by Trinity Crow
“Oh good, you're here!”
I stopped at the sound of Sayre's perky voice. That almost anxious feeling came rushing back and mixed queasily with the brownies now sloshing around in my stomach. I turned to see her decked out in a tailcoat paired striped leggings and hightops, the colors blinding.
“No,” I said, my tone less than polite. “You're here.”
“Ah,” Sayre tilted her head, smiling. Her black lined eyes blinked at me through red tipped bangs. “And you're deliriously happy to see me?”
I stared back at her, the red tips distracting me. Why had I thought they were green?
"Well, now that we've settled that we're both here,” Sayre chirped, linking her arm through mine, “let's get a move on.”
I stiffened as she pushed against me, smelling of some kind of weird incense, not unpleasant, but spicy and fruity. She was soft and kind of squishy and the feel of another person so close to me was not doing anything for my peace of mind or brownies. I pushed her away.
She sighed and pouted. “I'm guessing you're a 'no PDA' person?”
“I'm a 'stay out of my personal space' person.” I snapped. “Do we need to define personal space?”
Sayre laughed. “Okay, chill out! I just came to invite you to tea.”
Tea? I barely managed to stop my eye roll.
“We brought Chloe over.” Sayre didn't bother to stop her own ocular twirl. “The high priestess of Voodoo is prepared to answer your questions.”
“Really? Voodoo? How could that help me?”
Sayre stared at me, apparently speechless for once. She blinked slowly a few times and then exhaled. “Are you serious? Wow, you are such a flat-earther. This whole town is built on Voodoo, hoodoo, and witchcraft. Anything occult in this town has mixed influences. You have to pull through them to tap any kind of power.”
She did a double take at my blank look.
"Seriously? Oh my goddesses, how clueless can you be? The town is built on those foundations. Have you really not noticed?” Her voice had this weird admiration. “You are so insular.” She fake shivered. “When you put that concentration into spellwork…look out, world!”
“Yeah, well, I have zero intention of doing spellwork.” Even the word was ridiculous. A magic spell? That worked? Those were just stories I had been forced to read to Emily and Nikki, princesses, dragons and magic charms.
“No, you're right.” Sayre dripped fake sincerity. “Witches, spells, hoodoo…and GHOST DOGS!!” she shouted the last words. “Yep, none of that crap is real.”
I glared at her. “So what, Sayre? Werewolves? Unicorns? Vampires?”
“Of course not. Now you're being ridiculous.” She laughed at my face. “Can we walk and talk please?” She reached for my arm and then danced backwards, holding her hands up in surrender. “Oops! Force of habit!”
“You habitually assault people?” I stared her down.
She smiled wickedly. “Every chance I get.”
I let my eyes roll back in my head, but didn't resist when she grabbed my hand and pulled me across the street.
The tiny parking lot was empty and I wondered if Chloe had shown up. I guess part of me hoped she hadn't. I followed Sayre up the steps, uneasily. Our shoes made hollow sounds on the wooden boards as we crossed the porch. In the window, something dangled, twisting in a breeze that wasn't the wind. I avoided looking at it, knowing it was another display from Aren's foretelling dreams. My supernatural tolerance level was already on overload. No need to add more.
The bells chimed, welcoming, as she pushed open the door and we walked inside. I looked around apprehensively, expecting a disappointed Aren to question me about the night before, but the shop was empty.
Sayre flipped the lock on the door and turned the sign from open to closed.
“The benefits of small business ownership!” she said, winking what looked like fake eyelashes. “If this goes well, Aren thought she'd set up a protections lesson with Chloe and maybe another Co-op member, Mason.”
We followed the red carpet behind the curtain to a perfectly ordinary storeroom, and through that room into a hall mostly taken up by a long staircase.
“I thought the store was the Co-op?” I asked.
"Well, it is, but it's become more than that. Aren started out just offering traditional supplies, like herbs, candles, and stuff, and then I added basic charms and amulets. After a while, we became a gathering place for people who practice witchcraft or herb-lore, a place to meet or catch up on news of the occult community. But LaPierre," Sayre shrugged, "well, there's a lot of diversity here. Voodoo, hoodoo, Wiccans, witches, La Santisima. We started offering stuff for all different types of practices and then eventually met people who, like us, believe that what we have in common is more important than our differences. We wanted a name to pull us all together. So, crooked to symbolize the occult, crossroads for the different paths we walk and co-operative for unity.”
I nodded, taking it in and wondering how all of these alternative beliefs could work together while God based religions stayed busy trying to kill each other off. Open-mindedness or maybe just tolerance? Whatever it was, it made me take a big step towards approving this whole Co-op occult society thing.
Sayre led me past the stairs and into a brightly lit room. Aren and another woman sat in stuffed armchairs, talking. Beyond them, an open arch led to a kitchen. The sight of the kitchen settled me. It's warm wood tones were welcoming and homey. I answered Aren's hello and then looked at the woman, Chloe.
She paused her talking as she returned my look. What she saw was beyond me. Wavy brown hair in a ponytail, medium height and weight dressed in jeans and a tee. I worked hard to stay unnoticeable. Ordinary, average. I guess my eyes were weird. Sectoral heterochromia, they called it. All it meant was more than one color mixed up in each eye. I inner shrugged. It was possible that, like me, Chloe judged people by things that had nothing to do with hair color, fashion trends or birth defects, things like shiftiness, smirks, or that undeniable creep factor some people gave off. Whatever it was she looked for, Chloe seemed satisfied it was or wasn’t present in me. For my part, I saw a worn down, middle age woman, deep wrinkles cutting grooves in her unsmiling face. She sat in a wheelchair, wearing a dowdy, green dress, blondish hair in braids wreathing her head. The number of necklaces and rings she wore looked exhausting. She met my eyes and nodded stiffly, a civility rather than a hello. I returned the gesture and they lay between us like lines in the sand.
I took my cup of tea from Aren with resignation, more flowers. Why couldn't she dream me with a cup of Maxwell House or a coke? Now that would be a useful talent. I sat down on the loveseat Aren waved me to, Sayre flopping on to the matching ottoman. For a long minute, there was an awkward silence.
“The word ‘cast’ comes in layers,” Chloe spoke suddenly, her voice was lighter than I expected, floaty, kind of. She avoided looking at me as if that long assessment had worn her out. Sayre jumped a little at the sound of her voice and then I saw her shoulders twitch in amusement. I did my best to ignore her and focus on what was being said.
“People may say cast a spell, fishermen cast a net, an object may cast a shadow. To cast a spell, you create, you shape." She paused, her eyelids fluttering. "You perform the ritual and color it with your intent."
The words seemed to be dragged out of her reluctantly and the tension made it hard to listen objectively. I sipped politely at the cloying tea and tried harder.
"That’s what the words are for, the ritual. To some, they are showy trappings, the flash, and bang of the occult world. But rituals such as a child’s bedtime routine, the bath, the story, the goodnight kiss, these prepare the child’s mind and body to accept and be ready for what follows, the surrender of the consciousness into sleep. This also is the act or ritual of the casting rune, preparing you, mind and body. Think of a fisherman casting a net, a conscious act with a planned result, fish. The rhyme gives you four results you may attain, and the proper ritual to follow.
As you notice, each of the lines contains an element and a linked response. Air, fire, water and earth.” Chloe paused, her hands trembling as they smoothed the fabric of her skirt. The sound of her voice had shifted to a curious mixture of certainty and hesitancy.
And in a weird flash, I understood. She believed absolutely in what she said but was unsure if I would and how rude I would be if I didn't…and how bad I'd hurt her. To get past that fear, she was talking snotty and formal, as if I didn't understand her words, then I wasn't worth her time and my opinion, rude or not, didn't matter. I already knew that most of the time, stuck up meant insecure. She didn't need to worry, there was nothing left in me to mock this occultish world of hers. It had chosen me, or stupidly, I had let it in.
Chloe took a quick breath and continued. “The first line speaks of water. Water is the fickle element, gentle, then deadly. Water is unknowable and is used to call forth," her dark eyes slid to mine, unwavering. “to summon.” Her voice was heavy with meaning.
I mental shivered, remembering the voice, the breathing. Although there hadn't been water involved unless you counted the plumbing or the haint paint on the door. Of course, I certainly hadn't summoned the damn thing.
“Like the changeable nature of water, you can never be certain that what comes will be what was called. Much control and practice are needed to undertake a summons." Her eyes gave me another dark and silent warning.
Shivers or not, I had the unmistakable urge to laugh. Chloe's voice had turned deep, and she spoke like a Madame Zelkova, the fortune teller from the St Martin's church fair.
I will meet a dark and mysterious stranger I thought, then had another flash of memory of the strange voice from behind the door. Which was creepy enough to shut me down.
“The wind of the second line stands for the elemental force of air. Air is the celestial element, associated with light energy, known to some as divinity or a force for good.” She smiled, this time mockingly, which I didn't get at all, but let it go. “Use this element to seek for what is or what may be.”
This was way too cloaked in shadows for me and I made a note to ask exactly what that meant. What is or may be? What the hell did that mean in regular Joe?
“Fire is linked to purification, transformation, the burning of witches,” her mouth twisted, the wrinkles deepening painfully, “cremations, ash Wednesday, the hearth ritual of Samhain. Fire is the element of release. This ritual will remove energies from our realm into another.”
Chloe fell silent. In perfect counterpoint to her quiet, the wall clock ticked abnormally loud. For a moment. there was no sound, then Aren asked softly, prompting her. “The fourth line?”
Chloe sighed. I fought the urge to sigh with her. All of this seemed either a huge effort or else she just didn't want to be here. Well, hot diggity, that made two of us.
“Three lines speak of actions, the caster may perform, cast upon the water, into the fire, away the wind. The fourth line says Of. Cast of the earth will bind. Many have tried to use this talent, desperate people, hoping for that outcome, to bind."
Sayre looked as blank as I did, but Aren looked . . . frightened?
“Bind an energy to this earthly plane," Chloe said with clear reluctance as she faced our blank stares.
“Like, create a ghost?” Sayre asked in disbelief, putting it together before I did.
Chloe shrugged. In true occult fashion, she was committing to nothing.
“Perhaps, or create a talisman? Maybe ensure a loved one lived on in some way. This is a serious power and I believe that is the reason for the word of. Cast of the earth to bind. The talent must be inborn, of the earth, a true child of the earth.” Her dark eyes rose to mine and held them.
Aren made a small sound, while Sayre sat opened mouthed, and all of them were looking at me.
Well, craptastic. Now I was the child of prophecy? Super-woo to the rescue?
“Okay, yeah,” I said skeptically, into the silence “but “of the earth” wouldn’t that mean all people? You know, ashes to ashes, dust to dust?”
Chloe looked puzzled.
“Is she Christian?” she asked Aren quietly aside as if it would be rude to say it loudly and to my face.
“No! I mean yes!” Sayre burst in. She twisted around to face me in excitement.
Probably couldn't hold it anymore, she must be desperate to talk after the forced silence during Chloe’s monologue, I thought.
“There is a belief that people are linked to one of the four arcane elements. And each one has its own properties. And Chinese, right?” she said excitedly, her meaning, as usual, obvious only to her. "Except they have five, but never mind that!"
I gave her the look. Sayre was undaunted but gave us the privilege of an explanation.
“Okay, okay!" She was apparently beside herself over Chloe’s divine revelations of little ol’ me and my mighty powers of darkness.
I mean, who the hell in their right mind would make a ghost?
“The witches believe….”
“Pagan” Aren admonished, giving her sister a look.
“Yeah, O-KAY!” Sayre shouted, impatiently, about to burst. “Pagans believe that everyone is born with the four elements, but individuals are of one element more than others.” She stared meaningfully at me.
When I refused to acknowledge her obviousness, she raised her eyebrows and nodded, all but screaming hint, hint, as she waited for me to admit my mystical earth connection.
My face stayed blank, giving her nothing to work with and she heaved a sigh.
“I’m water,” she said helpfully and nodded her head at me to jump right in.
Chloe snorted, “Fickle, flighty and unpredictable.”
“Jealous!” Sayre raspberried the older woman, who to my shock, smiled at the rude noise.
“Earth has an affinity for kitchen magic.” Aren chimed in softly. She shrugged at me almost apologetically, a doctor breaking the bad news. “Also animals, plants and solitude.”
"There is a fifth element," Aren said. "Spirit. It's what we connect with when we cast. We combine Spirit with Wind, Water, Fire or Earth."
"A rare person is born with both a primal element and spirit," Chloe said, avoiding my eyes.
It was dead silent and I knew they were all eager to hear me say I was spirit and earth, but screw that noise.
“Oooh, we could get your charts done!” Sayre squealed. “Field trip.”
Aren and Chloe laughed, but I was quiet, thinking what it meant if it was true. Then I realized it didn't matter. Just because you are born athletic didn't mean you had to play. And I really had no intention of playing. I wanted to learn just enough to keep the bad things away and then be as normal as possible. This was the first chance I had to ask questions of someone who knew, so I might as well take advantage of it, but it didn't mean I was into this stuff…or these people. I cleared my throat.
“I have a question,” I said ignoring Sayre’s ridiculous enthusiasm.
Chloe looked down and smiled this disturbingly sad smile. "You will have many," she said softly.
I was, for a flash minute, really irritated. I mean, come on already. I'm not much for people who milk their sob stories and I had no intention of feeling special witchflake. Only, when she turned her eyes to me, I saw not pity for herself, but for me. The feeling was not good and I cleared my throat before asking.
“When you said air is used for what is and what may be? What does that mean? How is that different from water and summoning?”
“Let me see if I know, Chlo,” Aren said, “and you let me know if I stray off?”
Chloe nodded wearily. She was back to being exhausted by life.
“You can cast on air for energies in this, our realm. That can be either an energy you know is present, like a “haunted” house has a reputation or you can cast to see if anything is actually present.” Aren turned to the older woman and raised her eyebrows questioningly.
Chloe nodded and spoke “With all practices, caution is
required and protection is a must. Never leave yourself open to…” she trailed off, swallowing hard, her eyes drilling into mine. The sudden intense eye contact was startling. “Protect yourself,” she said finally,
I nodded. Me and Aren were going to have a long talk about protection. From my view, I was way more interested in warding the spooks off, then attracting them to me.
“So how does that differ from water and, um, calling them forth?”
Chloe’s hands tightened on the hands of her chair and her head whipped back and forth in a quick denial of the question or maybe the answer. Sayre, who was no doubt class clown in her day, gave me the one raised eyebrow and a wink. That had to be a genetic thing.
I was both fascinated and repelled by the intensity of emotion coming from Chloe. If I was, as Aren kept insisting, better at this crap than Chloe and she was this messed up, I wanted no part of it. Except, like it or not, it was happening to me, like it had to Chloe. I just didn't know if was she truly tormented or just a big drama queen.
Aren laid her hand on Chloe’s arm, reassuring her as she answered. “The use of the water element is deliberate as a protection against the danger involved. It is not an invoking element, but a repellant to those called from the other side, those who have moved from beyond our world, and some say those that are not of our world and were never meant to be.”
Chloe moaned out loud, a guttural, ugly sound. And this time I gave eyebrows to Sayre, who bit her lip hastily. Aren frowned at us both and I tried to look blank.
I have always been a survivor, but when it comes to a fight or flight response, I'm a fighter. When I get too scared, I get angry and then I fight. Right then and there, I decided I was never going to give up my sanity to something spooky. A little angry ball of determination swelled inside of me and I met Aren’s eyes, all amusement gone. She nodded and continued.