by KT Webb
“If you’re not ready to bring them to us, then why are you calling? It’s dangerous to use your magic right now.”
Dee sighed. “This is harder than I thought it would be. I like these girls; they’re my friends, I want to tell them everything. Wouldn’t it be so much easier if I just told them what we need?”
“Don’t you dare! This is a delicate situation. If you breathe one word of this, I’ll see to it that you’re grounded.”
A sharp intake of breath from Dee told Harper this was a despicable threat. When her mom grounded her it sucked, but it wasn’t the end of the world. It seemed strange that Dee sounded so upset by the possibility of being grounded.
“How dare you! You may be powerful, but don’t forget who you’re talking to, Brennus.”
“You would be wise to do the same, Dee.”
Harper waited for a few more minutes before she decided to sneak out of her spot. The first thing she needed to do was talk to her mom. She may feel betrayed, but she also needed answers. If magic was real and her mother had kept it from her, she didn’t know if she would be able to forgive her. Her entire life had been spent buried deep inside the fantasy worlds she found in books, movies, TV shows, and comic books.
Every wish she’d ever made had been for her to have magical powers. Her mom knew how difficult it was for her to be the “weird kid” with the big imagination; if there had been even a kernel of truth to her hopes and dreams, she should have been told.
She found her mom sitting with the other girls in the break room. Dee was back at the table though she seemed to have distanced herself from the others. Harper eyed her warily. She wasn’t about to confront Dee before she had more information. The only person she knew she could trust was the one person who had kept everything a secret.
“Mom? I’m ready for that talk now.”
Abigail stood and pulled her into a tight hug. She turned to the other girls and said, “We’ll be back. Please, make yourselves at home.”
She led her down the hall to her office. The two sat facing each other on the leather couch in the corner. Harper couldn’t help but remember the last time she sat here with her mom; the first day of school. one of the few friends she had at school had moved away over the summer leaving Harper to fend for herself. She’d felt lonely and depressed.
“Look, honey, I want to let you know that I didn’t want to hide anything from you.”
“Okay, but you did. My whole life I’ve felt like an outsider because I love all things supernatural and science fiction. Now I find out that at least some of that is true and you knew all along!”
Harper closed her eyes and tried not to let the frustrated tears escape. She felt her mom gently touch her hand, and then grasp it.
“I won’t ask you to understand why I kept this from you. It’s one of those crappy decisions parents make. I wanted to protect you.”
“Protect me from what? Those four girls in the other room? Give me a break!”
“There are very dangerous people out there. The men they were talking about are very powerful. They represent darkness, evil and violence. They’ll kill you!”
Harper stared at her mother; she didn’t know what to say. It was selfish to be upset about her mom trying to keep her safe. She had a legitimate reason, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. A million questions fluttered across her mind, but the one that kept resurfacing seemed to offer the safest answer.
“Do you have magic too?”
Abigail shook her head. “Not in the way you will. I have what my mother and grandmother had before me. It’s what we call trace magic. I can perform spells and put up wards for protection, but I don’t have any physical manifestations of magic.”
“Neither do I.” How could everyone be so sure she was a witch?
“And I had hoped it would stay that way. The arrival of these girls tells me that we are headed for dark times. There hasn’t been an active coven of true witches in centuries.”
Harper studied her mother’s face. The pale, rounded cheeks and freckles that mirrored her own had not changed, but it appeared the woman behind them had. Suddenly, Harper saw her mother as so much more than the gentle soul bandaging her scraped knee, and comforting her when someone mocked her fandom t-shirts. The woman in front of her was brave and fierce; she knew her craft and would teach her daughter, even if it went against everything she’d wished.
“Listen honey, you’re going to have to leave soon. They won’t stop until they find you, and I’d rather you have a head start.”
Harper shook her head; of course, her mother would be coming with them. How else would they know what they needed to do next? They would never be safe again if they didn’t learn about these men who pursued them.
“Please don’t argue with me about this. I will do what I can to teach you girls some simple protection spells, but the closer you get to sixteen, the more they will sense your magic.”
Abigail touched her daughters face and traced a finger down her jaw. She lifted Harper’s chin and looked her in the eyes. Harper saw a flash of green in the deep blue oceans that stared back at her. In that moment, she saw a thousand lifetimes and knew who she truly was; the present day incarnation of Imbolc, a member of the First Coven.
Harper
Chapter Fourteen
Late Night Chats
It wasn’t exactly fun to share a room with four other teenage girls. The blow-up bed her mother had set up for Sutton and Dee made an annoying squawking sound every time either of them moved. Harper had relinquished her double bed for Grace and Lucy, and she attempted to sleep on the old cot her dad bought at an Army surplus store. As she gingerly rolled onto her side, the cot creaked and shifted causing her heart to skip a beat.
Sleep eluded her. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the lives of each witch who passed before her, but most importantly, she saw the face of Imbolc; the start of her bloodline. The young woman could have been her sister. They looked so much alike, right down to the luminescent green eyes she shared with the witches in her room.
There was something else nagging at the corner of her mind. She couldn’t quite grasp the thought that kept flitting about, unfinished. With a final flop on the cot, she tried to force her mind to shut off long enough for sleep to claim her. Her thoughts turned to Dee. She hadn’t told anyone what she’d overheard. Not yet anyway. Harper couldn’t help but wonder what Dee was hiding. Was she a witch too?
Careful not to make a sound, Harper held onto the side of her cot and slid her body sideways. One hand rested on the cold wooden floor, followed by a foot, she repeated the motion until she ended up doing downward facing dog in the quiet darkness. She stood up, glancing over her shoulder at the other girls, fast asleep. It had been years since she’d stirred her mother for a late-night snack and chat session, but this seemed to be the perfect night.
Harper’s father snored loudly as she crept around the bed to her mother’s side. When she was a little girl, she learned not to stare at her mother while she was sleeping. It was a sure way to get shoved. Whispering “mom” until she woke was also not a good idea; it led to hysterical screams. The best way to wake her mother was by saying the magic words.
“Ice cream.”
A grin spread across her face and she slowly opened her eyes. Harper knew she didn’t have to say anything else, she turned and carefully picked her way down the hall, making sure to avoid the creaky boards. As she pulled the ice cream out of the freezer, her mom shuffled into the room. Harper threw a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud at the crazy hair her mother was sporting. She cleared her throat and handed over a spoon. They each took a few bites, savoring the deliciousness in silence.
Harper wasn’t sure what she was hoping to discuss with her mom. Maybe she was grasping for some sense of normalcy now that her life had been turned upside down. Instead of talking about the mall or what she should do with her hair, she chose a more interesting topic.
“So, i
f witches are real, does that mean there are other things out there too?”
“Like what?”
“Unicorns? Vampires? Demons? Sam and Dean? Buffy? The Doctor?”
Her mom laughed. “Unicorns, I’m not sure. Vampires, maybe. Demons definitely exist. The rest? I wish!”
“Are there other witches?”
“There are other practicing witches, but they’re not true witches like you and the other girls.”
“What about those guys that are chasing us? Are they demons?”
“No. Dub, Dother, and Dian are the sons of an evil sorceress from Greece and an Irish god. He was already married to a goddess when he had an affair with Carman. He left her to return to Ireland, and she decided to exact her revenge.”
“Was Carman mortal?”
“No. She had the blood of the gods running through her veins, but she wasn’t a goddess herself.”
Harper took another bite of ice cream and thought about the insanity of being chased down by the immortal sons of a god. Her life was even crazier than she once thought.
“So, what do they want?”
“They want their mother to be released from the Otherworld. When Carman came to Ireland to get her man, she brought her sons. Their father was Cichol, King of the Fomorians. She wanted him to leave his wife and return to Athens with her. When he wouldn’t, she cursed Ireland to be a barren land. Her curse touched all who lived there; no children were born, no food was grown. It was a dark time for Ireland.”
“Wow, that whole ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ thing has never been more accurate.”
Her mom chuckled. “You have no idea.”
“What’s a Fomorian?”
“They were basically the Empire.”
Harper grinned at the reference. Having parents who accept your oddities is one thing; having parents who embrace and understand them is something else entirely. She may have felt a bit different at school, but she always felt right at home with her parents.
“You said ‘were,’ does that mean they aren’t around anymore?” She took another bite of ice cream and let it melt in her mouth.
“You know, I’m not sure. There aren’t any modern stories about them. Most of the Celtic deities fell to the wayside, just as the gods and goddesses of Greece and Rome aren’t at the center of their civilizations anymore.”
Harper watched her mom put the ice cream back in the freezer and rinse the spoons. She hoisted herself up on the kitchen counter as she waited to see if that would be the end of the late-night chat or if they would go on. It wasn’t like she had school in the morning and Abigail had already told her she wasn’t going to work until they’d sorted everything out with their house guests.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” her mom crooked her finger and led the way down the hall to her study.
When they got to the room she’d spent so much time in as a child, she perched on the edge of her favorite armchair. She couldn’t remember how many times she had sat in that same spot reading one of the hundreds of books on the built-in shelves surrounding her. It had never occurred to her that there be anything more than fantastic stories within the hardbound covers.
Her mom knelt behind her solid oak desk. Harper leaned forward, straining to see what she was going to pop up with; when she finally emerged, Harper wasn’t disappointed. The polished top of a slab of wood was stunted by the rough edges. It was as though a slice had been taken from a tree to create the masterpiece that now lay before her.
Harper had never seen a real spirit board. Of course, the one time she attended a sleep over, the girls had pulled out the store bought, heavy cardboard version known as a Ouija Board; but this was different. The hand painted letters stood out against the honey color produced by the clear lacquer that sealed the wood. A sudden chill rippled through her body as she studied every detail. The planchette was rounded on two of the three points; the top point was slightly harsher. An intricate carving adorned not only the pointer, but the board as well.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s dangerous,” her mom warned her. “You have to be very careful when you use a spirit board. You never know who you might contact on the other side. Never forget to put up wards and perform the protection rituals before trying to contact anyone or anything.”
Anything? Harper wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that at all. She watched in silence as her mom set the candles up like an expert. It was clear she’d done this before; Harper didn’t know if that should make her feel more comfortable or more on edge.
“We’re going to see if we can reach your grandma, and her mother. We may even try to reach farther than that. . .we need to find out if they have any inkling of what will happen next.”
“We’re going to what now? Seriously. . .we can just call Grams on this thing?”
Abigail giggled. “It’s not quite that easy.”
After pouring a white substance in a circle that Harper guessed was salt, she placed candles along the circle around the board. It was wide enough for them to sit in the space that separated the board from the candles and protective barrier of salt. Between the candles, she placed various crystals that had been sitting unnoticed on the book shelves. Harper recognized amber, emerald, and peridot, but there were a few others she couldn’t name.
“Come here, copy everything I do, then we’ll cast the circle of protection together.”
Harper followed her example and stood in the center of the circle, facing her mom. She spread her arms wide with palms facing out. They took deep, cleansing breaths with their eyes closed. It was as though they were inviting the positive energy into the circle. Goosebumps ran along their arms and the hair on the back of Harper’s neck stood on end. She was in sync with her mom and didn’t have to look at her to know what to do next.
They dropped their left hands and pointed their right hands to the edge of the circle. Still facing each other, they turned clockwise in a circle three times. Both of them raised their hands above their heads.
“I ask that the Goddess bless this circle so that we may be free and protected within this space. So mote it be.”
An imperceptible shimmer caught the corner of her eye as they lowered themselves to opposite sides of the spirit board. It was almost as if Harper could see the protective shield they’d conjured.
“Now, we each place a fingertip on the planchette and begin the summoning.”
She did as she was told; the energy crackled around them.
“We call to you, daughters of Imbolc. We beseech you to impart your wisdom upon us so that we may offer guidance to the last coven of true witches. We call to you now, Maggie Malone and Violet Harper. Cross the great divide, share your knowledge.”
A cool breeze picked up out of nowhere and wrapped itself around them in a comforting embrace. The scent of spearmint and freshly baked monster cookies filled the air, causing both Abigail and Harper to inhale deeply. They grinned at each other as two figures took shape just outside the circle.
“My Abby, how you’ve grown.” The old woman’s voice shook as she regarded Harper’s mother. This must have been the strong-willed woman she’d gotten her name from.
“Grandma Vi! I’ve missed you so much. And mom, not a day goes by when I don’t practice everything you taught me.”
Harper stared with wide-eyes. Grams had died only a few years before, but her Great Grams had passed away before Harper was born. The thought of having all four generations together in a room was exhilarating.
“You must be Harper. I’ve heard a lot about you from this one.” Great Grams jerked her thumb at her own daughter.
She swallowed against the tears that threatened to form as she continued to stare at the spirits in front of her. “Hi, Great Grams. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, nothing about me? I see how it is!” Grams crossed her arms in mock offense.
“Grams, it’s great to see you again. I never even knew it was an option until tonight.”
Abigail quickly brought them up to speed on their situation, but the older women already knew what they’d been called for.
“My goddess girl, the Otherworld isn’t completely cut off from the goings-on of the mortal realm,” Grams admonished her daughter. “Everyone is in quite a tizzy about the storm that’s brewing.”
“What storm?” Harper’s curiosity got the better of her.
Great Grams shook her head, “We can’t tell you everything that’s going on over here. You’re not ready for the Otherworld yet, love. Mortals aren’t to know about this side until they pass over.”
“I understand there are rules, but we need to know what the girls should do next. They can’t just sit around and wait for the sons of Carman to find them,” Abigail said.