No Rest for The Wiccan

by Madelyn Alt

  Come to think of it, no wonder she liked them. Considering the events of the last eight months, maybe I should reread some of them myself. I could use a bit of reassurance that good would prevail.

  “Mel is waiting for you upstairs,” Mom was saying. “She’s been itching to see you all afternoon. I think the exile of her condition is getting to her. She’s been worrying constantly about noises, and she’s been just a bit overprotective of her things. This morning she yelled at Greg for moving a water bottle, because she knew she’d put it on the bedside table and when she turned to get it, it wasn’t there.”

  “Yes, well, too much solitude is never good for a person.” No way I was going to tell Mom what had happened and what we were planning to do about it. Some things are better left unsaid. “I’ll just go on up.”

  Mom nearly beamed at me. “You do that. Thank you, dear. You’ve been such a big help this week.”

  Was that approval I heard in her voice? Verifiable approval? Real, honest-to-goodness approval? Would wonders never cease.

  “Tell Dad and Grandpa G hello for me,” I said as I hurried her out the door, eager to get a move on with everything that was going to have to be done.

  Minnie had draped her body across my shoulder like some kind of small, furry parrot, which was surprisingly comfortable and actually quite handy as it left both of my hands free to do other things. Mom had already tidied the entire downstairs in the girls’ absence, and the kitchen was spotless. I scouted around, making sure all was in order before heading up the stairs to Mel.

  The intercom buzzed at me. “Maggie, is that you?” There was the slightest edge of nervousness to Mel’s voice.

  I walked over to the control panel and pushed the Talk button. “Yes, it’s me. I’m just finishing things up down here, and I was thinking about throwing a load of laundry in for you—”

  “No, don’t go down in the basement,” she said, urgency coming through loud and clear. “Just come upstairs. I’ve been having the most horrible feelings all day. Like hot flashes, but that’s not it at all. More like . . . like a panic attack. And can I just say, I have been stuck in my bedroom all day with this thing, whatever it is, breathing at me. Mom thinks I’ve gone crazy. At least you know the truth.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up a moment. Feelings, you said?”

  “Yes. Haven’t you been listening to me, Maggie? It’s not just my fear speaking. I’ve been stuck here with these god-awful feelings and with the breathing thing that is in my bedroom. Do you understand? Capisce? Savvy?”

  “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” Feelings. Mel had never had feelings before. I know that probably sounds odd, but it was true. She wasn’t the type. She had always been one of the most self-involved, self-absorbed people I knew, completely convinced that she was the undisputed center of her universe and that the rest of us were there to make her look good and feel good about herself. Feelings would have been in direct conflict with her goals of looking and feeling the best about herself that she could. Feelings about anything else would have made her vulnerable. Like all the rest of us.

  There was, of course, one exception to her no-feelings rule. Well, two. Three, if you counted the little one in her belly. When it came to her children, Mel was fierce.

  “Liss is ready to come over to do the house clearing,” I told her. At least I hoped she was. I knew she and Marcus were to have been discussing a plan. I just hoped their efforts had been fruitful.

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes. As long as that’s okay with you.”

  “Well . . . yeah. Of course, tonight would be great. I mean, well, I don’t think Greg is going to be back early. He never is lately. And the girls are out at a double dance class with Margo, so . . . yeah, I guess that’s okay.”

  She’s hesitating. The thought came to me out of the blue. But why the hesitation? This was what she had wanted. Maybe it was just cold feet. Uncertainty over the unknown. Yes, that was probably it. She’d seen the same horror movies I’d seen throughout our teenage years. They were good about spreading fear and uncertainty through an audience looking for a cheap thrill. Maybe she was afraid the situation would get out of hand. She didn’t know Liss like I did, and even I was a little nervous about watching the banishing of an unknown entity.

  “All right, then. I’ll give Liss a call and let her know that it’s okay to come on over. Don’t worry about a thing,” I told her. “We’ll take care of everything. And I’ll be up in a minute.”

  Keeping one hand on Minnie to prevent her from toppling when I bent over, I retrieved my cell phone from the bag I’d left in the kitchen and connected with Liss’s.

  “Hello, ducks,” came Liss’s warm voice over the airwaves. “Right on schedule. Is everything good to go?”

  “Good to go,” I confirmed, giving her a thumbs-up that she couldn’t see. “Er, is everything set on that end?”

  “Absolutely. We’ve gathered everything we think we’ll need to get the job done. Although . . . the spirit isn’t entirely human in my estimation, so the results are a bit . . . uncertain. We may need to do this more than once.”

  Not entirely human. Oy. I hoped Mel learned her lesson from this. No more dabbling!

  To Liss, I said, “Is there anything you’ll need me to do before you get here?”

  “Look out the window, ducks. We’ve just arrived.”

  “How . . .” I was about to ask the question that always popped into my head whenever her psychic sense kicked into high gear, as evidenced by her amazing ability to read my thoughts and act on them . . . and then I decided it was a moot point. Instead, I walked to the kitchen door, opened it, and waved at the black Lexus parked in the drive. “Never mind. Come on in.”

  Liss came first, with Marcus on her heels. He was carrying a medium-sized gift bag, promisingly chockablock, by the satin ribbon handles. A bit incongruous, as images go, but hey, I’d take him. Er, I mean, it.

  Liss gave my shoulder a reassuring pat as she passed by, taking an extra moment to scratch Minnie behind the ears. Marcus paused in the doorway and cast an amused glance down at me. “If the cat was a dead fox, you’d look just like my Great-Aunt Lucinda.”

  I reached up and hugged Minnie to me, covering her far ear with my hand. “Don’t listen to him, Minnie. He didn’t mean to compare you to a dead fox. It just slipped out.”

  I was relieved when he continued on into the kitchen. The doorway was just a little too small for the both of us to stand comfortably within.

  “Shall we go on up?” Liss asked.

  I nodded. “Mel’s waiting for us. The girls are out of the house for now, and Greg—her husband,” I explained to Marcus, “isn’t expected home anytime soon. But I’d still feel better if we hurried. Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Right-o, ducks. Coming, Marcus?”

  “Right behind you.”

  I led the way up the stairs. As it had that first night, the very air seemed to swell and grow thick the farther we climbed.

  “I feel it, too,” Marcus muttered behind me, demonstrating that he, too, was no slacker in the intuitive abilities department.

  “It knows we’re here,” said Liss.

  She might have been announcing the weather, for all the concern she injected into the words. I, on the other hand, could feel my nervousness ramping up. Deep breaths, Maggie, I told myself. You’re in good hands here. And so is Mel.

  Melanie was sitting up in bed, waiting for us. Her eyes were as big as I’d ever seen them. “It’s here, isn’t it?” she asked me as I came through the door. “It is. I can feel it.”

  I sat down on the bed beside her. As though she sensed a person in need, Minnie immediately leapt from my shoulders, down onto Mel’s lap. Settling herself into a compact shape with her feet tucked beneath her body, she began to purr. The sound was somehow reassuringly normal in the cold strangeness of the room.

  Mel looked down at the kitten, confusion puckering her brow. “What—”

  “Cats are a w
onderful protective presence,” I explained to her, echoing what Liss had told me. “This is Minnie.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Without further protest, she tucked her hands into Minnie’s soft fur. Minnie closed her eyes, but her ears were moving constantly, quirking and cocking in all directions as though tracking the movement of something that was in the room with us. I turned and looked, but I didn’t see anything. It didn’t matter. It was there.

  As though It had been waiting for us.

  Chapter 12

  Marcus walked into the room slowly, but with a calm sense of strength that emanated from his stance, the lift of his head, his very pores. Liss headed straight for the table in front of the window and began unloading the things from the gift bag Marcus had toted in.

  “It’s strongest here,” Marcus said quietly to Liss.

  She nodded. “Sage, for purification. Lavender, for protection. Candles, for the quarters. An elements infusion, for anointing the doors and windows. Salt to consecrate the space. Herbal packets, to tuck away as blessings. And patchouli incense.”

  I had been listening to her run down her laundry list of supplies, trying to make sense of them through all that I’d learned thus far. “Patchouli incense . . . for power?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Well, that . . . and because it smells lovely.” And she laughed. “Sometimes, the key to summoning the Light back into a place that darkness has chosen to invade can be quite simple. As simple as filling the room with pleasantries and our own energies. Things that make us happy and that are filled with good thoughts. With a bit of luck, that’s how it will be today.”

  That sounded a bit more basic than I was expecting, so it would be interesting to see what went down.

  The last thing she placed on the table was a glass that she had filled with water from the tap in Melanie’s bathroom.

  Mel had been eyeing Marcus up and down with open curiosity, so while Liss finished up, I played hostess with the mostess. “Mel, have you met Marcus? Marcus Quinn, this is my sister, Mel.”

  “Melanie Craven,” she clarified with a distant nod, folding her hands primly in her lap, overtop the purring kitten. She was playing her favorite queen bee role again, right down to the fussy bedjacket and prissy attitude. “I take it you’re one of the Ghostbusters, Mr. Quinn?”

  “At your service.”

  “Ah. Well, you definitely look the part.”

  I groaned, because Mel’s complete lack of tact had raised its ugly head yet again, and it was so uncalled-for . . . but Marcus just gave her a lazy smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Don’t mind my sister, Marcus,” I apologized, sending her a warning glare. “Pregnancy sometimes scrambles a woman’s brains.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of excusing myself, Maggie.”

  As we’d all noticed. Just another pregnancy pass moment, I reminded myself, gritting my teeth.

  Liss saved the moment, as usual. “Are we ready, then?”

  So soon? I felt a quiver pass through my body. Fear of the unknown is such a powerful thing.

  Marcus caught Liss’s eye. “What do you think. Sky-clad?”

  Naked? My breath caught in the back of my throat, and I choke-coughed. Holy sheep. I’d not yet witnessed a sky-clad ritual, but I’d heard of them. Not that the thought of Marcus in a clothing-challenged state hadn’t at least crossed my mind (or was that double-crossed? Hmm . . .), but I wasn’t certain that I was ready for it. At least, not with an audience.

  “Or not.” Marcus laughed. He hadn’t missed a thing. “Sorry, Maggie. Just a little witchy humor.”

  “Witchy?” Mel hadn’t missed a thing either. She looked at Liss and Marcus, and then back at me. “Wait. You . . . you don’t mean . . .”

  “Oh, didn’t Maggie tell you?” Liss asked, innocently enough.

  I cleared my throat before Mel could get on a roll. “Well, that’s not important right now. What’s important is getting to work to get rid of this thing that Mel invited into her home.”

  Miracle of all miracles, Mel closed her mouth. Apparently, she agreed with me.

  Marcus clapped his hands together. “Good, then let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Maggie, you sit there on the bed with Melanie. What I want you two to do is quite simple,” Liss told us. “You will be in your own protective circle, to ensure Mel’s safety. I want you to hold each other’s hands and focus all of your thoughts and intentions and energies into the positive. Whatever it takes, you do it. Imagine it pouring in from above, surrounding you, filling you. Feel it. And when I call for you to, I want you to consciously push it out and up from you, sending it to the skies and clear out into the universe. And then, my dears, I want you to listen for me to give you any further instruction. Does that make sense to you?”

  We both nodded, our eyes wide and solemn. Mel, I thought, was probably just too boggled to disagree, but I knew enough to be able to guide her through the motions if needed. “Do we need to turn off the lights?” I asked, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.

  Liss shook her head. “This is not a séance. What we want is to fill the room with as much light and lightness of being as we can. Right, then. Marcus?”

  He appeared beside her, the container of salt in his hand. At Liss’s command, he drew a circle around the bed, continuing it along the wall behind the headboard. Beside me I saw Mel’s mouth open in protest. I squeezed her hand fiercely and whispered, “I will vacuum!” She shut her mouth again.

  “All right, you two,” Liss said. “Begin to fill your circle with light. Just as I described.”

  When she was satisfied with the progression of our efforts, she took the salt from Marcus and set it down with everything else on her makeshift altar, then took his hands and looked deep into his eyes.

  “Together we do this, without fear, our hearts beating perfectly as one,” she intoned, her voice quiet but clear.

  “Together we do this,” came Marcus’s strong reply, “our strength in our binding of ourselves to one another. In Magick and in Light, we are two halves of a perfect whole.”

  As I watched, he leaned forward then and kissed Liss lightly but lingeringly on her soft mouth. And a pang of emotion struck me, against my will. My breath caught in my throat again for the second time in ten minutes. Thank goodness no one heard me.

  I couldn’t look away. Next to me, Mel stirred, and I felt a sudden jolt of her fear. Her hands gripped mine tighter. I scarcely registered it, even as her wedding rings bit into me, because by then I had realized that cold, cold air was pouring into the room—the Otherkind was gaining strength again. Circling us all, testing us, as though It had decided that whatever Liss and Marcus planned to do might be apart from Its liking.

  Circling us as though considering Its next move.

  I redoubled my efforts, projecting with every ounce of my being. Liss and Marcus were completely involved with their actions as they calmly and without urgency continued with the ritual.

  Marcus took the salt and, using the window as a starting point, drew a large, room-sized circle on the floor, falling just shy of the bed. “Widdershins we cast our circle round,” Marcus intoned as he went around the room in the counterclockwise direction of banishings, “as we mark the boundaries of this space between the world of spirit and the world of the living. Lady of the Silver Moon, Goddess of Ten Thousand Names, protect us within this circle. Keep safe all who gather here in your name, and in the name of the God, your consort and partner in life, in death, in Light, and Shadow, in chaos, and in balance. In your name we ask for shelter within the bower of your embrace.”

  Liss placed the white candles at equal quarter-points around their circle. She touched them with a match, each in turn, and continued the chant. “By the earth that is Her body, by the air that is Her breath, by the fire of Her bright spirit, and by the living waters of Her womb, our circle is cast. None shall come to harm here, by any forces, on any level.”

  The flames leaped high, higher than was
normal, twisting and darting about with the energies testing the circle.

  Liss and Marcus turned toward each other and locked gazes as they finalized the circle. “As we will it, so shall it be done. As we will it, so mote it be.”

  The air in the room had grown heavier still. My skin was tingling, every hair on my arms and the back of my neck standing at attention.

  They were holding hands again, facing each other. Marcus closed his eyes, but Liss’s gaze never wavered from his face. His head fell back on his shoulders, his shining dark hair reaching to just between his shoulder blades. His breathing slowed, his chest rising and falling deeply with each effort. I watched them both, fascinated, and more than a little scared. What was he doing? He looked as though he was reaching out, searching . . .

  “We were wrong . . .” he said at last, each word coming with difficulty. “It is . . . was . . . human. At some point in time. He was strong. Tyrannical. He . . . killed many. Many warriors. He was a soldier. No regrets. It was his job to do so. And yet . . . what the priests tell us . . . what will be waiting? He has never crossed over. ’Tis better to stay here in the shadows, aye, ’tis.”

  Was I the only one who noticed the difference in his speech? That definitely wasn’t normal for Marcus. His face, too, looked slightly different. Harder. More angular through the cheekbone. As I watched, he turned and gazed at me through eyes that weren’t quite his own, and yet weren’t quite not. Tears burned suddenly at the back of my eyes, but I closed my throat against them, cutting them off from the fear that would make them flow.

  Strength and light. That was what he needed from me. That was what I would give him. I closed my eyes so that I couldn’t see him, and I focused my attention inward to that spark of self that dwelled deep within me. With my mind’s eye I stared at it, and as I stared, it began to expand. Just a little bit at first, but it was enough to encourage me. I breathed deeply, letting my lungs fill with the breath of life, and it made the spark flare even taller, the light stronger, more confident. And as it grew, I felt my spine grow stronger, my shoulders square. I let the light build within me until it felt as though it burst free of me, expanding ever outward, brilliant and white.