Logan spoke up. “The rest of us here need to watch out for Cerise’s family, that they don’t end up Adara’s newest targets. And keep an eye on Rowe’s and Vika’s places for the same reasons.”
“We sure will.” Art glanced at his son, who nodded.
Keir and Clarence pledged their support as well.
Rowe raised his hands. “Before we leave, I have one more request. Vika’s familiar Siddie, the Maine Coon cat most of you know, has gone missing. She chased Adara after the attack. If you can, please spend time with me now to search for her. Clarence, would you please remain here to watch over Vika while Jancie and Rachelle go home to prepare for the trip?”
“Will do.” Clarence laid a hand on his knee. “Best thing with this leg acting up.”
Keir had Waapake sniff Siddie’s cat bed. The coyote let out a yelp and raced through the doorway.
Cups were laid down, and the others filed out of the warm kitchen into the blustery, overcast afternoon.
***
As dusk turned to darkness, Rowe and the men returned to Vika’s where she met them on the porch.
Her face fell when Siddie wasn’t with them.
Rowe avoided her gaze, unable to find the words he’d have to say.
Art and Kyle embraced Rowe, then took to their car.
Jancie drove up as they were leaving.
When Rowe hugged Jancie’s aunt, he realized his shoulders were knotted and stiff with stress. Ignoring his pain, he, Keir, and Logan helped unload Jancie’s car and get everyone situated into sleeping places. Rowe was glad for the company of others at the end of this hard day.
They gathered in the potion kitchen where Vika and Clarence were working to prepare a meal. A savory smell of sage dressed chicken greeted the tired crew.
Waapake nuzzled Rowe, and he knew it was time. “Vika, we found Siddie. Just outside of the woods near the turn onto Road 210.”
Vika came closer and took his hand. “I know what you have to tell me.” Her eyes clouded over.
“Her body lay dead in the ditch, burned with Adara’s dark magic.” Rowe looked to Keir.
Jancie and Rachelle hugged each other.
“I was there when her spirit set free from her body. Waapake and I communicated with her in that form. It was her wish to take on a new body to continue as your familiar, rather than wait for you in the cemetery. We buried her empty body there, and it will remain until her spirit is ready to rest.” A tear slipped down his cheek. “She left us with words for you. ‘I will find you and serve you always.’”
Vika collapsed into Rowe’s shoulder, sobbing.
Waapake rubbed his side against her bare legs and filled the room with a mournful howl.
Rowe held Vika’s shaking body tight. His heart swelled with determination to right these wrongs.
He was sure Jancie’s feelings of pain, anger, and purpose met his. One by one, he sensed the same from each friend. He said a silent gratitude and looked around the room, meeting their gazes.
Chapter Twenty-four: The Elder
On one of the twin beds in a small bedroom of Vika’s house, Jancie packed the last few items into her suitcase.
Her best friend, who shared the space, stumbled back from the bathroom with a groan.
“What took you so long?” Jancie asked.
“I didn’t know this old house wasn’t wired for hair dryers.” She tossed the offending appliance into her bag, her layered hair more frizzed than styled. “I spent the last fifteen minutes dodging cobwebs in the basement to reach the fuse box and trip the breaker.”
Jancie’s hair hadn’t looked much better, but she controlled it with the two sides secured on top of her head with a barrette. She’d opted for comfort with jeans and a knit top for the drive.
“Fun. And New Wish is even older.” Jancie zipped her luggage closed and yanked it off the bed onto the floor. “Don’t expect more conveniences there. On your way through the house, did you notice whether Siddie, in a new form, had found Vika yet?”
“I only heard Vika and Starla laughing like old friends in the kitchen.”
Jancie let out a sigh. “My aunt’s a dear, cheering Vika up. I’m sure glad to have you and Aunt Starla along.”
“No problem.” Rachelle shoved last night’s pajamas into her bag. “Hey, I was wondering…how do you feel about being a witch? Are you okay with it?”
“Yeah. I don’t really feel any different. I guess Mom taught me more about being a witch than I knew. I thought all mothers did strange stuff with herbs.”
Rachelle chuckled. “Hardly, but your mom was great.”
“Controlling my powers does feel odd, like I don’t exactly know what I’m doing.” Jancie grinned. “Kind of like everything else in my life.”
Rachelle shot her a smile. “I hear you on that one.”
Jancie hoisted the bag into the hallway, and Logan plucked it from her hand.
In the other, he picked up Aunt Starla’s from outside of her door and headed downstairs.
The delicious smell of bacon wafted up in his wake and made Jancie’s mouth water.
Her aunt and Vika talked in the galley kitchen. Jancie wondered how the two could fit into that narrow space, but when she reached the door, the two women operated with consideration and efficiency. They even wore matching red bib aprons.
“Can I help?” Jancie asked.
“Only with your appetite.” Aunt Starla’s eyes twinkled. “Grab a plate and dig in.”
Jancie couldn’t help but smile at her great aunt, clearly happy to be useful.
Vika motioned to the counter. “We have a hearty breakfast all ready, complete with fried potatoes and onions, bacon, sausage, scrambled egg casserole, and Starla’s famous cornbread.”
Jancie and Rachelle each took one of the mismatched plates and sampled everything, including a large piece of cornbread.
Logan and Rowe blew in, rain-soaked, and joined the women. Rowe dressed casually in a dress shirt and trousers, with a trench coat rather than a sport jacket over top. “I’m sure glad you offered your car, Rachelle,” Rowe said between bites. “No one else drives anything big enough to hold six people and their suitcases.”
She grinned while she munched a strip of bacon. “The boat comes in handy more than you know.”
“The boat?” Vika’s brow creased.
“Slang for an oversized, old car,” Logan replied.
“Really? Is Rowe’s Studebaker sedan a boat?”
Logan chuckled and shook his head. “That’s older than old.”
Over his glass of juice, Rowe glared at his friend with mock annoyance. “Just vintage. I happen to like my dad’s cars.” He lifted a forearm and motioned for his owl to land.
Busby settled and accepted a bite of cornbread.
“While I’m away to New Wish, Busby, you and Maeira will remain here.”
The little owl hung his head and hunched his shoulders.
“I’d like for you to come along, but I really need your help here. As my familiar, you alone share my powers. Someone needs to keep watch over our house and property. While I’m away, I entrust you to use my powers to keep the homestead safe.”
Busby rolled an eye up at Rowe.
Maeira flapped her wings from her perch on a side chair. “My son, that’s a huge responsibility for a familiar. Be proud your master trusts you that much with his powers.”
Busby’s cream-colored chest feathers puffed, and he lifted his head. “Thank you, Master. I’ll keep the home place safe.”
Rowe rubbed a hand across the owl’s head. “I’m relieved to be able to count on you. If you have any trouble, report to Keir since he’s good with familiars. He’ll have some grains for you and Maeira daily.”
Busby cocked his head and winged out of the room. A minute later a knock sounded at the front door. He called back, “It’s Cerise. Someone, please come open the door for her.”
Rachelle darted out to help, laughing. “You mean you haven’t learned how to open
doors yet? I’m going to have a word with your master about that.”
Jancie giggled at her friend’s humor and easy manner. It was wonderful that she seemed at ease with these coven folk and hoped her reception in New Wish would be the same.
With Rachelle and Busby leading the way, Cerise stepped into the potion kitchen. “It smells so good in here.” She blessed each face with her warm smile. Her perky bobbed brown hair curled neatly under at chin-length, and her horn-rimmed glasses highlighted her friendly dark eyes. Petite and dressed in a powder blue trench coat, she fit Jancie’s mental image of her mother’s garden faeries rather than a witch.
“Have you eaten, dear?” Vika jumped up and walked to the witch, half her age, and took her coat.
“I had a quick bowl of cereal between getting my three boys and husband up and fed.”
“Help yourself to food in the small kitchen.” Vika nodded to her new pal. “Starla, Jancie’s great aunt, made the best cornbread I’ve ever had.”
“Starla!” Cerise zipped around the table, and the two women hugged. When Cerise pulled back, she fixed her grin on Jancie. “I’m beginning to figure out how I know you. I remember your aunt and grandmother when we all happened to be visiting New Wish. I was just a girl then. You look so much like them. I’m glad to be able to help you out.”
Rowe pushed back from the table. “Let’s plan to leave in twenty minutes.”
“I left my bag on the porch,” Cerise said to him as she made her way into the food kitchen.
***
A few minutes before noon, Jancie and the others huddled on the porch. Big raindrops came down with force enough to smart. She folded her arms across her chest, staring at what seemed like one more in a string of deterrents to reaching her goal. One by one, they darted through the hard rain to Rachelle’s car, parked close to the porch.
Rachelle insisted on driving since the weather was so bad. She spread her wet skirt out while the others peeled off rain jackets.
Logan waved them off from Vika’s front porch.
“Damn, this car is loaded.” On the main county road, Rachelle pressed the accelerator to the floor to get the car going.
Jancie sat on the narrow center part of the divided front bench seat, snuggled against Rowe’s shoulder.
He squeezed her hand and pointed to the right-hand ditch.
She nodded, sensing the lingering traces of burnt evil held down by the rain.
From the backseat, Vika sobbed softly. “I really don’t like leaving home while Siddie’s spirit is missing. At least I have dear Logan to stop by every day in case she returns.”
The car filled with conversation to cheer Vika, but everyone quieted when Rachelle turned onto State Route 46 and headed west out of Bentbone.
After an hour, Jancie stretched and turned.
Vika leaned against Starla, both asleep with mouths open, while Cerise worked on her cell phone.
Jancie nudged Rowe and rolled her eyes toward the backseat. “You’re not the only one.”
He glanced behind. “Nor should I be. We need cell phones. I’m working toward that with Clarence, Art, and Kyle.” He rubbed his forehead and massaged his temples.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Just a bit of a headache.” He leaned his head back, and she threaded her arm through his and held his hand.
As they drove the last leg of the windy route south, Jancie bent low and craned her neck to see the tops of the taller Appalachian foothills. The rain had stopped. Mist rolled above the colorful trees, taking on hues of red, orange, and yellow, like the balls of cotton candy sold at last week’s carnival.
“Heads up, everyone,” Rachelle called out. “Only ten miles to New Wish.”
Those in the backseat roused and groaned.
It was mid afternoon, when the Chrysler chugged up a huge hill. At the crest, the highway followed a high ridge to the right while Rachelle made a left turn and descended a steep grade into a valley. “And we thought our Coon Hollow was isolated.”
The road wound through brigades of fifty-foot oak and hickory soldiers protecting various outcroppings of log cabins.
“This looks creepy.” Jancie scanned both sides of the road and looked into the backseat. “Cerise and Aunt Starla, is this the coven or the town?”
Starla chuckled. “It’s both, dear. Coven homes are marked on the front with five-pointed pentangles.”
“Only the ceremonial grounds and meeting house are kept protected and separate.” Cerise sat up and placed a hand on Jancie’s shoulder. “It looks a lot different than the Hollow, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does,” Jancie replied. “Like we’ve entered a secret place with the nearby hills so steep they’re like walls.” From her early years of college down south along the Ohio River, she expected deeper valleys than the rolling hills at home. But the remote stillness here surprised her. Almost frozen in the time period of early settlement. Barns, larger than most homes, stabled horses. Split-rail fences marked off grazing areas. On drives and lawns, horse-drawn buggies were parked, not the black Amish sort, but fiery red, emerald green, and cobalt blue. Cars were scarce, and then only old pickups with rust that defied recognition of their ages.
“I do see log cabins with partial walls of limestone like the style in our coven, but not any Victorian houses at all,” Rowe added.
“And no open areas with livestock or small farms like home,” Vika said.
Jancie looked out of Rowe’s window. “In Bentbone, cabins are mostly used for tourist shops and motels or artist galleries and homes. Here, those are all I see.”
Rachelle sighed and glanced at a group of three houses tucked into a pine grove. “Look at the smoke curling from their chimneys. I want to live in a cabin. My dream.”
“You’ve wanted a cabin forever,” Jancie said.
“Still saving for one.”
“Bet they’re plenty cheap down here, Rachelle,” Starla called from the backseat.
“Umm, no thanks. Too isolated.” She pulled to a stop and looked both ways before crossing in front of an oncoming one-horse red buggy. “No cars? Are there any stores?”
“I saw a gas station and a farm market,” Jancie replied.
“You won’t see no Wal-Mart here or any motels neither,” Starla added. “It’s not the place for tourists.”
“The main part of town is just ahead,” Cerise directed. “Drive through that, and I’ll show you where to turn.”
The business district made Bentbone’s five blocks seem like a thriving city. A long square-logged cabin spanned a whole block. A wooden sign declared it to be the town hall of New Wish. Across the street stood the only brick buildings Jancie had seen. A grocery, a hardware store, and a pharmacy occupied the block. Both sides of the street had angled parking to accommodate the extra length of horses and buggies. Close to a dozen rigs were parked. On adjacent corners stood a feed store and a blacksmith. That was the extent of buildings created as businesses. Scattered cabins ahead were marked with signs for a seamstress, a doctor, and a lawyer.
Folks walking the sidewalks or sitting on benches stared at their car as they passed. Residents of New Wish looked normal, most wearing jeans, plaid shirts, and hiking boots. Some women wore full-skirted dresses that reminded Jancie of pioneer clothing she’d seen at historical reenactments near home.
“Something tells me there’s no internet access here.” Rachelle glanced at Jancie. “Check your her phone.”
Jancie shook her head. “Nope. No service.”
“Turn left at the next street,” Cerise directed. “Then on the right, you’ll see a house with a huge pentangle at the door. Turn in there.”
A tidy two-story log home sat closer to the road than cabins they’d seen farther out of town. Fading perennial beds flanked the wide front porch.
They spilled out of the car, and Cerise sprang up the brick walk.
A prominent circle of wood painted with a colorful pentangle hung above the porch steps.
&nb
sp; “Hold up a bit,” Vika protested. “Us old timers need to stretch our legs.” She and Aunt Starla lumbered up the walk after the others, holding onto each other up the steps.
It wasn’t until Jancie reached the porch that she noticed her own legs were stiff. Her right arm where she’d leaned against Rowe was pricking as blood rushed back into it.
Rowe missed a step, and she caught his hand. Apparently, he was overeager too.
Purple coneflowers missing a few petals turned their heads from the afternoon sunlight to face the dark porch. Yellow-eyed blue periwinkle asters did the same and partially closed their centers as if squinting at the visitors.
Vika took Jancie by the elbow and nodded toward the flowers. “See those plants? They’re checking you out.”
Jancie flinched. “Me?”
The old lady nodded. “They smell your New Wish blood.”
“Or the peppermint in my pocket from Mom’s garden that likely came from this area.” Jancie chuckled and patted her jeans pocket.
Cerise grinned at Jancie and knocked on the door.
A tall, robust older woman in her fifties poked a head out, then pushed the door wide and stepped out. “Cerise!” She held her arms open, and the two exchanged a quick hug. “You’ve brought us some company, both old and new in so many ways that I’m getting dizzy.” The woman nodded to Rachelle and Vika. “New faces.” She grinned at Jancie and Rowe. “And new faces and old spirits.” Her gaze locked on Starla. “And one face I could never forget. Starla!” She stepped across the porch and embraced her old friend.
Starla lit up. “Neala, it’s sure good to see you, after what is it, more than two decades?”
Neala matched Starla in height, tall with a sturdier frame like a tree trunk compared to Starla’s soft rolls of flesh. While Starla’s hair hung in thin white curls around her head, Neala wore her stick straight salt and pepper hair cropped close. She dressed simply in jeans and a chambray work shirt, a silver pentangle at her throat.
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