The Magician: Chapter 4 (An Andromache Jones Mystery Short Story)

Posted on March 17, 2023 by sammicoxwriter

About The Magician: An Andromache Jones Mystery

“I am about to set you a challenge, Miss Jones, one that has very real life and death consequences.”

Andromache Jones has somehow managed to capture the attention of The Magician and finds herself caught up in The Game, his challenge that has very real life and death consequences, and not only for her. Can she complete the test he has set in the allotted time and live to see another day, or will failure, and The Magician triumph?

Read Chapter 1 Here or find the Index to All Chapters Here

Chapter 4

The Riddle

The Magician walked over to the door and picked up his bag. He crossed the threshold into the corridor and began to pull the door to.

‘It is time. I wish you good luck, Miss Jones. Let The Game begin!’ He shut the door firmly behind him, and Mac was left with the sound of a key turning in a lock which echoed around the room.

For a few minutes she was too stunned to move; her mind was completely devoid of anything. Then all at once, she was up at the table looking at the resources she had in front of her.

There was the mobile phone The Magician had spoken about. She put that straight into her pocket. Then she noticed the small handbag she had been carrying – when was it? – whenever The Magician must have kidnapped her. It had been emptied and all the contents placed on the table, that was except for her personal mobile phone. That was missing, presumed confiscated.

She returned the brown lipstick to her bag, along with an emery board, her purse (which she checked was still full of her money and cards, not to mention a photo of her family and boyfriend Crab), a pen and notebook, as well as a few other miscellaneous items.

The one item that stood out to her was her pendulum; she took it out of its protective pouch and held it close to her. It was fashioned out of lapis-lazuli, cone-like in shape and attached to a sterling silver chain, at the end of which was a small amethyst sphere. At least I have you, she whispered to it, though at the same time she cursed herself for not packing one of her tarot decks in her bag before she left the house. It was not like her, and today, the one day that she needed them, she didn’t have them to hand. She slipped it back into its pouch and placed it in her handbag.

Next she picked up her car keys which were also lying on the table. She placed them in her other pocket but wondered whether she would actually need a car, and if she did, could she use it. She didn’t know if she was expected to leave the room, let alone drive to a different location, and the car itself wasn’t actually on the table.

The only things left were an envelope that had “Miss Jones” scrawled across the front in an archaic, spidery script, and a folded up map. Mac opened the envelope and pulled out a few folded sheets of expensive notepaper. The first sheet was a letter signed by The Magician, that Mac proceeded to read:

Ma Cherie. The Game has begun, and the clock is ticking. Enclosed with this letter you will find a riddle that you must solve. If you fail in this task, someone dear to you will die, as will you. As you progress along the challenge, not only will you find clues to help you save this soul from the arms of death, you will find clues as to the identity of the one who shall perish should you not complete The Game in the allotted time. I am watching you. Good luck.

The Magician

As Mac read the words left to her by her kidnapper, tears began to form in her eyes. She willed herself not to cry for there wasn’t the time, but it was too much. Why was this happening to her? What right did this madman have to make her play such a sick game? She banged her hand on the table in front of her out of sheer frustration, but it seemed to clear her head of any emotions that would cloud her judgement. She looked at the second sheet of paper, and found on it the riddle that The Magician had mentioned:

The ground is my roof now

I live in a house of wood

The Earth Spirits embrace me

I’ll soon be gone for good.

As she looked at the words written in the spidery hand, she knew at once the meaning of The Game: to find the loved one whom The Magician had buried alive somewhere. The room spun as images she did not wish to see swam before her eyes. She held on to the table for support, took a deep breath and felt herself steady.

She looked once more at the riddle, looking for the clues that The Magician had alluded to, but if they were there she couldn’t see them. Instead of panicking, she moved on.

I have been given the map for a reason. She picked it up and opened it out. It showed an area, ten miles square, depicting nothing more than countryside, forests and small villages. Somewhere in here is someone I love, waiting for me to come and save them.

The detail on the map wasn’t that great, but she was thankful for her pendulum. It would definitely come in useful for the task that was ahead of her. She folded the map into quarters, pressing heavily along each fold, before opening it up again and spreading it out on the table. Then she reached into her handbag and retrieved her pendulum.

The first thing she did was test her “yes” and “no” responses. She held out her left hand and asked to see the response for “yes”. When she was satisfied, she swapped hands. Suspending the pendulum over her right hand, she asked to see the response for “no”. All other movements of the pendulum did not matter; they implied that there was no definite answer to the question.

She took in a deep breath to calm herself and then held the pendulum over each quarter of the map in turn. She asked one question: is the one which I seek, the one that the riddle speaks of, hidden within this quadrant? She checked each quarter of the map, receiving one “yes” response and three “no’s” from the pendulum, which was a good clear sign.

Mac then gathered up everything that was left on the table, the map, the letter and riddle included, and stuffed them in her handbag. She had narrowed down the search area by three quarters, and hadn’t even left the room yet. Surely that had to be considered a good start?

Chapter 5 coming next week…or you can read the whole short story right now, for FREE, over on Wattpad

The Magician: Chapter 3 (An Andromache Jones Mystery Short Story)

Posted on March 10, 2023 by sammicoxwriter

About The Magician: An Andromache Jones Mystery

“I am about to set you a challenge, Miss Jones, one that has very real life and death consequences.”

Read Chapter 1 Here or find the Index to All Chapters Here

Chapter 3

The Rules

Suddenly the notion that The Game was real dawned on Mac. The way in which he said he hoped she would make it home made her blood run cold. She was going to have to play, whether she wanted to or not, if she wanted to live.

‘Time is moving on; we have a schedule to keep, I’m afraid. On reflection I should have allowed more time to sit and talk with you; it is not often I make mistakes, and it is even rarer that I admit them.’ He began pacing the room.

‘We have established why you are here, we have named the players. The start of The Game approaches,’ The Magician said in an excitable tone. ‘But what is a game without rules?’ he asked rhetorically. ‘It wouldn’t be fun without a set of parameters in which to confine The Game, would it?’

He walked over to Mac, removed her blindfold and untied her wrists. The sudden light hurt her eyes; she considered trying to make an escape, but quickly realised that in this condition and with The Magician’s penchant for planning, she wouldn’t get far.

‘Your eyesight will be blurry for a little while yet. I have no fear of you seeing enough of me to provide a decent description to the police, if you live. Of course, I hope you do survive, but rules are rules, and we must stick to them or chaos will reign.’

Mac looked around, trying to make out details of the room she was in, but nothing stood out. She saw blurs of dark colour. She could see a faint light hanging from the ceiling.

Nevertheless, when The Magician stood in front of her, she could see what he was wearing. He looked like something out of a Victorian costume drama; he was dressed very formally. Black trousers, white shirt, black dress shoes that clicked slightly as he walked. Over the white shirt he wore a waistcoat, and over that a dinner jacket; on his head was a top hat, and soft, white cotton gloves graced his hands. He appeared to be holding a crystal-topped cane. However, just as he had informed her, Mac could not make out any features of his face, bar his facial hair; a broad black moustache swept in waves above his mouth, and a pointed goatee beard sat on his chin. For all she knew these were fake and had been glued onto his face.

‘You have a dramatic style.’

‘Thank you for noticing, Miss Jones. It goes with my dramatic nature, don’t you think?’

‘It’s very… Victorian.’

‘I knew you would understand. The era of real gentlemen, when the name magician meant something. If only we had had the chance to meet before now…every magician requires a beautiful assistant.’ He picked up one of her hands in his gloved hand and kissed it. ‘But alas, The Game calls.’

‘I have a question.’

‘That’s what I want to hear, that you are getting into The Game. It makes it so much more likely that you will survive. Ask away.’

‘What is the purpose of The Game? What does it entail? What is the point of it?’

‘Well, the purpose is to test your levels of deduction and the gifts you possess; it entails a challenge made up of smaller tests, and the point of it? To see whether you can beat me at my own game.’

‘But what do I have to do? Have I to steal something? Solve a riddle?’

‘That will become clear shortly. Any other questions?’

‘No.’

‘Good, now on with the rules…

‘Number one: you must play,’ he said, beginning to pace the room as his movements became more animated. ‘Refuse to play, and I will be forced to shoot you in the back of the head.

‘Number two: you must play alone. Speaking to anyone other than The Magician, moi, or yourself, will result in a bullet to the back of the head, unless of course, you are instructed to do so.

‘Number three: you may only use the items that you begin The Game with. These items can be found here on this table. If it’s not on this table, you cannot use it. Use something that isn’t on this table, and you will find a bullet in the back of your head.

‘Number four: the only phone you can use will be the one on the table; you are not allowed to use any other phone until you complete The Game.

‘Number five: if by chance you come across a computer or any other device that is connected to the internet, you are prohibited from using it. No internet access is allowed whilst The Game is in play.

‘Number six: do not test my commitment to my rules. I will be observing you at all times. Break the rules and you will die. You will of course, be aware that some of your predecessors did not heed this warning. I have had to dispose of six out of the past twelve contestants.

‘That makes you contestant number thirteen. I hope you approve as it was no accident. The number thirteen is considered sacred in witchcraft, is it not?’

‘It is.’

‘Splendid. So, the rules have been laid out. All the pieces of the puzzle can be found on this table. If you need to speak with me, my number is in the phone. I stress, if you are unsure of something, ask first, or you will regret it, ma cherie.

‘One more thing, the challenges I create have a time limit. If you don’t successfully complete the test within the allotted time… bang,’ he said, holding his fingers in the shape of a gun.

‘Your time limit is three hours, three minutes and three seconds. I like to be precise. Again, I hope you are pleased with the reference to another sacred pagan number.You have been truly inspirational in this challenge and I must thank you for that. The others were so common and…well normal. To compete with a clever witch, a psychic one at that, has really made me think about what I am doing. It has posed a challenged in itself.’

‘It’s a shame that you didn’t delve a little deeper into The Craft and come across the ‘harm none’ tenet. Then perhaps there would be no need for The Game.’

‘Where would be the fun in that? I thought that you understood, about me, about The Game. I was wrong.’ He sounded hurt.

‘Murder is not fun.’

‘And neither is failure, Miss Jones. I hope you will remember that.’

Chapter 4 coming next week…or you can read the whole short story right now, for FREE, over on Wattpad

The Magician: Chapter 2 (An Andromache Jones Mystery Short Story)

Posted on March 3, 2023 by sammicoxwriter

About The Magician: An Andromache Jones Mystery

“I am about to set you a challenge, Miss Jones, one that has very real life and death consequences.”

Read Chapter 1 Here

Chapter 2

The Players

Mac felt her head spin. The man with the exuberant personality would not stop talking, and what he said made little sense to her.

‘So now we know why you are here. I did promise you fun, Miss Jones, didn’t I?’

Mac was struggling to bring her thoughts together into one coherent whole. Are the drugs still affecting my mind? she wondered. Whatever the reason, she was finding it hard to respond to this madman.

‘The next step would be for me to tell you who I am. I’m assuming that you still haven’t guessed it? No; such a disappointment. I wonder with that failure already under your belt, how you will fare during The Game. Let’s just say that past games suggest the odds are not in your favour, but you might surprise us all. These things are not a foregone conclusion; a single roll of the dice can change a player’s luck,’ he offered enthusiastically.

‘So, who am I? I am who? Of course, in this business one cannot simply go around revealing their true identity willy-nilly. There must be some safeguards in place for the conductor of our little game-playing ensemble. Luckily for me, I have a rather exciting pseudonym; it conjures up the perfect image. I, Miss Jones, am…The Magician.’

Mac gasped for a variety of reasons. She realised she had heard of this man after all, and was concerned that her activities had caught his attention.

The Magician had been making the national news for a year now. Every month or so, he would abduct a private investigator that he believed was at the top of their field, according to a written statement he had issued to a news channel. He only played his game with the best, pitting one great mind against the other.

‘You know my name. That pleases me, in a vain sort of way. I wonder why you did not connect the dots before…’

‘The other detectives you had chosen were always in the papers. I am not. They worked on high profile cases. I do not. They were considered the best-of-the-best. I am not.’

‘Don’t sell yourself short, my dear. If I did not think you worthy, you would not have been chosen. There is something different about you; something that I have not faced with the other competitors.

‘You are the first female contestant. Your feminine intuition combined with your other gifts interests me. I want to understand how your mind works, how you reach your conclusions, how you solve the puzzles that are put in front of you.

‘With you, I get the enjoyment of The Game plus the chance to observe how a very different mind works…pleasure and the opportunity to improve my own game; who could ask for more?’

‘But why me?’

‘Have you met any other female private detectives, Miss Jones?’

‘Some, not many.’ At this moment, she wondered if explaining that she wasn’t really a private detective, only a witch that dabbled in the work of a private detective, would change things. Listening to the way the man was rabbiting on, she thought not.

‘And out of those few, how many specialise in the catching of philandering spouses and the search for evidence which might suggest a pre-nuptial agreement would be advisable before a wedding? Does that sound like a critical mind to you? Does that sound like someone who is worthy of my attention, and what’s more, my time and effort? Of course not. Some private detectives are more paparazzi than Sherlock Holmes.

‘You should be honoured to be here now, Miss Jones, talking to me. It shows what respect I have for you and what esteem I hold you in.’

‘I shall have to disappoint you again then; I would rather be at home, sipping a nice, hot cup of tea.’

‘Then let’s hope you make it back there.’

Chapter 3 coming next week…or you can read the whole short story right now, for FREE, over on Wattpad

The Magician: Chapter 1 (An Andromache Jones Mystery Short Story)

Posted on February 24, 2023 by sammicoxwriter

About The Magician: An Andromache Jones Mystery

“I am about to set you a challenge, Miss Jones, one that has very real life and death consequences.”

Chapter 1

The Game

The metallic taste in her mouth and the lingering chemical odour were the first clues that indicated to Andromache Jones she had been abducted. In quick succession, other hints followed: the blindfold over her blue eyes; the bindings around her slender wrists.

She was of medium height and not very broad, but she was stronger than she looked. However, with the aid of a chemical or drug, she would have been easy to overpower.

Sitting as still as she could, Andromache strained to hear the sound of movement that would point to whether she was alone or if there was someone else in the room with her. She heard nothing; nothing except the sound of her heart pounding in her ears and the repetitive drip-drip of a leaky pipe or tap.

The air was damp and cold, and clung to her purple-streaked, light brown hair that reached her shoulders and stuck out at funny angles when it wasn’t being restrained by a blindfold.

The air also had a peculiar taste to it, or so she thought. However, her analytical mind quickly accepted that this might be the result of the combined effect of the taste in her mouth, the chemical soreness in her nose and the disorientation of her predicament.

Andromache, or Mac, as she preferred to be called as “Andromache” sounded far too formal and always led to questions about Troy, Prince Hector and The Illiad, had made a few enemies in her twenty-four years of life, and she had annoyed a few more on top of that. This was directly the consequence of two things: her forays into the world of the private detective and the gifts she had been born with.

By trade, or perhaps destiny depending on which way you looked at it, Mac was a psychic. However, her love of mysteries and puzzles had naturally pushed her towards helping out her policeman boyfriend on a few of his cases. This led to his quick advancement up the ranks and inflamed her desire to solve crimes and conundrums, with the aid of her psychic gifts, naturally.

Mac was not clairvoyant; she didn’t see the dead. She was sometimes capable of clairaudience where she could receive messages and guidance from a spirit in the form of speech, but this was quite a rare occurrence. She was however, clairsentient; she could feel the presence of the dead. Nevertheless, these abilities did not really help her in the pursuit of answers. The tarot cards, crystal ball and pendulum on the other hand, very much did.

She had played her part in the capture of murderers, drug dealers, burglars and even a bank robber. She had located lost children, stolen jewellery and once a kidnapped tenth generation pedigree dachshund. Of course, her involvement in such cases was kept very much out of the public eye; she did not seek fame and the police did not want their association to become public knowledge.

However, that did not mean that others outside of these circles were oblivious to Mac’s role in such cases, as her current dilemma seemed to prove. Mac racked her brain, trying to think of who could have done this to her and yet it seemed somewhat of an over-reaction for most of the cases she had been involved with, especially recently. So she turned her attention away from the world of sleuthing, instead focusing on her other area of employment.

From her little cottage in the village of Bramblesgrove, Mac ran River Gardens Mystical Services, from which she dispensed herbal medicine, periodically taught yoga, offered readings, and as a member of the Coven of the Silver Star, an international coven network, cast spells. She regularly taught classes and wrote literature on metaphysical subjects, and within this circle, she was deemed quite famous, much to her embarrassment.

Yet here also enemies lurked, in the form of other witches jealous of her abilities and her success. Sure, some of them would like to see my luck change, she mused, but would any of them go to the length of kidnapping me? To what end?

Just as she was about to answer her own question, footsteps, faint at first, could be heard. Mac felt the first flurries of panic in her stomach, as she sent a silent plea up to the Goddess asking to keep her safe. Then she mustered up all her courage and forced herself to calm down. Looking weak and terrified would do her no good.

‘You’ve come round! How delightful!’ exclaimed the voice of a man, a voice she did not recognise. ‘Welcome to my lair. This is where all the fun begins, and as always, I promise all my guests lots of that.’

‘You have people over often?’ Mac asked dryly. She was annoyed at the jollity in his voice; she had prepared for menacing, not merry.

‘Oh, regularly,’ he replied, clapping his hands together. ‘Not as often as I would like, because my parties take so much planning. It’s all in the detail, you understand. Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we have yet to be properly introduced.

‘I obviously know who you are. Miss Andromache Jones, the “Fortune Teller Detective” I think a newspaper once called you? What am I saying? I know that is exactly what they called you as I have the clipping on a board in my library. I do my research, you see.

‘Now your turn; have you worked out who I am yet?’ he asked, sounding thoroughly excited to hear what she had to say.

‘To be honest, I haven’t the foggiest. The whole thing feels a little surreal to me. Perhaps if you were to take off my blindfold I might have a better chance of working out who you are?’

He laughed heartily before replying. ‘Clever, clever, but no. I must admit I am a little disappointed in you. Out of all my guests I would have put money on you working out my identity. Why not ask your spirit friends for a clue? I would love to see how that voodoo-Ouija board-magic, or whatever you call it, works.’ Mac remained silent; she wasn’t going to play his games if she could avoid it. ‘No? What a shame. I personally don’t understand any of it, this spiritual, paranormal, talking to trees nonsense, so any insights I gleam from our time spent together shall be worth their weight in gold, I have no doubt.

‘And as for my identity, I shall just have to tell you who I am, but it will have to wait for a moment. You might have a more pressing question that you want me to answer.’

‘Such as…?’

‘Miss Jones, please try to play along,’ he pleaded. ‘It’s more fun with two.’

‘This might be “fun” for you but don’t expect me to enjoy myself. I am bound and blindfolded; I think I have been drugged…where is the “fun” for me in all of this?’

He quietly chuckled at her outburst. ‘And I thought you didn’t want to play?’ he said, teasingly, ‘but you did exactly what I asked of you. Your question might be better phrased as “why am I here”?’ He paused, before resuming. ‘Go on, ask me.’

‘Why am I here?’ Mac asked, as she felt the fight draining out of her.

‘For The Game, of course.’

‘The Game? What game? What are you talking about?’

‘The Game, the chase, the puzzle, call it what you will. I am about to set you a challenge, Miss Jones, one that has very real life and death consequences.’

Chapter 2 coming next week…or you can read the whole short story right now, for FREE, over on Wattpad

An Andromache Jones Mysteries Update

Posted on February 23, 2023 by sammicoxwriter

At the start of the month (in this post), I said that while I was on my blogging break over Christmas and New Year, I had been working on my witchy sleuth cosy mystery series, the Andromache Jones Mysteries. I also said that this year I was planning on reposting The Magician, the first short story in the series, here on the blog. The reason: it’s been 10 years (last October) that I released The Magician out into the world as a free ebook. It seemed a milestone worth celebrating.

In order to do this, I’ve had a long list of things to do, some of which are still in progress:

New covers needed to be designed (Done ✔)
I wanted to re-edit the story, just to make sure it aligned with some of the newer Andromache stories I’ve been writing (Currently in Progress 🖋)
This website needed updating because some of the content in the AJM link on the menu looked dated (Done ✔)
Wattpad needed updating so that it had the current edition of the story (Currently in Progress 🖋)
The new covers needed to be added to Goodreads (Not done ❌)

The only thing I have consciously decided not to do at this time is to update the ebook (available at Smashwords and other online sites but not Amazon). The reason is two-fold. First, the majority, though by no means all, of the recents reads have come from Wattpad. Secondly: because I’ve been pondering taking the ebook down, so when time is at a premium (why are there not more hours in the day?!), it feels like I would be wasting it . Of course, I may change my mind…We shall see…

New covers for The Magician and The Apparition

I had so much fun re-designing the book covers. I love the original ones but I felt they suggested the stories were more thriller-mystery rather than cosy mystery. They also look a lot more professional, but then I’ve got 10 years more experience at designing book covers.

What do you think?

About the Andromache Jones Mysteries

Andromache Jones is a tarot-reading witch from the sleepy village of Bramblesgrove, where she runs River Gardens Mystical Services. From here, she gives tarot readings, casts runes, gazes lovingly at the moon and stars, plays with crystals and herbs…and sometimes solves crimes. She likes to think of herself as a part-time private detective who untangles mysteries, but really she is an amateur sleuth who happens to attract trouble – and troublesome clients.

The Magician is the first (short) story in the Andromache Jones Mysteries. Andromache Jones has somehow managed to capture the attention of The Magician and finds herself caught up in The Game, his challenge that has very real life and death consequences, and not only for her. Can she complete the test he has set in the allotted time and live to see another day, or will failure, and The Magician triumph?

You can read more about the Andromache Jones Mysteries, and my plans for the series, over on this newly updated page.

When can you expect the first chapter of The Magician to be posted on this site? Tomorrow…If you do have a read of it, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Brightest Blessings,

Sammi x

Old Annie

Posted on October 13, 2021 by sammicoxwriter

She was hiding in the trees. I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Things hadn’t been the same since that last meeting out in the lane the day before yesterday. I can’t even remember what had started it. She had shouted something nasty, and I had shouted back.

I remember how it ended though. She bent her fingers in a strange way and shook her hand at me whilst muttering something indecipherable that ended with the uttering of “Sarah Brown”. My name.

I stood frozen to the spot as she spat into the dirt to seal her curse, then looked on, helpless, as she walked away, a look of triumph on her face.

‘That’ll teach thee,’ she had called over her shoulder.

They always said Old Annie was a witch, but I never believed it. Until now.

I can feel her eyes on the house.

Watching.

Waiting.

Written for: Crimson’s Creative Challenge #153 | Word count: 152

I suspect savvy Old Annie knows exactly what the local populace have been saying about her and is now using it against them. No doubt she understands the greater power lies in the fear of the curse, rather than the curse itself.

Witch! Witch! Witch!

Posted on July 9, 2021 by sammicoxwriter

A night of terror. Of voices in the dark, asking questions she cannot answer, demanding truth instead of lies in the face of accusation.

Dawn finds her tethered to a post. Bound and blindfolded, her heart races with fear, anger, frustrated by small minds and superstitions.

She isn’t dangerous, only different.

By the time they realise, it will be too late.

She smells smoke, hears crackling, knows the fire has taken hold. The heat intensifies.

It won’t be long now…

Written for: Weekend Writing Prompt #216 – Tether | Word count: 80 words

Excavating the Archives: Lady Luna

Posted on March 10, 2017 by sammicoxwriter

Night time

By the silver stream

Endlessly flowing

She descends to the Earth

From Her home in the Moon.

Her name’s Lady Luna

She’s Queen of the Heavens.

With the magic of Starlight

She sings Destiny’s tune.

Throughout the night-time

She walks with the Mysteries

Casting Her spells

To which none are immune.

Charming, enchanting

Bewitching, beguiling.

With the magic of Moonlight

She casts Destiny’s rune.

From September 2015, https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2015/09/28/lady-luna/

Dreaming in Purple – An Andromache Jones Mini Mystery

Posted on March 4, 2017 by sammicoxwriter

It’s the day of the Bramblesgrove Village Fair and Andromache Jones is giving away free tarot readings. However, she woke that morning recalling she had dreamt in purple. And that can only mean one thing…something quite extraordinary is going to happen.

Dreaming in Purple is the first Andromache Jones Mini Mystery. If you’ve yet to read the other Andromache Jones Mysteries, this very short story will serve as a great introduction to the witchy sleuth.

To read this free short story, click the cover above, or follow this link. And if you do read it, don’t forget to let me know what you think!