by Rue
She saw the spider spinning the web. One thread glistened.
She followed that thread…
Magdelana Katipo stood over The Book of Shadow, her stark white hair caught up in a glistening ruby cage. She strained her eyes and furrowed her deeply creased brow as her gnarled fingers traced down the page.
Flynn moved closer to see which spell Magdelana read.
At first the spell made no sense. Why would someone want to get rid of clouds? Flynn read on to discover that witches could use the karakia at sea, to clear away fog and allow a ship to find safe passage. She couldn’t understand why Magdelana would care about such a thing when no ships had traded with Aotearoa for hundreds of years, since the mist—
The mist!
Flynn leaned closer to the book to read the rest of the spell.
Magdelana felt an icy stab in her shoulder. “Who goes there?” She spun around.
Flynn saw the fire spark in Magdelana’s eyes and she flashed back to that moment in the House of Magickal Items with Barrington’s Blade headed straight for her neck.
She had to get away before Magdelana touched her again.
“What trickery is this?” Magdelana pulled out her wand and began to chant a karakia under her breath.
Flynn’s eyes widened in fear. She thought of her mother and the Meeting House.
“Flynn? Flynn?” Kahu gripped her daughter’s hand. “What did you see?”
Oturu stood firmly on Flynn’s shoulder and she took comfort in the bird’s nearness.
“Magdelana had The Book of Shadow in—”
Kahu’s hand clamped over Flynn’s mouth. “After the show of distrust in this coven today, I do not think I wish for you to share that information, daughter. What else?”
“Magdelana seeks a spell to destroy the mist,” Flynn did not give any details. She sensed her mother’s anger over the division in the coven. “I leaned too close as I read the spell and she sensed my presence. She turned and I came back to my body as she pulled her wand.”
Aubrielle cautiously approached the High Priestess. “Kahu, this display proves nothing. No one can read this scroll and no one can confirm this story.”
Flynn spun toward the Priestess remembering Hazel’s words about finding something, and clutched Aubrielle’s huge blue sapphire amulet with her right hand.
Aubrielle leaned back but she did not want to damage her jewelry and she couldn’t dislodge Flynn’s grasp.
Flynn’s eyes closed. “Nine generations ago, your grandmother, Atrise, held a place in the Grand Coven. She stole the homing stone that allowed Makutu to bring the Shadow Coven of Southeil to Aotearoa. You wear her pendant.”
Anise rose from the bench, pulled an obsidian athamé and lunged toward Flynn.
The knife exploded in her hand. Cabot returned his wand to the folds of his cloak as the Arei moved toward Anise to subdue any further outbursts.
Master Sorrel rose and nodded at Kahu. His paper-thin voice drifted through the silence, “I am old enough to remember this rumor.”
Kahu slipped her wand from her cloak. “Priestess Aubrielle, is this true?”
Aubrielle fell to her knees.
The gold chain holding the pendant snapped.
Aubrielle sobbed.
“Mother, no!” Anise rushed to her mother’s side. Hate sparked in her lavender eyes when she looked at Flynn. She ripped the pendant from Flynn’s hand and knelt down beside her mother.
“Cabot, take her wand and put her in the bracelets.” Kahu held her own wand firmly aimed at Aubrielle. She could see that all members of the Grand Coven had followed her lead. It couldn’t repair the damage Aubrielle had done, but they were united—the beginning of the healing.
As Cabot rounded the end of the long wooden table Mistress Thelema dropped her wand and fell forward, coughing fitfully. He quickly surveyed the room and saw the lips of the Aura Falls witch moving almost imperceptibly. “Shield and hold,” he called to the Arei, pointing to Mistress Thelema.
Aubrielle chose to spend the last few moments of her magick on punishing her co-conspirator. Thelema’s fat fingers had pulled the strings behind the attempted overthrow of the High Priestess, yet she had not come to Aubrielle’s aid when the tables had turned, and for that the witch of Aura Falls exacted her vengeance.
The members of the coven continued to aim their wands steadily, but several looked to the fallen Mistress of the Firmament.
Cabot rushed toward Aubrielle and called out instructions. “Nokomis, tend to Thelema. Sorrel, aid the Arei. Paitangi, Rehia, Windemere, protect the heir.” Formalities ceased in the face of danger, his primary function was clear.
“Tua pa,” He held his wand steady and spoke the karakia to ward off any protective spell Aubrielle may have cast over her wand. Cabot slipped his hand into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a thin ash wand with a silver tip, and passed it to Kahu. He pushed the intricately carved iron bracelets around Aubrielle Aura’s wrists and locked each one with a tap of his wand.
Flynn watched the metal flow like liquid and seal together, creating an impenetrable cuff around the former Priestess’ wrists—no beginning, no end.
The carving on the bracelets told the story of Tane separating Sky Father and Earth Mother, but the spell woven into the etching kept a witch from touching her magick. A witch in the bracelets could not cast a spell, wield a magical tool, or imbue another object with magick.
They were generally used to keep young, untrained and unruly witches from hurting themselves or others. For a witch of Aubrielle’s age, the bracelets could be a death sentence. After decades of feeling the connection to the Goddess, being completely cut off from that source of power could cause a witch to go insane or to simply wither and die.
Kahu looked from the fallen Thelema to the woman who took the life. “You have disgraced the wand, Aubrielle Aura, former Priestess of Aura Falls. You shall never touch the magick again, in this life. May the Goddess give rest to your soul.”
Aubrielle made no explanation and no apology. “Spare my daughter, my Priestess.”
“I am no longer your Priestess.” Kahu motioned to Windemere and Rehia, “Place a block on the daughter.”
They moved toward Anise and cast a spell of temporary restraint, which served to block Anise from her magick for several days—a mercy, compared to the bracelets.
“Cabot, remove them from this sacred place and see that they leave for Aura Falls at first light.” She turned her attention to Thelema and made an announcement, “I fear the Mistress of the Firmament has passed beyond the veil. Master Sorrel, when Mistress Nokomis has removed the body I will need you to cleanse and consecrate this Meeting House.”
“So it will be, my Priestess.” Master Sorrel nodded gravely.
Hazel and Po arrived at the Meeting House as the Masters and Mistresses dispersed.
Tamsin hurried past toward the Apothecary’s, she did not seem ready to accept Thelema’s passing.
Cabot led Aubrielle Aura toward one of the outbuildings behind the Meeting House. His Arei forced Anise along in their wake.
Aubrielle looked at the ground and the muscles of her jaw clenched in rhythm with her angry fists.
Po and Hazel stared.
Anise glowered at them both. The warning in her eyes dared them to speak.
They did not.
Once the small procession had passed, Hazel turned to Po, “Stay here with the trunk, I’ll get Flynn.” She ran up the steps and peered through the door.
Nokomis and Adriana were hunched over Thelema. “Tere,” Nokomis spoke and floated the enormous woman up and onto the thick wooden meeting table.
Hazel could see the blue pallor of Thelema’s skin and the thin trickle of blood dribbling down the fold of her jowls.
Kahu, Rehia, Paitangi, and Windemere had their heads close together and were deep in discussion.
Hazel pointed at the tip of Flynn’s braid and whispered, “Angi.”
The braid slowly swirled and Flynn g
rabbed it and looked around in panic. She saw Hazel peeking around the edge of the doorframe and relief flooded over her face. She glanced at her mother and quietly edged toward the door.
“Kerematua,” Kahu spoke in a low commanding tone.
Flynn instantly froze in place.
“Come in, Hazel,” called Kahu.
Hazel’s throat went dry, but she slipped off her sandals and entered the room.
The High Priestess excused herself from the small discussion and strode across the wooden floorboards, without a sound. “I have been quite busy today, youngling, but your actions did not escape my notice.” Kahu touched Flynn and released her from the spell’s hold.
“I went to help Flynn, my Priestessness,” Hazel fumbled with the title.
“What would you do without this girl, Flynn?” asked Kahu.
“Most likely I’d be dead, mother. I’m sure you remember how Magdelana almost chopped off my head with Barrington’s Blade last spring.” Flynn meant the comment as praise to Hazel, but it came out more sarcastic than intended.
“Do not test me today, daughter. I have had more than my fill of disrespect for my rank and the sacred tapu of my Meeting House.” Kahu tilted her head toward Hazel, “I have repaid my debt to you, witchling, by convincing the Grand Coven to leave Flynn in the levels, with you. Tonight I must have my daughter’s undivided attention. We have much to discuss.”
“Yes, Priestess,” said Hazel, nodding. She glanced over Kahu’s shoulder at Thelema, but Flynn firmly shook her head in warning. Hazel nodded a few more times and added, “We’ll drop off the trunk at your cottage and I’ll stop by in the morning to see Flynn, if that’s all right?”
“What trunk?” Kahu looked back and forth from Hazel to Flynn.
“It’s quite a long story, mother. I think I’d like to go home, have a bath, and tell you over a cup of peppermint tea.” Flynn pulled at her torn tunic and gestured to her filthy feet.
“Goddess protect us, you two are full of mystery.” Kahu put an arm around each girl and led them out of the Meeting House.
Explore the map of Southeil
Kahu sent word to Pounamu after hearing the tale of Flynn’s Seeking and examining the contents of the trunk. She wanted a private meeting with her closest advisors before she decided how to best use Flynn’s newfound skills.
Hazel arrived with the sun and Kahu politely but firmly turned her away. “I’m sorry, youngling, but there are serious matters affecting the future of Aotearoa that must be attended to before Flynn can entertain guests.”
“But I won’t interfere, I promise. I’ll—”
“You will come back tomorrow, Hazel Ivy Tetekura, or I will find a reason to put you back in Nokomis’ capable hands,” intoned Kahu.
Hazel’s pupils dilated and she took a step backward. “Yes, Priestess.” She turned and ran to the Carving Hut to find Po and make some kind of plan to get a message to Flynn.
Kahu returned to the kitchen table and stared at the diminished, yet still ornate, wax seal on the letter from the recovered trunk.
“Are you ever going to open it?” asked Flynn as she wandered out from her room.
“What could be gained?” replied Kahu.
Flynn sat down next to her mother and leaned toward the letter, “Don’t you even want to know his name?” Kahu did not respond, so she continued. “What if he declares his undying love for you or promises to return one day?”
Kahu lightly fingered the strange paper. The people of Aotearoa lived in a world of oral traditions and legends passed down from one generation to the next. The only paper Kahu had ever touched was the pages of The Book of Light. She looked up at Flynn and spoke softly, “What if it’s not about me? What if the most magickal night of my life meant absolutely nothing to this strange seafaring man? I think I’d rather live with my memories than with that pain.”
Flynn wrapped her arms around her mother and squeezed with all her might. “Mama, you’re forgetting, I saw him writing the letter. His eyes were bright, a soft smile rested on his lips, and he wrote with passion and purpose. Please, Mama, open it.”
The High Priestess of Aotearoa slipped her belt knife from its sheath. Her hand shook as she carefully slid it under the aged wax seal and separated it from the sheet. Anticipation hung in the air like the moment between a flash of lightning and the clap of thunder. Slowly, hesitantly she unfolded the letter. “I can’t read it, sweet child, it’s like the map.”
Flynn leaned in to translate for her mother. She stretched her neck and strained her eyes. “I can’t read it either, Mama. It’s not like the map, the markings are different—the shapes don’t make sense to me.”
Kahu exhaled shakily and wrung her hands together. “I should’ve let it be. This is worse than not knowing.”
“I’ll keep trying. I can figure it out, I’m sure of it.” Flynn turned the letter and scanned up and down the markings. At the very bottom of the paper she recognized something, “Look! Look at this. I can read these; they are like the map. It says—” Flynn’s voice caught in her throat and tears spilled from the corners of her eyes.
Kahu put her hand on her daughter’s, “What is it? What does it say?”
“It must be his name, ‘Flynn Cook, Captain – The Golden Hind’.”
“Dunedin!” Kahu’s hand flew up to cover her mouth as she choked back a sob. “As I left the Cliffs of Tapu he said, ‘You will name her Flynn.’ He knew.”
Flynn dropped into the chair and smiled at her mother. “My father’s name is Flynn. That’s enough for me, Mama.”
Kahu hugged her daughter and handed her the letter. “Let’s keep this in your trunk. Maybe someday you will find a way to read it—maybe not. But you’re right, it’s enough, my little Flynn.”
She returned the letter to her trunk, thanked Dunedin, again, for his gift and prepared for the arrival of the witch of the wood.
Pounamu arrived in Moa Bend by mid-morning. The heat of summer had drifted away and a damp pre-autumn chill hung in the air.
Flynn had been waiting on the front steps of her cottage and ran down the path when she heard the footfalls and the steady tap of the staff.
“You completed your Seeking, I see,” said Pounamu as she pulled Flynn into a tight embrace.
“Why didn’t you contact me in the astral plane or send me word? I worried about Hazel—”
“But I did send word, my darling. I had a long chat with a lovely blue butterfly who promised to deliver my message.” Pounamu stepped back and fixed Flynn with a confused stare. “Did my messenger fail to find you?”
Flynn’s shoulders sank and she glanced down at the ground. “No, Auntie, your messenger found me, but it didn’t get a chance to deliver your message.” She explained the spider’s web, the rescue, and the bellbird.
Pounamu leaned on her staff and a small chuckle turned into a deep belly laugh. “Oh, my darling, between the web of destiny and the whims of Dunedin, it is a wonder that poor creature even caught a glimpse of you.”
“I tried to reach out to you, but I couldn’t—something blocked my efforts,” said Flynn.
“Something indeed! Dunedin himself kept you isolated from all of us. He must have had an important message for you.” Pounamu’s face grew serious and she waited silently for Flynn’s response.
“Come into the cabin, Auntie. Mother doesn’t want me discussing it out here.” Flynn leaned close to Pounamu and whispered, “I found an old trunk in the Cliffs of Tapu—and my father’s name is ‘Flynn’. What do you think about that?”
“Intriguing,” whispered Pounamu as she followed Flynn into the cottage. “And where is Hazel,” she added.
“She’s helping her mother clean their cabin and wash all the bed clothes.” Flynn shrugged, “It’s mostly because of me, but Vida, Hazel’s mother, wouldn’t allow anyone to help her, so we’re kind of separated for the day.”
“She is a true friend, my darling. Those are as rare as kauri trees in Dreamwood Forest.” Pounamu wal
ked up the steps and into Flynn’s home. “Good morning, High Priestess. What news?”
“Thank you for coming, Pounamu. I’ll fill you in later, on the treachery of the former Priestess of Aura Falls and the suspicious death of Mistress Thelema. But now, Flynn must tell you of her Seeking and we’ll need to make a decision. I’ve asked Windemere to join us.” Kahu placed a thick green cushion on one of the chairs and motioned for Pounamu to take that seat.
“This is my father’s trunk,” Flynn gestured to the weathered wooden box on the kitchen table. “Dunedin led me to it through some kind of astral travel to the past. There are maps, that only I can read, and one of them is a map of Southeil.”
Pounamu tilted her head and her emerald green eyes twinkled with what appeared to be admiration.
“She touched the map and went there. She saw Magdelana—and The Book of Shadow.” Kahu couldn’t keep the pride from her voice.
Pounamu smiled and nodded. “He gave you a powerful gift, indeed.”
“My father or Dunedin?” asked Flynn.
“Yes,” replied Pounamu.
A soft knock prevented Flynn from asking any additional questions.
Kahu rose and went to the door. “Windemere, thank you for making the journey.”
“Of course, my Priestess,” replied the Mistress of the Ether.
Kahu sat down at the stout wooden table and placed her hand protectively on Flynn’s. “I have asked Flynn to make another trip to Southeil, on the astral plane, and I wanted to seek advice for her safety.”
“What you propose is dangerous for an experienced witch, Kahu,” cautioned Pounamu.
The High Priestess nodded and looked to Windemere.
The snow-haired witch touched her throat thoughtfully before she spoke. “I think there is a way.” She fixed her gaze on Flynn.
Flynn felt like the crystal clear eyes could bore through her skin and see her every secret. She forced herself to meet the Mistress’ stare.
“You won’t be safe. You must stay out of sight. Most folks would never feel a visit from the astral plane, but Magdelana will be wary. She may have placed wards against such spying since your last attempt.” Windemere’s eyes shifted up toward the ceiling and her current speech was given to everyone and no one.