Soul Inheritance

by Honey A. Hutson

  Katherine sat quietly, staring at the massive structure. “I know this may sound strange, but in last night’s dream I got the clear impression he really loved her, or at least he had loved her. It was almost as if he had no control over his change and she was the one becoming the bigot by not looking past the outside to realize the person that she had loved, had married, was still there. It was so clear, the hurt in his eyes, just before he became enraged.” The face bobbed before her as she remembered. Katherine shook it off. “Let’s go.”

  Putting the discussion aside Dora and Katherine toured the museum. There was a familiarity in the things she saw, deep rooted feelings she found distressing on deep levels. It was almost personal, as though she were experiencing the unnerving sensation of being hunted along with the so called witches of Salem.

  Once they were back out in the clear, bright light of day Dora turned her attentions to the night ahead, much to Katherine’s relief. She wanted nothing more but to put the unpleasant feelings the museum stirred behind her.

  “We need to go by Bell’s house on the way back. I think I’ve contacted everyone I need to but her. There was Ivy, at the first herb store, and Alexia at the jewelry shop. Then there was Margaret at the clothing shop where you found the outfits you liked. Bethany and Charlene make seven. Karla and Serena finish us out at nine. That should do us just fine. I got all the ingredients that I didn’t have and I need to go home and take a few fresh things out of the garden. Fresh is best, you know.”

  “Wow. Nine other people who know. That’ll seem weird. Especially since I’ve kept this entire thing to myself. I just wish…” Katherine’s smile faded as she felt a tinge of the loneliness realizing she couldn’t call her father to share.

  Dora put a supportive hand on Katherine’s arm. “He knows, dear. He’s with you in some ways.”

  “Umm… maybe. I have the feeling he’s there. Waiting for me to figure it out and help him. I think maybe I’m the reason he died. That he did it to draw them away. Buy me time.”

  “My smart little Miranda. I knew you were worth the wait…” Greystone purred in her ear. This time she held her ground, ignored it as the little voice of annoyance that it was.

  ‘You can’t hurt me. I’m figuring it out, Grey One. I’m the one who holds the power in this relationship. For whatever reason you need me, which means you can’t or won’t kill me. I’ll figure you out and when I do I’m coming for you. This ends, with me.’

  ‘It’s Greystone and death is not the worst thing you have to fear my dear Katherine. By the way, there’s someone waiting here for you. Someone who’s future depends as much on you as your own does. There’re worse things than death. You’ll learn, in time. Don’t keep him waiting, come home.’

  ‘Time is the one thing I’m not giving you. I’ll be there soon enough.’

  The silent conversation lasted for several blocks. Dora did not interrupt. She could see something was transpiring. It was evident in the silent stare of her eyes, in the change of demeanor. Dora was no longer the only one there and she stayed clear, let Katherine handle it herself. They pulled up to the curb in front of Dora’s Place.

  Quietly they gathered their shopping bags and passed beneath the sun catchers into the safety of Dora’s Place. Katherine breathed deeply of the air. It seemed so much more pure, clean, safe.

  “I’m going to put this stuff in the kitchen and go get what I need from the garden. How’s chicken sound for dinner?” Dora headed toward the kitchen.

  “Sounds good. I’m going to put these things upstairs, I’ll meet you back there in a few minutes.” She bounded up the stairs, feeling lighter than she had in months.

  The purchases of the day were put away. Everything but what she would wear tonight. She laid a pair of dangling earrings with blue sparkling moons hanging at their tips, a necklace of braided, antiqued silver with a matching moon and a black leather bracelet with antiqued silver Celtic knots at its middle on the table. Turning to her larger shopping bags she took out a turquoise silk blouse that reminded her of what she thought the deep ocean must look like, though she’d never seen it in person. A long black crushed silk skirt with silver moons and stars and a long tasseled tie at the waist finished off the polished, but comfortable look.

  Katherine stood before the mirror and stared in wonder. It looked so different from the uptight, starch things she usually wore. The jeans and blouses she’d adopted since her father’s death had been okay, but this looked and felt natural. As if there was a new side emerging. Like a butterfly from a chrysalis.

  In her heart she knew about that other side. She’d been suppressing it for years. Now she needed that other person. Needed her strength, her brazenness. Openly she welcomed the newcomer. Wished for her. Someone who was coming out, helping her come into her own. Her destiny was finally showing itself and though it had scared the crap out of her, the energy now flowed and was beginning to bring her comfort and assurance. Things she could never really remember having before.

  A pair of canvas tennis shoes finished the look and she went back down to the kitchen. As she entered she found Dora at the sink washing potatoes.

  “Wow. Look at you.”

  Katherine smiled and came to stand by Dora, looking out the window into the back yard. “It’s so beautiful here. I don’t know how you do it. Live in one place your whole life.”

  “But haven’t you lived in one place most of your life?” Dora looked confused.

  “I guess I have, I don’t know why I said that.” It was odd, but North Carolina was a lifetime away.

  “Miranda was a gypsy. She didn’t stay in one place until the lake. Maybe you’re picking up on her, starting to merge?”

  “It’s possible, if we’re one in the same. Then again, maybe being away from all of that is allowing me to become myself. There are no influences like in North Carolina. Maybe it’s freeing me. This is the first time in my life I haven’t had direction. There’s nothing to influence me.”

  “That’s possible, too.” Dora turned toward the kitchen island so Katherine wouldn’t see the hint of doubt on her face. “The others are coming for dinner. It’s customary when you seek help that you spend a little time with them and the subject of the help, usually over a meal.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “You can move a couple of the tables on the back deck together until we have enough to seat everyone. Then put out the linens and set the tables.”

  “What about the other guests? Are they going to be here for this?”

  Dora laughed, “You know, I could use that as a tourist hook. Come stay the night in a real witch’s house and witness a ‘casting’ and coven meeting.” She smiled and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “But for tonight we’re alone. The two couples that were here last night checked out this morning and there aren’t any more reservations due to arrive until tomorrow.” Noting Katherine’s clouded expression she added, “Don’t worry, it wasn’t you, they were due to leave this morning.”

  “Oh. For a minute there I thought I’d run them off with this morning’s… episode.”

  “No, nothing so dramatic. The dishes are in the cabinet in the dining room and the linens are in the bottom drawers.”

  The women arrived one at a time, each hanging their jackets up in the front hallway closet as if they came often. Each carried various forms of bags, most paper with little string handles. Various herbs, candles, holders and other paraphernalia were contained within and they were placed on a table off to the side.

  Dora introduced Katherine to each one in turn, though most she had met at their various shops. The table was set with crackle glass candle holders down the middle that held white and purple pillar candles. The table cloth was purple and smooth with a pattern of raised roses. Matching napkins were tucked in wine glasses. The green tableware and silver utensils were a nice complement finishing the nice, but relaxed
appearance of dinner with friends.

  After arriving everyone helped carry the food out to the patio. The salad passed around the noisy table quickly and everyone chatted about nothing in particular. Katherine found herself listening intently to the camaraderie. She’d never felt so much a part of something as she did of these women and their community friendship.

  Over roasted chicken, corn on the cob from the garden, whole potatoes and green beans the conversation turned more toward what was happening with each individual. By dessert the conversation fell away until they were looking at Katherine with unabated interest. It was time to tell them why they were here.

  Chapter eight

  Nigel dumped his bags on the floor just inside the door of the suite. It was spacious, with a living room, bar and large bathroom - complete with Jacuzzi. Just beyond the bed was a window that looked out over part of Bangor. He plopped down on the bed and stretched out, kicking off his shoes. He was tired from the flight and the subsequent entertainment.

  “Ah, Gretchen. Oh so sweet,” he droned as he lay looking at the ceiling, replaying the morning tryst. The smile was that of a cougar that had eaten the rabbit and all its tender young. After a few moments he got up to go take a cold shower. He would catch a few hours sleep before getting dressed to prowl the nearest nightclub for tonight’s companionship.

  ‡

  Katherine and Dora filled in as much information as possible for the ladies in attendance. They all listened intently and mused over what they heard, searching their collective knowledge for anything useful.

  “Well, I’m derived from a long line of gypsies. My family only settled down two generations ago, here in Salem, where they found acceptance. Old Hawthorn would probably be spinning in his grave if he knew how his abhorrence had spawned a place of such acceptance and diversity.” Ivy scooted forward in her chair so she was sitting on the very edge. She was young with slightly dark skin that suggested a summer tan, and dark eyes. Her face had fine bones and high arched brows with a flood of nearly black hair spilling over her shoulders in loose curls. “I could probably find out more about the ring for you, given a little time. I can tell you that the draw to be in a place where she was accepted for who she was would’ve been strong. Maybe even strong enough to cloud her judgment, to accept some of the power offered her. She would’ve likely only taken part in something that enhanced her own power, though.” She looked thoughtful. “Most of us are very cautious about getting into something beyond our own natural abilities, despite the reputation we are given by outsiders as opportunists.”

  “That’d be good. Maybe you can help her get some perspective if she finds she is Miranda tonight. Maybe we can joggle the memories the magic won’t necessarily bring out. Time’s not exactly on her side here. She needs to remember as much as she can as quickly as possible, for her own protection.” Dora was stern and serious.

  “Why not include a protection spell? Something that’ll help once she’s there.” Bell spoke up from the other end of the table. An older woman with silver hair that was shoulder length but curly. She had an intense look about her. It was the way she carried herself, her presence, her bearing. Her features were strong, if wrinkled, and she looked like someone who was used to being in charge. Katherine remembered seeing her talking to Dora on the front porch of her enormous old house. Even at a distance she looked like someone who could and did handle things.

  “That could be helpful, though there isn’t much we can do in that department except minimize the small threats along the way. The powers and creatures she’s dealing with are stronger than we can defend against. These’re definitely old powers, if not ancient ones. That leaves a lot of grey area.”

  Katherine looked up at Dora, a shadow crossing her memory and her face.

  “What is it?” Dora reached out and touched her shoulder.

  “I…” she hesitated, brow wrinkling. “Grey… Grey…” frustration built as the memory tugged at her. “Greystone. His name was Greystone.”

  “How do you know?” Ivy spoke in an excited whisper.

  “This morning,” it was no longer a tug of war; the memory flowed as clearly as the rest of the day. “Why would he fight that? Fight letting me remember his name?”

  Bell chuckled. “There’s power in a name. We can use it to block him out during the ceremony.”

  “It’s sad. I think in some way we can all associate with him. He lived in a time when the very existence of his family line was in danger. They were facing extinction by bigots who just didn’t understand their ways. People who had no business interfering in their beliefs or practices. He did what he had to do to protect his family and their future.” Margaret was sitting two people down from Katherine. She was somber. “If you’re the last of his line then it’s imperative that he sway you, make you understand. Or everything he did would’ve been for nothing. His sacrifice of himself to this would’ve been for nothing. Wasted.”

  Katherine stared at her glass. That was a new way of looking at it. What if he didn’t want her at all? What if he sought her understanding to draw her back to the folds of the family? If that was what he wanted he had an odd way of showing it. She rubbed her upper arms absently, grimaced and shifted uncomfortably.

  “I think he loved Miranda,” Katherine said absently. Looking around at the guests she drew herself up straight. “I need to know if I’m her. Did I somehow get reborn into my family line from earlier lives where I had no control? If that’s the case why am I here now? What’s changed to make me stronger? If I am. Whether his intentions started out honorable or not he turned into this… thing that he is now and he’s been taking family members with him every since. I’ve got to end it now. Or the line has no future because it will die with me.”

  “Umm… no, that’s not true. What about the aunt? Did she have any children?” Serena spoke up from across the table.

  “How’d you know about my aunt?” Katherine straigh-tened, stiffened. There’d been no mention of her at this table.

  “Sorry, I’m empathic. It was laying just below the surface in your mind. I couldn’t help it. So, what about it? Did she?”

  Dora looked up at Serena, seemed to study her closely, but said nothing.

  Katherine thought a moment. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really been concentrating on any of that. I’ve been more concerned with dealing with the thing that took my father and finding out what to do.”

  “Well, you might want to find her first,” Margaret interjected. “If there’re others you might need to know. Are they affected? Maybe they’re looking for answers. Maybe they can help you. If they’ve already been swayed, you’ll need to watch out for them.”

  “I don’t think there’re others. I don’t know why, I just don’t think so. He’s concentrating too hard on me. He seems to think I’m the only chance for whatever it is he wants.”

  “Maybe he just wants you to be her. If he’s in love with Miranda then he may desperately want her, or you, to be with him. Eternity is a long time.” Serena held eye contact exclusively with Katherine as she spoke. It was almost as if they shared some deep bond that Katherine wasn’t privy to, but felt in the burn of her stare.

  “Only one way to find out,” Dora added, “Let’s do it.”

  The conversation turned to the ritual they were all there to perform. Everything was explained so that Katherine would know what to expect. If it worked - and Katherine and Miranda were one in the same – then the memories of her past would begin to come back to her, though not all at once. They didn’t want to overwhelm her with information. If it worked she would know immediately, but the knowledge would come in fragments, hopefully as she needed them.

  They gathered in the gazebo at the middle of the garden. Small lanterns with fogged glass and dragonfly patterns were hung from the support posts. Each housed a candle, throwing a soft glow over the group. The women held a candle in one hand and an i
ngredient in the other. They sat on benches along the edges, taking up three quarters of the circle. The other quarter housed a small, narrow table set out from the wall. As everyone settled into place Dora took a spot behind the little table and Katherine realized with a little uncertainty it was an alter.

  “Sit on the cushion,” Dora instructed.

  Katherine turned to find a purple cushion in the center of the circle. She took her place there, glancing around at the serious and determined faces. She felt strangely at home here. As if she knew them all in some way. If reincarnation was how things were then perhaps she did know them, from other times, other lives. She wondered if that would help her now. There was hope as she turned her attention back to Dora.

  The alter had begun to take shape. Dora spread a white cloth, placed a purple runner down the middle and five of the crackle glass candleholders along it. Next she set a black iron ring with legs over the center candle, lit them all, then brought out a shallow bowl made of pottery that fit into the iron stand.

  Dora glanced at Katherine with amusement. “Not exactly a caldron. Clay, of the earth.” She picked up a small jar with a corked top, pulled out the cork. “Vervain tincture first.” She poured it into the bowl, swished it around. “Then holy water.” This was poured from a tall thin jar, its light green glass nearly glowing in the candlelight. Then she reached to the side and pulled out an incense cone and holder, lit that and set it to the side as narrow wisps of smoke spiraled upward.