By Wind

by T Thorn Coyle

  That pissed him off. Caroline actually smiled. It felt good to feel so confident again. She hadn’t felt this way since she was nine, at her first swim meet. She’d won first place that day. Sure, she hated Rafe’s screaming, and the back of her mind still felt some fear, but mostly? She felt exactly as though an angel had her back.

  13

  Brenda

  Mount Tabor was beautiful. The tulip trees were in flower, the pines towered, children shrieked, and dogs ran and barked, happy to be outside when it wasn’t wet and raining. The wind whipped pollen through the air. Brenda blinked her eyes against it, and sneezed.

  Ah, the start of allergy season. Oh joy. All beauty had its price, and runny nose and eyes were a pain, but she was willing to pay it.

  Raquel, her best friend of many years, her coven sister, her magical peer, or sometimes mentor and confidant, walked at her side. Raquel’s son, Zion, scrambled up ahead, pausing occasionally to look at something on the ground. Then he would wave, and race ahead again.

  It was cute. He was acting ten instead of thirteen. Spring had that effect on everyone, it seemed.

  Brenda’s quadriceps and the tendons around her knees began to burn. She’d been too sedentary over the winter. But it was spring now, and she felt it in her blood. Her body wanted movement, and outdoors, and lighter food. The attraction to Caroline was part of that, too. She smiled. Despite Brenda’s current problems, Caroline showing up in the shop was a good thing. It reminded Brenda that there was more to life than just work and coven. She was a woman with a sex drive. Maybe even a woman hoping to get laid.

  Don’t get ahead of yourself, Brenda thought. That woman is clearly running from something. There’s no telling what she needs.

  “So, you ready to talk some more about what’s going on? About why you’re so afraid of angels?” Raquel asked. She was barely out of breath despite the steep climb, damn her anyway. Brenda knew Raquel didn’t have any more time for exercise than she did, but maybe running the café was enough of a workout on its own.

  Brenda looked to her friend, the familiar face she loved so much. The dreadlocks tied back with a purple scarf. The full lips and high cheekbones. The dark eyes that saw way too much. Damn those eyes, she was going to have to spill, wasn’t she? She couldn’t keep anything from Raquel.

  The fact that she’d asked for this walk today so she could talk to her friend didn’t seem to make a dent in Brenda’s avoidance. Gah. What was wrong with her?

  “I don’t suppose you’ll let me wait till we get to the top of the hill?”

  “Come on, Brenda, just rip the bandage off, why don’t you? We already talked about some of it with the coven, and I know you didn’t just ask Zion and me out for a walk today for nothing. Not that you don’t like us, but…”

  Brenda stared at the sunlight refracting into pinpricks and ribbons through the trees.

  Raquel shook her head and started walking again. “I don’t see Zion anymore and this mountain isn’t going to walk itself. Let’s keep going.”

  The two women leaned forward, arms pumping their way up the dormant cinder cone.

  “Twice now, this shaft of light made me vomit. Does that sound like an angel to you? Really?”

  Brenda rubbed the pollen out of her eyes and blew her nose with a tissue she found in her jacket pocket. Raquel took off her sweatshirt and tied it around her hips. The day was still cool, but walking up Mount Tabor made a person sweat in any weather.

  “Yes. Actually, it does sound like an angel,” Raquel replied. “Or some sort of powerful presence, at any rate. You want to know what else I think?”

  No. Brenda didn’t want to know.

  “I’m so afraid, Raquel. I have been scared like this in years. I honestly…”

  “You honestly don’t want to admit you’ve been visited by an angel, and that it just may change the course of your life,” Raquel finished her sentence. That’s what psychic best friends do: they saw into your soul and finished speaking the words you didn’t want to hear or say.

  “I banished it.”

  “What you mean, you banished it?”

  Brenda held up her hands, as if to ward off any opposition.

  “Come on! It didn’t announce itself. It just showed up in my life and started wreaking havoc. And how do I know what it is? What if it isn’t an angel? I didn’t banish it all the way. I just told it not to come back unless it was going to offer some actual help.” Her breath was coming more rapidly and her steps slowed way down. Ugh. She really needed to get into better condition. “Besides, I’m a witch. I’m not some New Age flunky, preaching light and love and the Law of Attraction to cure all ills.”

  “Oh come on. I’m not buying all of that for one minute,” Raquel snapped back. “Well, I’ll take your point that we’re not sure yet it whether or not the being is actually an angel. But the rest? Seriously? You are oh so not going to convince me that you’re too good to work with angels just because you’re a witch. You know as well as I do that the hype isn’t the story. You know what angels actually are. Or you should.”

  Raquel gave her a powerful side-eye, then swept her arms around as if she could encompass every tree and bush on the bursting-with-springtime cinder cone. “Look around. If I were to tell you it’s almost Equinox and I saw fairy behind that hawthorn tree over there, what would your response be?”

  “Fine. Point taken.” But fairies were fairies. Angels were…something else. Eunuchs. Tainted by too many years of white light.

  Raquel kept walking. They skirted around an old chalet-looking building that must’ve been built in the ’30s. Thank the Gods and Goddesses they were almost at the top.

  “Point better be taken. If you can work with fairies and the Goddess Diana, and any number of your disembodied spirit guides, you can work with angels.”

  “I know.” Brenda huffed. “Maybe I’m just having an identity crisis.”

  “Might that have anything to do with that woman you told me came into the shop?”

  That startled a laugh out of Brenda. She practically barked with it. She knew just how the dogs felt.

  “I don’t think that’s an identity crisis,” Brenda said. “I do think that it may be some sort of spring fever. She’s a little spooked, though. So I’m not even sure if anything is going to come of it.”

  They reached the narrow road that wound its way around the cinder cone. At the edge near the top, there was an old-fashioned brass water fountain. Brenda paused and swept her hair back from her face, then bent to taste the cool, clear water. Water from the Bull Run reservoir just north of the city. It was Brenda’s favorite taste in the whole world and one of the things that tied her to this land.

  Brenda stretched her legs a bit as Raquel took her turn to drink, looking across the grassy knoll at the top of the hill towards the big bronze statue of Harvey Scott, pioneer, newspaperman, and Republican. There should have been a statue of Chief Joseph up here instead, but that was the way of things. Rich white men got the statues, native people got worse than nothing.

  “You hope something will come of it?”

  Brenda nodded. “Yeah, I do, which is a nice thing to feel after all this time.”

  “And how are you going to figure out whether or not this is an angel or something else?”

  “Well, I do have a shop full of books I can consult. And just today someone’s been reminding me that I have friends that can help.”

  Raquel grinned at her. “I hear some of those friends are pretty good psychics. Maybe we could tune in, see what we can see.”

  “And if all else fails,” Brenda said, “I guess I can always call on the OTO. They work a lot with angels and with demons, don’t they?”

  The Ordo Templi Orientis, a ceremonial magic group founded by the notorious Aleister Crowley.

  “That they do,” Raquel replied. “Shall we go see what Zion’s up to?”

  “Yeah, let’s.”

  Brenda had to admit she still felt uneasy, but it was a beautiful day
, and Raquel was right. She did have friends.

  You need to stop being so stubborn, she thought. You don’t have to do everything alone.

  A man in jogging clothes ran up to Brenda, weaving and panting as he came. His face was pale, and he looked scared out of his wits.

  “They won’t leave me alone! Can you help me?” He stopped in front of the two witches, and clutched at Brenda’s arm. She looked at his wild eyes, and felt a strange energy roiling around him, ripping through his aura.

  Sowing discord, she thought.

  She glanced over his shoulder, making sure Zion was safe. He romped happily on the grassy knoll, chasing a slobbering mastiff in circles, shrieking.

  Raquel stepped forward. “Sir, let go of my friend, and then we’ll see if we can help you.” Her friend’s firm tone snapped him awake, and he let go.

  “Oh my God,” he said. “I’m so sorry…I don’t know what’s happening. I’m so sorry.”

  “Why don’t you sit down?” Raquel said, and gently led him to a bench next to the drinking fountain.

  He sat, head in his hands, bent forward over his knees. His running shoes were fancy, neon yellow, and matched the stripes on his track pants.

  Brenda sat next to him, as Raquel crouched at his side. She saw Raquel motion for Zion to stay away. That was wise.

  “What’s happening?” Brenda asked. “Are you in danger?”

  He looked up, first at Brenda, then at Raquel. “Its…voices. It’s as if they’re chasing me. Telling me terrible, terrible things. Oh God, why am I even talking to you?”

  “Because you know we might be able to help,” Brenda replied.

  “What are the voices saying?” Raquel asked.

  “Different things. Sometimes they tell me I’m a failure, and that’s why my wife left me. Sometimes they show me images of horrible things. People being beaten. Tortured. Raped. Other times?”

  He was panting again, and bent back over his knees.

  Brenda lightly touched his shoulder. “Other times?”

  “They tell me to kill myself. And they make me want to.”

  Raquel looked at Brenda over the man’s hunched form.

  “This is bad,” she said. “Is this what the other people are saying?”

  Brenda nodded, feeling grim, as though all of the sunlight had left them, and a bank of dark clouds had moved in overhead. She looked up, past the towering stands of pine. The sky was still blue. “Some of them.”

  “I think we need to start gathering information. And I hate to say it, but that angel you just banished?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re going to have to call it back.”

  14

  Caroline

  Caroline looked around the bright, airy room. The big, plate glass windows of the restaurant let in every bit of the late afternoon sun, warming up the wooden floors and spilling across the mismatched tables, benches, and chairs. The place was called Savory, and if the smells emerging from the open kitchen hatch were any indication, the food here was pretty good. The place was vegetarian, which wasn’t Caroline’s first choice, but Brenda had suggested it.

  She could see why. Besides being near Brenda’s shop, the restaurant was bustling, and the open space somehow managed to feel homey despite the industrial beams overhead, crossing the high ceiling. Large black-and-white photographs of the city hung on the whitewashed brick walls.

  “Excuse me.” A muscular black man in a Doctor Who T-shirt startled her. “Are you in line?”

  “Oh! No. Sorry, I’m just waiting for my friend.”

  The man smiled and scooted around her, joining the line to order at the counter in the middle of the room.

  With a tinkling of jewelry, and the scent of jasmine wafting from her freshly washed hair, Brenda practically floated into the space.

  Caroline couldn’t help it, she felt warm inside just looking at the woman. Before she knew it, she was smiling, and Brenda was holding out her arms. Today’s tunic was a delicate weave of blue-and-orange chevrons that draped enticingly over her slender frame. It was layered over black leggings and low-heeled black boots. The moonstone gleamed at her breastbone. It suited her. With her wavy dark hair piled up in an artful bun, stray locks cascading around her face, she looked beautiful.

  Caroline walked toward her, and allowed herself to move into the other woman’s embrace. She had to admit it felt good. Soft. Strong. Like a place she could hang out for a while. But she pulled back all the same.

  After the two women separated, Brenda held onto Caroline’s shoulders for a beat, blue eyes searching her face.

  “I’m glad you called,” Brenda said. “Are you hungry? I’m ravenous. Raquel and I went on a hike today. That’s why I didn’t answer when you called. And why I’m slightly late.” She gestured to her outfit. “I figured sweaty and in hiking clothes wasn’t a great way to show up for a date.”

  A date? Is that what Brenda thought this was?

  Her face must have showed panic, because Brenda quickly squeezed her arm in reassurance. “Hey. I just meant…it doesn’t have to be that kind of a date. I know you need to talk. And that’s fine with me. Okay?”

  Caroline nodded, and exhaled. Chill out, she told herself.

  Then she realized that yes, she was hungry. She hadn’t made herself any lunch after the conversation with Rafe. She had called Brenda right away and left a message. Then Caroline had sunk into the claw-foot tub in the bathroom next to her bedroom at Sydney and Dan’s. By the time Brenda called her back and suggested they meet up for dinner, Caroline had forgotten all about lunch.

  “What’s good?”

  Brenda perused the menu as they shuffled toward the counter. “I’m a fan of the yam noodles. And the salads. But pretty much everything here is good.”

  Caroline looked at the chalkboard above the counter and was relieved to find that they served beer and wine. After that phone call, she wanted a drink. And not a kale smoothie.

  She could feel Brenda next to her, and Caroline found that her body wanted to lean towards her again. But she didn’t trust that. She frankly didn’t trust much of anything, except maybe the energy she’d felt humming between the medallion of Michael and the amethyst point. The necklaces were quiet now, but still felt good. Reassuring somehow.

  They found a table for two tucked into a corner. The wood chairs were smooth, and the old table had been painted white at some point. Caroline sipped her pinot noir. It had a slight tang of vinegar. Not the world’s most expensive wine, but it would do. It certainly wasn’t as good as the wine at Sydney’s house.

  “So, do you want to talk about what happened?” Brenda’s voice was gentle, pitched low to undercut the music and the conversations around them, just loud enough to reach Caroline’s waiting ears.

  The air felt thick all of a sudden, as if the atmosphere had increased somehow, sort of what it felt like walking into a sauna, but without the heat. Caroline’s stomach lurched. She took another swallow of wine, and tried to steady herself with her free hand, palm flat on the surface of the table.

  “Caroline! Are you all right?”

  Caroline shook her head, trying to clear it, and looked at the woman sitting across the small table.

  She gasped.

  Light shimmered around Brenda’s head. It looked like a halo, except more misty, less defined. Layers of purple shaded into a golden white, shifting color from her head outward.

  “I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve never…”

  The medallion at Caroline’s breastbone heated up, humming and buzzing, talking to the amethyst. Talking to her heart? No. She didn’t know.

  “Just give me a moment.”

  Caroline sipped the wine, and let her eyes stray to Brenda’s face, then to her lips. Despite the inner protestation that she wasn’t going there, Caroline felt a strong urge to lean over the table and kiss the cranberry lipstick off of Brenda’s mouth.

  Maybe that was what the strange pressure change was all about. Now that she t
hought of it, it felt a lot like lust and attraction. That sense that your skin was reaching out toward the other person’s. As if your molecules were thick, filling the space between your body and theirs.

  She hadn’t felt this in forever.

  But that didn’t explain the light still wreathing Brenda’s head. Maybe she could just ignore all of it for now.

  Caroline looked down into the wine glass, at the way the quirky chandelier overhead sending sparks of light into the ruby-colored liquid.

  “My husband called,” she finally said.

  “Oh. Are you okay?” Brenda reached a hand across the table. Caroline slid her fingers into Brenda’s palm, and gave her hand a squeeze before letting go. She didn’t want to let go.

  Brenda continued, “I mean, I guess you’re not okay or you wouldn’t have called me. What I meant to say is, what can I do?”

  Brenda’s words made Caroline want to cry. She didn’t know if it was just that she was still exhausted, or that it had been so long since she’d been able to unburden herself on others, and people just kept showing up to help. Sydney and Dan, and now this woman who was a stranger but was rapidly feeling like a friend. Tears pooled in her eyes. She pressed her fingers against them, trying to hold the water at bay.

  “Shit,” Caroline said.

  Brenda handed her a clean tissue. Caroline wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  “Thanks. It’s strange,” she said. “I hate that he called, and I hate that he yelled at me. He’s always yelling at me. But today?”

  She looked at Brenda, and this time, she was the one who reached her hand across the table. Brenda’s hands were warm around her own.

  “Today?” Brenda asked.

  “I felt calm. And I know this is going to sound strange, but I think it has to do with the medallion I bought from The Road Home.”