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Wand Book and Candle Part 5
Wand, Book and Candle, Part 5 By Elliot Reid A scorching plain of fine white mica lay beneath an obsidian sky. Above it hung the Moon, wreathed in flame. Before me hovered a figure I did not recognize, pale and cold. It looked nothing like my father and yet I knew it was him. "Why do feel these things?" I asked the specter. "Why do I want to mutilate my girlfriends?" "The wand asserts itself," the ghost said, its voice dry as a library. "The what?" "The wand. Your old...