Enchant Me

by Anne Violet

  Sometimes even having two alarm clocks isn’t enough. Luckily I had a kitten that liked to be fed on a regular basis and wasn’t above playing dirty if I ignored him. Glancing over at my two clocks still going off like they were about to burst, I confirmed my worst fear. If I wanted to make it in time for registration, safety checks, and practice I would have to leave within minutes with not a speck of makeup or hair done.

  Lifting Cody and his sharp little claws off me, I stumbled over to his food bowl, and poured his food --not all of it making it in the bowl. Thankfully he still had water. I threw on the required leather jump suit, grabbed an eyeliner, mascara and lip balm as I headed out the door. Hopefully I would get a chance at some point to put them on. As much as I enjoyed my motorcycle buddies, time seemed to drag until the track would open for spectators and Christian and all my friends would be here.

  Finally, I could see his dark head amidst my friends. As they picked out their seats I glanced at Michelle who gave me the thumbs up. Things must be going well for Jim and Tina. I kept looking until I found them. Their heads were bent towards each other and as I watched, Jim bent down to apparently whisper in her ear, and they both had the same idiotic grin I always had around Christian. It looked like mission accomplished. I ran over to everyone to say hi and get my good luck kiss from Christian before the race. As he caught sight of me he ran up to greet me, lifting me up in his arms and plastering one hell of a kiss on me. When he set me back down he looked me over like I had dressed this way specifically for him. But there was worry in his gaze too.

  “What?” I finally asked unable to take the suspense.

  “I’m worried about you. How many times have you done this before?” he grumbled, his hands pushing my hair back over my shoulders.

  “Lots. Don’t worry-- all of us take every precaution possible.”

  He smelled so good and looked so insanely gorgeous that I did my best to ignore the heat in his eyes as my friends ran up to join us.

  Tina ran up first and gave me a hug, her eyes lit up like it was Christmas day. “This is so great, Michelle’s even going to do a story for the school paper.”

  My eyes widened at this, I didn’t think I needed any more notoriety, but once Michelle got an idea in her head she was hard to stop. As I looked over at Jim he gave a slight nod in greeting but he was completely absorbed with Tina, practically stepping on her in his efforts to be as close as possible and block any attempts from any other guys making eyes at her. Maybe I should give up photography and go into match-making full time. Time was running out so I waved at everyone else, gave a last quick kiss to Christian and reluctantly posed for a picture for the school paper, making a mental note to have a few words with Michelle about what the definition of keeping a low profile means.

  Once at the start point, I pushed all thoughts out of my mind except the race. I wasn’t generally competitive but it would be nice to win one race, especially when I actually had supporters in the stands. At the starting light I got a good jump off the line that for a short-lived moment had me on the heels of the leader Chris Wynn, but I was soon pinched off by riders on both sides, forcing me to fall to the back of the group. As I pushed into the first lap I started strategizing, passing the rider just in front of me when the rear of my cycle started to come around. Through sheer force of will I got control of the slide and recovered, but I had missed my chance to pass. I forced myself not to dwell on the mistake and stepped up my speed; I was going to have to get really aggressive. I started searching for holes to navigate through, but there didn’t seem to be any. It was pretty congested even in the turns.

  Trying to pick up speed before the next turn came up, I felt my head start to throb and dizziness threaten. Oh god no, not now! I didn’t even have the time or the chance to fight it. Before I knew it an image forced itself into my mind and exploded in front of my eyes. I saw Chris Wynn’s cycle come out right from under him in the turn. As he and his bike tumbled across the pavement the other riders that had been close started slamming into both of them. I jerked my head away in horror but even as the vision faded away, I could see Chris begin to take the turn. Already I could see the wobbling start, it was too late…The nightmarish vision was happening.

  With only a split second to consider, I forced my bike to spin out in a low side crash; applying both brakes I let my bike skid out from me and we slid across the pavement. I took a quick glance back to make sure the one guy behind me missed me, which he did, narrowly missing my head. Seeing the pileup just in time he pulled to a rocky stop just ahead of me. When I finally came to a halt I rolled over to my hands and knees and tried to see what had happened to Chris Wynn and the others, but all I could see was flames, motorcycle parts, and riders sprawled out across the road.

  Even as I watched, the emergency workers were running out onto the field along with half the bleachers, it seemed. I desperately wanted to help and make sure everyone was ok, but I knew I would just be in the way. Before the reality of what had happened really hit me, I was surrounded by my friends. Christian kneeled down next to me and removed my helmet.

  He stared deep into my eyes probably seeing that they were as clear-headed as they ever were. “Are you ok?”

  I nodded my head, but what disturbed me was the wary look in his eyes again. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me to standing, and after a brief bear hug, he released me and stepped back, letting my friends take the job of fussing over me. Most everyone had assumed I had made a lucky mistake that had saved my life, but I noticed Christian wasn’t saying or doing anything. He was actually slowly distancing himself from all of us, standing on the very outskirts of our circle. Confusion and despair swamped me.

  I didn’t understand why he would react this way--then it occurred to me. Out of all my friends he was the only one that rode motorcycles, the only one that would have realized that my lucky accident hadn’t been an accident at all. At least most of the other spectators would have been watching the front runners, not the back of the pack. But Christian…surely wouldn’t guess the truth. Glancing at him one last time, I noted the sad, resigned expression on his face, watched hopelessly as he turned away from me. All the sudden I felt all my emotions crash down on me.

  It was all too much, the horrific crash that must have injured a lot of my friends, Christian avoiding me, the truth of what my grandmother had been trying to tell me, the feeling of hopelessness that I had for being unable to save anyone but myself. Surely my gift would be more useful than that. I absolutely refused to break down in front of everyone, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it together for much longer. With one potent look at Tina, she dispersed everyone around us. Then she asked Jim to load my motorcycle into his truck, he could drop it off at her house later, and then she led me to her car.

  As we walked she kept looking back at the pile up of riders and cycles and I could tell the aspiring doctor in her desperately wanted to help the injured riders, but being the amazing friend she was—her first loyalty was to me. I knew she had already noticed Christian’s aloofness and had picked up on the fact I didn’t anticipate him taking me home. I got right into her car and shut the door, not risking a single glance at him. I didn’t want him to see how badly he was hurting me. I could hear him talking to Tina as she got into the car.

  “Can you call me and let me know how she is doing?” he queried softly.

  “No, call her yourself,” she replied coolly as she slammed the door on him.

  “Thanks… for everything,” I whispered and then broke down into sobs as we pulled out of the lot.

  She wanted to pull over to give me a hug and help me calm down but I just wanted to get away from the race track. Like a homing pigeon, my only drive and need was to get back to Steilacoom. Since I didn’t want to go home and deal with my mom’s questions and subsequent drama, we drove straight to her house and closeted ourselves in her room as soon as we got there. As much as I loved her mom Tracy, I was glad she wasn’t there. I didn’t need any other w
itnesses to my meltdown.

  While I didn’t feel ready to talk about my gifts yet, I could certainly tell her everything else. When I had finally calmed down and regained control I could tell by the look in Tina’s eyes that she knew something wasn’t right.

  “Spill,” she demanded and so I did.

  CHAPTER 7

  Walking up the pathway to my Grandma Anne’s house, I looked up at the sky and watched how the angry grey clouds seemed to march across it, the trees up on the hill and in her yard were swaying sharply back and forth from the strength of the wind, and the smell of rain was in the air. It reflected my mood perfectly. After knocking on her door, I waited impatiently to be let in. Seeming to sense the state I was in, she said nothing as we headed to her morning room in the back of the house. After I sat down she handed me a hot cup of raspberry tea while she sat down with her morning coffee and for a time we were quiet, taking turns staring out the window. Then finally she spoke.

  “How is your familiar?”

  I could hear the hint of a smile in her voice and I finally turned to face her. I knew she had brought up Cody first as an easy ice-breaker compared to what she suspected was coming, and it worked. I loved Cody like crazy.

  “He’s perfect of course. He seems very intuitive to my needs and moods. I feel like I can see the devotion and love in his eyes. He’s the best gift I ever got, thank you.”

  She smiled at me but I could see the concern behind it. “I was glad to get him for you,” she said, turning her coffee cup around and around in her hands. “I take it something has happened,” she mused.

  I took a sip of my tea and nodded. “Do you remember that day you called and asked me to come over?” “Yes.”

  “That was the first time it happened,” I sighed. “This headache just came on from nowhere. I even got a little dizzy for a moment and then I found myself opening the phone and knowing it was you before it had barely rung.”

  “But that isn’t why you are here. Something else has happened,” she prodded.

  I nodded again. “I have had mainly two visions since then. I have been dating this guy Christian; his parents died a couple of years ago. I’m telling you that cause I think it is relevant to the vision but I don’t know how. I seem to be having repeating visions of him in a forest in pain and I can hear his parents arguing nearby but I can’t see them. I have no idea what the vision is supposed to mean or how I am supposed to help. When I have tried to talk to him about how they died, he shuts me down. I don’t know what to do,” I finished, the frustration ringing in my voice.

  She reached over and patted my hand. “I can’t claim to be an expert at this, but if he is unable to talk about it maybe it’s because he hasn’t dealt with it yet.”

  “It feels like there is something more to it but I don’t know what.”

  She seemed to mull that over for a moment before she moved on. “What was the other vision?”

  I looked at her warily, “You have got to promise not to tell my mom or dad.”

  I certainly didn’t need my parents to forbid my racing because of the accident, or worse try to get me to sell my bike altogether. She wasn’t pleased but she finally nodded her head in agreement. “I raced yesterday at the track in Kent. It happened as we were going into our second lap. I got a vision of one of the riders ahead of me losing control of his bike in a turn, and since everyone was riding so tightly together there was no way for them to avoid crashing into him. It was horrible.”

  I felt the tears start to well up as I remembered. I got up to re-heat my tea, giving myself a second to pull it together. She didn’t get up to hug me knowing how I hated to feel weak. I started to pace the room to distract myself.

  “When I came out of the vision, I could already see Chris’s bike starting to get out of control. I only had a second to force a low crash of my own bike to avoid hitting them. I couldn’t save them! What good is this gift if I can save no one but myself?”

  She looked at me almost harshly. “You can’t look at it like that. If you had been meant to save them you would have seen it a lot sooner with enough time to do something-”

  ‘That’s my point,” I interrupted her. “None of my visions have done anyone else some good.”

  She gave me a firm glance to not go into a complete meltdown, and then let her eyes cut away to my chair hinting for me to sit down. I sat but not happily.

  “How are the other riders?” she asked.

  “I don’t know…I am going to call around tonight and find out. I’m sure Chris is pretty injured though.” I didn’t know him well but he seemed nice enough and up to that moment had been an amazing competitor.

  “Well try not to borrow trouble.”

  I’m sure my face looked confused at that weird phrase.

  “Meaning, don’t worry until you know for sure that there is something to worry about. I take it you are starting to have visions more often?”

  “Yes, well I guess I would be if I didn’t fight it sometimes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sometimes I tense up and--I don’t know how to describe it other than I fight it. Up till recently I thought I was just trying to resist a normal headache coming on.”

  “How does it feel when you fight it?’

  I knew where she was going with this but I wasn’t going to lie about it. “It usually makes the headache worse and I start to feel sick.”

  “So are you going to fight it anymore?”

  “No,” I said taking the hint, “probably not. Do you know of anyone else with this power in the grove here or in Ireland?”

  “Not your particular gift-- no but there are others that have gifts as powerful as yours will be. It has been sometime since a new Druid has awoken with such a power.”

  I felt uncomfortable with that title-- Druid. I hadn’t been involved with the grove for awhile since I was still trying to figure out where it fit for me. Then my mind picked up on what she had said. How powerful my powers will be?

  “You mean it’s going to get worse?” She looked so concerned I started to freak out inside my mind. What else was going to happen?

  “It won’t be complete until you get past the crisis point, where everything comes to a head. For everyone it is different. For those of us that have very limited abilities the crisis point is small. My small gift of growing, creating herbal medicines, and healing is subtle to non existent, as are the powers of the rest of the people in our grove here. I only had symptoms of hay fever that at the crisis point felt like the flu and then it was done. But for some of our grove in Ireland that have real, true, strong gifts…the crisis point can be extremely difficult.”

  “So the crisis point for me is quite literal?” I demanded.

  “I’m hoping not.”

  Feeling a little shaky, I watched her watching me. I did not want this gift. Wasn’t I different enough without this on top of everything? As much as I felt her concern I also felt her determination to make me accept my new fate. Not just accept but embrace.

  “Wait a minute,” I said excitedly. “Did you say you could heal?” I asked thinking of Chris.

  She shook her head sadly already knowing what I was thinking. “Scrapes, bruises, nothing more. That’s why I wasn’t able to save your…grandfather.”

  I patted her hand not knowing what to say. Grandpa Rory had died of a heart attack when I was just a baby. I didn’t remember him but I knew Grandma Ann had mourned him a long time. She never liked to talk about it though.

  Pulling her hand from beneath mine she rubbed her fingers together than placed her hand over a bruise on my wrist from the accident. I felt warmth and a tingle in the area and then she lifted her hand. The bruise was gone. I stared at it in stunned silence for awhile. Taking a couple deep breaths, I looked her straight in the eye. How could I not believe now? “How bad is it going to be for me, is there anything I can do to prepare?”

  “For the most part no. If only…”

  “What?” I demanded.
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br />   “I have heard stories about Celtic shaman, “she sighed and shrugged her shoulders, then continued. “Supposedly there were some that had the ability to ease new Druids into their powers. They would also train them in their first couple weeks so they would not be dangerous to themselves or others. But no one knows if any of them still exist and even if they did…they were considered other.” She waved her hand in the air at this like they were something ephemeral that could not be described. “Not good or evil, their alliances were always changing, untrustworthy. Even so, I am not sure we could find one in time but I will put in a call to our family in Ireland.” She reached out and put her cool hand back over mine, “Lex, when the symptoms come on stronger, harder than before, I want you to come straight here.”

  Even though I didn’t have a problem with that I still wanted to know why. “How come? What difference does it make where I am? Is there something the grove can do to help me?”

  For the first time, she avoided looking at me. Staring at her now cold coffee, she seemed entranced with its murky depths. This just kept getting better and better.

  “Yes and no. We can’t help you through the crisis but we can protect you during the process.”

  I launched up out of my chair and started pacing. “Should I even ask what you are protecting me from?” I demanded.

  “In some ways during the transition into your power you are more powerful at that moment than at any other time because it is all coming at once. That kind of power can attract all sorts of things. That is why we will place you in a ring of protection until it is done.”

  I tried to get a grip on my non-existent temper as I whirled to a stop in front of her, pinning her with my eyes. “Grandmother, stop giving me half the story, what things am I supposed to be worried about?”