Witch's Mystic Woods

by Marsha A. Moore

  “The elandine may still be useful then. Energy is volatile on this Solstice night.” He rose and motioned her toward the door.

  Her eyes widened and before he prompted her out of his office, she asked, “How might you use the elandine?”

  His face tightened and, without her knowledge of the movement, Larena found that she and Shango had returned directly to the party without ever passing the landing or stairwell.

  Larena wanted to ask more about how he planned to use the artifact, but he clearly silenced their conversation. Did he know the person who’d set the spell against her mother? A chill sliced down Larena’s spine. She didn’t know whether to feel protected by Shango’s precautions or terrified from his apparent fear.

  During the time they’d been in his office, the crowd had grown. Over three hundred people packed the dining hall. Larena spotted Mr. Tynker engaged in an animated conversation with Keir and a few male Coven Council members. Keir’s coyote Waapake panted and stirred from side to side behind his master. Did the energy of Solstice unsettle him? Or all the people? Or the identity of the person who’d done wrong by Larena’s mother?

  She moved to join them and asked, “Has Logan shown up yet?”

  “No. I haven’t seen him,” Keir replied and swung an arm behind Larena to draw her into the group. He and the councilmen had dressed for the occasion in sleek cut double-breasted suits. The seer wore a silk shirt with his suit, both in black that served as a backdrop for his array of crystal amulets gleaming with refracted chandelier light.

  “I need to see Logan tonight. If he shows up, will you tell him to find me?” Since Shango tabled discussion about who enchanted the greeting card, maybe the high priest could help.

  Keir nodded and Mr. Tynker replied, “Will do.” He looked as precisely dressed as usual but with additions of hair gel smoothing back his thin gray hair and a generous splash of spicy cologne. He leaned close to Larena. “I’m so sorry to hear about Irene. You have my deepest condolences. Is there a sign she will become empowered?”

  She touched his arm. “Oh, yes. Dad appeared, then took up residence in the elderberries. He was there when Mom passed and knows she was empowered.”

  “How wonderful for them both.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll be sure to pay Lou a visit this week, and Henry, too. I’ll bet he’s overjoyed to have his son home.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Have you been to the grove?”

  At the mention of the sacred place, Keir spun to face them.

  “Yes, last night.” She beamed. “And I have my magic back.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Mr. Tynker replied.

  Keir grinned. “It’s my deepest satisfaction when my predictions help others achieve great things. Sometime, I’d like to sit down and learn details of your experience at the grove, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “I’d love to help.” She returned his smile, but her gaze wandered the room in search of Logan.

  She couldn’t believe who she saw—not Logan, but Reid. He spoke to the woman manning the hostess desk. He hadn’t moved to New York yet. The surprise sent her heart racing. Heat crawled up her cheeks. Should she talk to him? At least to say goodbye and wish him well? She hesitated and listened to Mr. Tynker speak to others for a while, though what he said slipped past her ears.

  A waitress offered Larena a glass of summer wine, which she accepted but didn’t know whether to drink. Before, the beverage had allowed her to perceive emotions hidden by her subconscious. Would that help now? Faced with so many unknowns? Chancing the outcome, she took a sip.

  As soon as the swallow slipped past her tongue, she regretted the decision. Shango had originally prepared to use the elandine against Reid. What if Shango saw Reid here and assumed he still posed a threat? And did he? With the wine fizzing down her throat, the dangerous consequences she clung to vanished from her mind. She heard her name and turned.

  Reid touched her arm. He looked handsome, dressed for the party, wearing black wool dress pants and a white shirt under his leather jacket. “I came here to see you. I wanted to say—”

  “Goodbye. I got your message and wish you lots of success. It sounds like an exciting job.” She rambled on to cover her nervousness but detected something amiss about him. Something about the way the tiger’s eye glints in his pupils held her more intently than before.

  “No. I’m not here to say goodbye. I’m not leaving.”

  “You’re staying?” A grin burst across her face. Overwhelmed by this sudden change, Larena took another sip to steady herself.

  “My brother Ben is ill, addicted to opioids—that’s what made him so desperate to do those awful things against you. Not that it makes what he did any better.”

  Her smile faded. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear this. I hope he can get therapy.”

  “Me, too. And I’ll be here to help him. As I watched you with your mother, I learned an important lesson. Being happy isn’t about the honors or titles you list after your name, but about how much good you do for those who matter, the people who need you. Ben needs me. I don’t want to leave him. My dad needs me to maintain the family name in the business. That means something.”

  When her name wasn’t on his list of reasons to stay, she struggled to sound upbeat. “I’m so glad you’re staying for them.”

  “I hadn’t seen how important all that was before I met you.” Reid leaned closer. A wavy fringe of his dark red hair fell forward and brushed her forehead. “You’re special, and I’m also staying for you.”

  Larena’s heart fluttered and she stared at him, unable to believe what he’d said.

  “Don’t get scared. I won’t be your adversary. I found out that although my dad started the mall project idea, it was Sibeal who pushed for eminent domain. He was never in favor of it. I’m moving into the Kilfoyles’ house, my deceased aunt and uncle’s place, and will start up the mall on their land.”

  He pulled a folded paper from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her. “I’m solely in charge of the project now. I terminated the eminent domain decree before I drove here. There’s no need to take your land. You can join in with the mall if you like, or not. You decide. Only if you think it will help you.”

  She stared at the legal document which rescinded the notice she’d received hours ago. The fae wine cast aside her doubts and apprehensions. “That’s great! I wanted you to stay. I’d love to include my business as a building in the collective mall. Maybe, if profits get better, I’ll build closer to the property line near where the Kilfoyle barns are located.”

  “And we could convert those into shops, too. I like it.” He beamed and took her hand. “It could be our project, together—as partners.”

  She squeezed his hand.

  “I’ve already moved a few things into the Kilfoyle place. One thing, though. I keep getting burned on the furniture you made. Must be some spell you set when you thought I was your enemy.” He laughed. “Can you remove those spells?”

  “I didn’t set them; my grandpa did. He was trying to help me.” She gazed into his amber eyes and smiled. “I’ll get him to change them. No problem.”

  “Whoa. He can still do magic?”

  She nodded and opened her mouth to explain but stopped when a wave of silence spread from the front of the room.

  She scanned for Sibeal, but didn’t see her.

  Shango stepped onto the raised step that extended along the front desk. “As the time has reached precisely eight thirty-six, we are at Solstice. Let us now honor the passing of the Holly King’s reign and his dark half of the year. And for the rest of this evening, with great joy, we shall welcome the new king who brings the promise of light—the Oak King.” He raised his crystal goblet of summer wine, sparkling like a kaleidoscope. “To the coming seasons of light and love.”

  Cheers and toasts resounded throughout the hall.

  Larena’s brows narrowed and she spoke into Reid’s ear to be heard above the din. “The Lockwood furniture that affects you, what
wood is it made of?”

  He tilted his head. “My desk is oak. And the table at Kilfoyles’ is also. What makes you ask that? Is there some crazy connection to the Oak King?”

  “Could be. Like the Holly King, your brother Ben has receded, dealing with addiction. On the other hand, your goals bring new light to both him and the community. It’s likely, when my grandfather set those spells, he invoked the advancing powers of the Oak King. You and Ben may somehow be aligned with the sabbat’s energy changes.”

  He laughed and placed a strong hand at the small of her back. “I love it. So many things to learn about you and your world. What does sabbat mean?”

  She chuckled. “It’s a pagan festival.”

  Amid their laughter and the celebrations all around, Larena almost didn’t notice a cold draft brush across her shoulders. She turned to see Sibeal standing inside the door. She chatted with Cindy, who took the seer by the arm and led her inside to a group of founding coven members.

  The sight of Sibeal cleared the summer wine’s haze from Larena’s mind. She feared for herself but more for Reid. As Shango said, energy tonight was volatile. Electricity from all sorts of magic—from ancient fae and modern witches—crackled in the air. Anything could happen.

  Caught in a crush of celebrators, she clutched Reid’s hand, hoping their contact would protect him.

  Across the room, Irvine wound down the stairs carrying the velvet bag Larena dreaded. He handed it to Shango.

  “Stay behind me. Things could get dangerous,” Larena said and then pushed against the crowd toward the king. She intended to tell him the eminent domain had been nullified. That Reid posed no threat even though he hadn’t moved to the city.

  Unable to force her way through or even see where Shango went, her next glimpse of the elandine revealed it to be in Mr. Tynker’s hands. The fae king hovered nearby; he’d wanted to share the unusual device with the magical tool specialist.

  While it appeared Shango took precautions to guard the elandine, displaying the dangerous artifact in such an uncontrolled gathering seemed risky. Many present were already drunk. At least, so far, there didn’t seem to be any danger. She kept Reid behind her, though it hardly mattered since he stood a head taller.

  “Sibeal, come here.” Mr. Tynker called to the seer, a few groups away. When she reached him, he bent toward her, displaying the device. “Coven Council members need to be aware of this. Shango informs me they find these somewhat regularly, and their magic can have quite a strong influence on others.”

  Sibeal yanked his hands, which cradled the device, toward her. “I need a better look.”

  The king moved closer, but allowed her to examine it. Was he testing her motives against Larena, ready to enact the elandine if needed?

  She trembled, and Reid stepped around her, as if to protect her. “What is Sibeal doing? Are you at risk?”

  “Stay back.” She clutched his arm and pulled him behind the partial cover of a glass display case along the front desk. Knowing the seer’s thirst for power, Larena held her breath. She whispered to Reid, “That device is dangerous. Sibeal could use it against either of us. I don’t trust her, even if Shango is right there.” From their position a step higher, Larena peered through the glass at those swarming around the elandine.

  With the commotion, people wedged between Shango and the artifact to have a look. In that instant, Sibeal touched the embedded coin. Her face contorted as she dug after it, then she let out a loud hoot, the coin free and in her fingers. She squealed and hugged Mr. Tynker, who, with the granite still in hand, returned her embrace.

  They beamed at each other, their faces red, eyes twinkling.

  “What’s happening?” Reid scrunched his brows. “Looks like some kind of magic, like those two are all of a sudden in love. Or in lust.”

  Sibeal’s hand rested on Mr. Tynker’s chest as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “It’s the magic of the elandine. Finally, Shango sees what’s happening.” Larena checked the route to the front exit, which was packed. She crouched lower, pulling Reid with her.

  The king attempted to dislodge the separated rock and coin of the elandine from the pair, but could not. By the blank expression on his face, Larena didn’t know if he’d anticipated this outcome or not.

  Keir applied an incantation with one of his tribal amulets, which did nothing other than to evoke a string of giggles from Sibeal.

  A sweet fragrance, heavy and cloying, wafted past where Larena and Reid hid—the same smell that perfumed the greeting card.

  Another wave of stillness spread from the front of the hall, twice as fast and ten times quieter.

  A newcomer slunk into their midst, parting the crowd. She was tall and voluptuous, with a black embroidered veil that hid most of her face in mystery. The train of her clingy black gown trailed behind, leaving a wake of smoke. “Well, isn’t this cozy. I thought I’d visit for the sabbat, help my friend Sibeal with her financial crisis, but I see someone else is already trying to help her.” The raspy voice sizzled with powerful voltage that spurred whispers around the room.

  The woman brushed aside her veil and curtain of black hair. From beneath a magnificent raven-feathered headdress, eyes of coal seared into Keir, then admonished Sibeal with an equally disapproving though kinder look.

  Everyone, except the mortal guests and founding coven families, huddled in corners. Some scurried for the exits—terrified of the return of their former high priestess, Adara.

  The fae king bristled and met her icy stare. “Traces of your magic have done harm here. You are not welcome in Fable.”

  “My delicious King Shango,” her hand, encrusted with dark onyx and sparkly marcasite rings, smoothed the creases in the arm of his suit, “I have no quarrel with you or any fae. Like I said, my presence here is merely to support my dear friend.”

  “Speeding the death of my tree mystic’s mother marks you as an enemy of the Summer Court.” His voice reverberated throughout the quiet hall. Chest heaving, he pinned Adara with his emerald eyes. “You must leave, of your own accord or of my will.”

  Her crimson lips curled as sharpened black nails pierced the arm of his jacket.

  In a flash Larena might have missed if she’d blinked, sunlight shot from the king through the point of their contact and illuminated a surge of black smoke that fully concealed Adara. Not even the hem of her elaborate trailing gown could be seen.

  “Sibby, I will avenge you.” Her husky voice faded with the dissipating smoke, leaving behind only a handful of raven feathers and the acrid stench of incinerated fingernails.

  Glowing head to toe with pulsing sunshine, Shango glared at the remains, fists clenched. His head and chest lifted and he scanned the room. “Along with this evil, the midnight hour has passed. I will retire now. Thank you for your company on this auspicious Solstice night. I bid you all wake tomorrow into the joy of the Oak King’s light and leave the darkness we encountered behind.”

  As Shango ascended the stairs, the crowd murmured. Most rose from their seats and gathered belongings.

  “How did the time go so fast?” Reid asked Larena. “It was just after nine the last I checked my watch.”

  “Shango and Adara are powerful. Their encounter might’ve lasted for hours without our knowledge.” She accepted the comfort of Reid’s offered arm and joined the outbound flow, though her thoughts churned. Shango must’ve known Adara would return that night, or at least held strong suspicions. Did he plan what happened with the elandine between Sibeal and Mr. Tynker? If so, why? What would happen to them? She found Mr. Tynker laughing and escorting Sibeal through door ahead of them. Larena feared for him.

  As they hurried to the parking lot, Reid asked, “What just happened in there—are you safe?”

  “Um. I think so. That was between Sibeal, her friend Adara, and Keir, who has quickly become the favorite coven seer.”

  “What about Shango?” Reid asked when they reached Larena’s truck.

  “N
o idea. He’s got more magic than both seers together. He can take care of himself.”

  “And Logan and the coven?”

  “Not so good if Adara will return.” She hissed out a breath.

  He faced Larena and touched the sides of her waist. “I think I picked the right place to live—where I can keep an eye out for you.”

  She gave his chest a playful shove. “You’re either fearless or crazy.”

  “Yes, both, and maybe a little enchanted,” he replied with a wide smile.

  “Me, too.” A shy smile teased her lips. Their whispers of almost-love triggered one more shade of meaning from the summer king’s advice. “Will you follow me to the covered bridge?”

  “The one over Flint Creek?”

  “Yep. That’s the one.” She jumped into her truck and started its engine. With her heart sputtering to the same wild rhythm, she drove to the fae side of the bridge and parked in the gravel pull off.

  Reid drove up and met her at her door.

  “Will you walk with me across the bridge? Let’s see if we feel the magic.” Hand in hand they stepped along the roadway. The invisible new moon sent energy that surged from Reid’s hand to hers—energy for new beginnings.

  At the far side, they paused. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and laughed. “I don’t know about the moon, but I feel your magic.”

  She rested her arms on his shoulders and leaned into the warmth of his broad chest. The heat between them eased any lingering apprehensions from the party.

  He lowered his head, lips grazing hers. A gentle brush of his palm against her cheek carried his scent of musky male with undertones of pine.

  Her body yearned for him, and her hand slipped to the back of his neck, wound through his silky curls.

  He pulled her closer, his lips pressed hard against hers in a probing kiss.

  She pressed tighter, while her lips responded with urgency.

  When reluctantly they broke away and made the return trip over the bridge, she dug into her pocket and handed him one of the two Babette’s candies he’d given her when they first met—spun sugar Dancing Divinity Dewdrops. She opened the other for herself. They danced their way back, hearts soft, open, and entwined.