by Rue
“You hunt moa?” asked Flynn, a twinge of surprise in her thin voice.
“Kowao hunt what we find. A moa can feed our tribe well.” Ash ducked under a low hanging branch and forgot her own rule as she added another question, “Don’t you eat moa?”
“We use them for travel and to carry heavy bundles. We only eat them when they can no longer be of service,” replied Flynn.
Kano laughed and rubbed her belly.
Ash glanced back and chuckled, “Yes, Kano, the moa can always be of service to our bellies.”
Flynn replayed recent events and even in her weakened state she was sure she had never heard Kano speak. “Does Kano speak?”
Ash’s shoulders clenched as she spoke. “I am what you would call a Watcher and when they discovered Kano couldn’t speak, the villagers of Piper Run took it as a bad omen. That is when we joined the Kowao. They welcomed our strong arms and sharp eyes.” Ash extended her free hand; Kano ran to it and grabbed it with both of her small dirty palms. They walked hand in hand.
Flynn wondered why she had never heard of the Kowao. What if my village had forced someone out into the wilderness because they were different? She chuckled when she realized her own predicament—not forced, but alone in the wilderness, nonetheless.
Ash turned toward Flynn, her jaw rigid, and her golden eyes flashed warning. “Do you mock us?”
“What?” Flynn felt dizzy and wondered if she had laughed out loud. “Oh, no, no, no. I promise on the Goddess, I was not laughing at you.” She didn’t want to tell her whole story, but she could safely tell a bit of it to explain her chuckle. “You see, up until a few days ago, everyone called me a Watcher. My whole village knew, and they only tolerated me because my mother is the High Priestess.”
Ash pulled her supporting arm from Flynn, pushed Kano behind her and broadened her shoulders protectively. “You are a witch?”
“I think so, but I mean you no harm.” Flynn fumbled with her bleary thoughts and finally blurted, “I’m on a Seeking. The witch of the wood sent me into the wilderness to find my magick. I’m simply traveling and trying to figure out who I am, and who I’m supposed to be.”
“The Witch of the Wood sent you?” Ash relaxed her shoulders and squinted her eyes.
“Do you know Pounamu?” asked Flynn.
“We trade our taro for her healing potions. The Kowao have no magick, but we live in harmony with the Earth and follow the flow of the Mother.”
Flynn smiled, “I still have to use a fire starter, I can’t perform any spells or anything. I guess my magick doesn’t work like other witches.”
Kano peeked out from behind her mother and pointed to the falcon.
“Ah, yes, Oturu. The Vignan Falconers gifted her to my mother, but it turns out she is quite terrified of hunting and faints at the sight or smell of blood.” Flynn whispered the last bit.
Kano giggled and hugged her mother’s waist. She pointed to the bird and pointed to her own ears.
“Kano wants to know if you can hear the bird, she means talk to the bird, I think?” Ash tilted her head and waved away Flynn’s answer. “Enough of this chatter. You need one of the healing potions I spoke of and a safe night’s rest.” She slipped a supportive arm around Flynn’s back and said, “Come, our camp is around this hill. You are welcome to travel with us as long as the Mother allows, Flynn Hawthorn of Moa Bend. You and your strange bird.”
Pounamu pulled her cloak tight against the wind as she neared Moa Bend; the warmth of summer waned with the daylight. This made her third trip in a week and today the Grand Coven would finally make its decision about Flynn. She could’ve spent another night with the High Priestess, but it seemed that Dreamwood Forest was only kept outside the walls of her small cottage by her continued presence. So, she journeyed back and forth to lay the last piece of her plan before the Grand Coven. First, however, she would stop once more at the Healing Hut.
“Mistress Pounamu, can I get you a cup of hot tea? The walk from Dreamwood must have chilled you to the bone,” Nokomis offered with a smile. The Mistress of Healing wore her luxuriant brown hair in a thick tidy braid and she smelled of lavender, mugwort, and bitter weed.
“You are too kind, Mistress Nokomis. My bones have forgotten more about weather than I care to admit, but a cup of your sage tea would be most welcome.”
Nokomis hurried off to fetch the tea and Pounamu settled in beside Hazel’s bed.
“How are you feeling today, my darling?” Pounamu leaned her staff against the wall and smiled.
“You have to get me out of here, Pounamu. I know they’re only keeping me here so I don’t run off after Flynn, but I promise I won’t. I can’t stand another minute of lying in this bed. I might forget how to walk.” Hazel let out an exasperated sigh.
“Have you been neglected?”
“I wish!” Hazel blurted. “Po has been in here every single day.” She pointed to a growing collection of small wooden figurines on her bedside table. “He brings me a new one every day and tells me to be patient and listen to Mistress Nokomis—”
“And he is correct, youngling,” Mistress Nokomis jumped to Po’s defense. “That boy has to be chased out of here every day. We should all be so lucky to have a friend like him.”
Pounamu saw the desperation in Hazel’s face. “Mistress Nokomis, I will need Hazel to speak before the Grand Coven today. Do you think that she can leave for a short outing?”
Hazel held her breath.
“Does the High Priestess know of this?” asked Nokomis.
“I will see to everything, my darling. You leave it in my hands. Hazel will be watched every minute and I will not allow her to over exert herself.” Pounamu stared directly at Nokomis.
Hazel saw a sparkle of magick in those swirling emerald eyes.
“See that she remains calm and drinks plenty of water.” Nokomis fetched the clean set of clothes Hazel’s mother had dropped off yesterday and placed it on the bed. “No running. No shouting. No excitement of any kind. Is that understood, Hazel?”
“Of course, Mistress Nokomis.” Hazel kept her quivering hands folded under the sheet. She wanted to jump up and down on the bed and scream for joy, but somehow she managed to sit quietly until Nokomis excused herself from the room.
Pounamu smirked.
Hazel climbed out of bed and flung her arms around the old witch’s neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Get dressed, my darling. If anyone bothers to check my story this will be a brief outing indeed.” Pounamu stood and picked up her staff.
Hazel had never gotten dressed faster in her life. She wanted to run from the Healing Hut, but Pounamu put a firm hand on her shoulder and they slowly made their way out the door and across the Ceremonial Lawn.
Once they were out of sight of the Healing Hut, Hazel jumped up and down. “All right, how quickly can I get to Flynn?”
“That is not possible, my darling. As I told you, several times this week, Flynn is on her Seeking and no one can hasten her return. I truly need you to speak to the Grand Coven today. You are the only one who can verify Flynn’s ability to astral travel within Dreamwood Forest. If we are to have any chance of convincing them to keep her in the levels, they must fully understand what could be lost if they push her too fast.”
Hazel’s shoulders sagged. “But I miss her so much, I mean, I never got to tell her how sorry I was—”
“You will have your chance to restore the balance when you speak to the Grand Coven. This is our last opportunity to ease them toward the decision we seek. Understood?” asked Pounamu with a wink.
“Of course, I want to do my part to help Flynn stay in the levels and have more time…” She couldn’t bring herself to say anything about defeating Magdelana. The icy terror of their confrontation in the House of Magickal Items still felt as fresh as if it had happened yesterday, and she was in no hurry to push her best friend toward another battle with the shadow witch. “I’ll make sure my story is perfect!” Hazel tapped he
r fingertips together as she formed a plan.
Po came racing around the corner of the Apothecary’s and barely missed crashing into Hazel. “You’re free!” He hugged Hazel without thinking—and without asking.
Her eyes flew open in shock and she squirmed self-consciously.
When he felt her twisting in his embrace, he released his hold, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “So you’re all better, eh?”
Hazel eagerly put the awkwardness behind them. “I felt better days ago, but Mistress Nokomis is a worry wart.”
“I guess you won’t be wanting this then,” Po held out his latest creation in the palm of his hand. Carved from a mango tree, light brown flecked with darker shades, it looked eerily similar to the knife-toothed monster lying dead somewhere in Dreamwood.
Hazel picked up the beast and looked at the round eyes, powerful legs, and the huge curved fangs. She didn’t recognize the creature, but that didn’t keep her stomach from doing flip-flops. “What in the world is this?”
“I shot one straight through the heart when we were lookin’ for you in the forest, eh? Pounamu kept the fangs and stuff.”
Hazel dropped the carving and her knees wobbled. She sensed in her gut that this thing had hunted her and bashed into her tree over and over in the impenetrable darkness of that forsaken wood.
Pounamu slipped a steadying arm around Hazel’s shoulders. “Take a deep breath, my darling. You are safe here. Those creatures are bound to the forest. They cannot hurt you now.”
Mistress Tamsin passed by on her way to the Meeting House, and she nodded to Pounamu, but said nothing.
“I’m sorry, Hazel. That was foolish. I’m sure you never want to see one of those again.” Po looked at Hazel with eyes that pleaded for forgiveness.
Hazel’s own eyes glazed over and her voice came out in a ragged whisper, “I’ve never seen one before. Something hunted me in the darkness. Growling. Snarling. Chilling my blood. I never saw its face, but in my heart I felt its hunger.”
Pounamu squeezed Hazel to her side. “The coven is gathering, we must join the meeting.” She turned to Po, “It is a remarkable carving, young master. Perhaps you can keep it safe for Hazel, and when she is ready to put those nights in the forest behind her, you will help her build a ritual fire. She can burn that stunning likeness with a little angelica root and white willow bark, and release the forest’s hold.”
“Yes, Pounamu,” he said. He snatched the carving from the ground and shoved it in his pocket. “Whenever you’re ready for that fire, you let me know. All right, Hazel?”
“All right, Po.” She turned to leave, but looked back over her shoulder. “Would you be able to get the rest of my carvings from the Healing Hut? I’m going straight home after this meeting and, Goddess bless her, but I hope I never see Mistress Nokomis again,” Hazel said.
“They’ll be waiting in your cottage,” answered Po, as he smirked mischievously.
Hazel smiled and let Pounamu pull her toward the Meeting House.
They walked up the steps and while Hazel removed her sandals Pounamu stared up at the carving of Tane Mahuta on the peak of the roof and softly chanted, “O, Tane, Ruler of the Forests, watch over my sister, Temarama. O, Tane, Atua of Dreamwood Forest, watch over her kauri tree.” She touched the thumb of her right fist to her forehead and blinked back a tear.
They entered and took a seat on the bench on the left side of the Meeting House. Hazel looked down the row of Masters and Mistresses of the Grand Coven seated at the thick rimu wood table. Her eyes widened when she saw Mistress Nokomis. No wonder Po had been so eager to retrieve the carvings; he knew the Mistress of Healing would be occupied with the gathering.
Hazel grinned when she thought of Po sneaking through the Healing Hut. Mistress Nokomis mistook the grin as meant for her and smiled widely at Hazel. Hazel flushed with embarrassment and watched Nokomis’ smile turn to a look of concern. She hurriedly looked away.
The High Priestess, Kahu, nodded to acknowledge their arrival, and stood to address the coven.
“Masters, Mistresses, and honored guests, today we must make our final decision regarding Flynn Hawthorn. We have long relied on the timeless wisdom of the witch of the wood, and she has joined us today to share her thoughts. We all know of her firsthand experience with the Shadow Coven of Southeil and the fate of her sister Temarama, the original ninth daughter. Mistress Pounamu, please step forward.” Kahu made a beckoning gesture and returned to her seat at the center of the polished wooden table.
Pounamu leaned heavily on her staff and made a lengthy production of walking to the spot in front of the coven.
Hazel kept all reaction from her face, despite the fact that she felt sure Pounamu only acted frail when it suited her.
“I am honored to address this powerful and just coven of esteemed witches.” Pounamu took a moment to look each member of the Grand Coven directly in the eyes.
Some held her swirling emerald gaze, and some, like Kahu, shook their head in warning. The mesmerizing gaze of the witch of the wood was a poorly kept secret and most of the witches of the Grand Coven could not be so easily manipulated.
“I can feel the threat of the Shadow Coven growing, and I know we all want to see The Book of Shadow and Light reunited. I believe Flynn Hawthorn is our last hope. If she fails, my brothers and sisters, there will be no future for the Light. The balance will be lost, the mist will fall, and darkness will swallow our land.”
Murmurs swept through the room. Mistress Thelema leaned forward to get the attention of the High Priestess, but Kahu did not look her way.
Hazel could see most of the coven nodding in agreement, but Mistress Tamsin pursed her thin lips and shook her head.
“I have seen the power of the shadow, first hand, and we all saw what the dark witch Magdelana accomplished through a mere hex bag. We cannot push Flynn to this task unprepared.” Pounamu stopped and leaned on her staff. She motioned to Hazel.
Hazel jumped up and brought Pounamu a cup of water, precisely as they had planned.
Pounamu gratefully took the cup, and after a long sip she handed it back to Hazel and put her arm around the girl. “Stay a moment, my darling.”
Hazel nodded and pretended to be embarrassed.
“Recently I had the misfortune to learn that this youngling had been lost in Atahu Forest. Flynn and your son,” she nodded to Paitangi, Mistress of Carving, “braved the true terrors of that enchanted wood to help me retrieve this precious child.” Pounamu stopped to give Hazel a quivering squeeze and she let a tear trickle down her ageless cheek. “This youngling risked her life to tell me the wonderful news of Flynn’s magick.”
Hazel nodded fervently. They had decided it would be best to leave out the part where Hazel hoped Pounamu could stop the coven from forcing Flynn into Priestess training.
“This would have been welcome news, indeed, after fourteen years of thinking the child of prophecy had been cursed to remain a Watcher. But as most of you know, she never made it to my cottage.” Pounamu paused and leaned toward Hazel. “Tell us what happened during your time in the wood, my darling.”
Hazel shared the terror of being hunted by unseen beasts, but she rushed through that part of the story. When she got to the bit where Flynn had come to her on the astral plane and promised to find her, she slowed down and recalled every detail. Her tears flowed freely, and unrehearsed.
Pounamu comforted her and pressed their advantage. “I’m sure all of you highly adept witches know that it is impossible to use magick within the boundaries of that forest.” She waited while the shock of understanding swept through the coven. “This youngling, this Flynn Hawthorn, is bound to a magick that none of us can completely understand. She must explore the various practices offered in the training levels and learn to wield every part of her vast power. If we push her into the Priestesshood before she is fully trained,” she paused dramatically, “we may lose our last chance to restore the balance and save Aotearoa.”
Mistre
ss Windemere flipped her cloud white hair behind her shoulder and rose instantly in support. Her crystal clear eyes burned with knowing fire.
“You may take your seat, Mistress Windemere,” Kahu spoke respectfully, but firmly. “I must tell all of you that the events of the past several days have taken me by surprise. Mistress Pounamu has shown me the wisdom of proper training for Flynn. I would ask that any witch who supports the plan to move Flynn through the levels and complete her training please take your wand and place it on the table pointing toward our honored guest.” Kahu took out her own slender willow wand and placed it on the table with the red agate tip toward Pounamu.
Windemere placed her alder and quartz wand in support of training.
Cabot turned the snowflake obsidian tip of his holly wand toward Pounamu.
Surprisingly Tamsin took out her kauri wood wand and turned the amethyst tip toward the witch of the wood.
Hazel wondered if Tamsin simply wanted more opportunities to punish Flynn, but she honestly didn’t care what it meant as long as she could remain in training—and come home.
Mistress Thelema coughed into a soft cloth, ignored protocol, and spoke without the High Priestess’ consent. “Before I make my decision I must know that the Grand Coven will receive regular reports of Flynn’s progress. If we are to change our path and choose another thread in the web, I feel we are all entitled to know the web of destiny is stronger for it.” As an afterthought she added, “My Priestess.”
Kahu took a deep breath and replied in a steady tone, in spite of the vein throbbing in her neck. “All initiates are subject to the promotion tests, Mistress Thelema. This initiate’s progress will be no more secret or public than the rest.”
Master Berea cautiously stood and waited for the High Priestess’ permission.
“Proceed, Master Berea,” said Kahu.