were kids. Only you returned after your teen years. Constance and David couldn’t wait to have excuses not to spend time with her. Surely you didn't think Winnie wasn't aware of their disdain for her.  The older man gave her an understanding gaze. "I had your Aunt’s confidence in all matters.  He added, I watched all of you grow up. He reminded her, I know you,