Then Jancie knew. It was time for her to make her one wish. She remembered the wording she wanted to use. I wish to break the Tabard curse on the enchanted griever’s moonstone I wear, setting Rowe McCoy free of its debilitating ailment.
Jancie looked up at the moon and surrendered her fear. Fia had cast aside decades of deep fear and pain and opened to her. The blue of Fia’s eyes had taught the element’s lesson Jancie needed to follow. Her powers as a witch were now unlocked and surged through her body. She wrapped her arms tighter around Fia and embraced her with the pure love of true friends.
Jancie lifted her face to the moon, and her voice rang out with her wish. When the reverberation quieted in her throat, animals of the forest and farms carried the sounds of her wish in all directions. The valley came to life around them.
Chapter Twenty-seven: The Storm
Jancie ran along the dark dirt roads, panting. Fia had begged Jancie to stay for dinner, but she needed to see Rowe more than anything else.
Before she’d left the hermit witch, they exchanged locks of their hair. Holding the jet black and ginger strands together in clasped hands, they vowed to keep their friendship alive. If not together for future full moons, they promised to hold the other’s hair and remember their special meeting.
The locks were stored in tiny wooden boxes which Fia had whittled. Neighbor women sold her handicrafts in fairs to help provide a meager income.
Jancie promised to visit her new friend during the coming days. Words tumbling from her mouth, she explained her love for Rowe, how the curse affected him, and how she hoped her wish ended his suffering.
With a teary hug, Fia gave Jancie directions and sent her on her way.
Thankful for her experience as a runner but not so happy with the weight of hiking boots, Jancie tried to pace herself. Since she’d traveled a long way along a winding stream, her ability to gauge distance was unreliable. Darkness didn’t help. Three times she thought she approached Samuel’s farm, and three times she was wrong.
Songbirds and squirrels followed her from tree to tree along the roadsides. Their twittering and chattering brought more followers: hoot owls, raccoons, and even a few skunks. Although cautious about the skunks, the company cheered Jancie forward.
About half a mile later, the heavy boots strained her legs and forced her to slow to a jog. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks. She must save Rowe.
Around the next bend, Samuel’s hefty horse brayed to her from his stall door.
She waved at the horse and found a burst of energy. Now retracing her previous route, she knew only about two miles remained. Reduced again to a jog on the main road, she considered calling Neala but pushed the thought away. This was her quest to complete alone.
The town lights came into view. Jancie pushed into a run, and a stabbing knot of pain shot through one thigh. She crumbled, moaning between gasps for air while massaging the cramped quadriceps muscle. Not now. Damn, I can’t even walk. The moonstone locket swung into her face. Thinking it could be part of her problem, Jancie reached up and tried to yank it off. The chain wouldn’t budge from her neck, and she realized the gem enchanted with Eartha’s spell wouldn’t release until Jancie fulfilled her destiny of breaking the Tabard curse.
Nearby critters sounded alarming cries. Sharp hoots, raucous tweets, and a chorus of howls filled the air.
Jancie shook her head and bit her lip. When her hands brushed the front of her jeans as she tried to stand, the fragrance of peppermint filled the air. She dug her hand into the pocket and clutched a limp leaf to her damp cheek. Get me to him. Please.
Moments later, the invigorating sensation of mint coursed through her injured leg. The exhausted muscles cooled and relaxed. Jancie took a tentative step, then another. The pain was manageable. Not chancing her luck, she kept to a walk and reached town. Heartened, she picked up the pace and race-walked the last three blocks to Neala’s.
The wide log cabin porch was crowded with happy people calling to her, but she only saw one face.
Rowe ran down the steps toward her, arms wide.
Jancie tried to run, and pain surged through the quad again. With a groan, she stumbled.
“I’ve got you.” Rowe’s arms enfolded her. “It’s my turn to heal you now.” He swept her into his arms, carried her onto porch, and set her on a rope hammock chair.
Her friends and family crowded around, along with new faces who may have been extended family for all she knew.
Rowe’s warm hands, dripping with blue light, followed bands of her thigh muscles. Healing heat penetrated the fibers, repairing tears and bringing oxygen to relieve cramps.
After he made several passes, she flexed and extended her leg. “Ah, better. Only stiff. No pain.” She stood and sank into his arms.
Neala patted Jancie’s shoulder. “You did well, Jancie. I’m so proud of you. And Faye would be, too.”
Jancie spun in Rowe’s arms and smiled at the chieftainess. “She knows. She and her peppermint faery helped me get back with this injury.”
Neala beamed. “Now that you’ve connected to your powers, you and I will have lots to do in these two weeks before Mabon. You need to learn how to harness your source, the south wind.”
“Will that be hard?” Jancie asked.
“No. Easy compared to learning to trust your life on your instincts—what you did today, as I just read through touching your shoulder.”
“Welcome back, Jancie.” Vika smiled and hugged the couple. “Like I’ve been saying, you’re a darned good witch. What did your blue element turn out to be?”
The New Wish witches present hushed.
“Oh!” Vika scanned their wide-eyed faces. “Did I say something wrong? So sorry if I did.” Her voice faded.
Neala patted Vika’s arm. “Just a different custom. You didn’t step on any toes. It’s up to Jancie whether she wants to share or not. Many witches here don’t, since connecting to their powers is personal.”
Vika nodded and withdrew.
“Actually, I’d like to share.” Jancie addressed the group of about twenty on the porch. “I think there’s something for everyone to learn. It was the blue streaks in Fia Tabard’s black eyes that taught me to trust my powers completely.”
“Fia Tabard?” Vika clamped a hand over her mouth.
Rowe leaned around Jancie’s shoulder. “Did her threats to kill you force you to depend on your powers?”
“No. In fact, it was her request for me to be her friend that made me trust my instincts rather than being afraid of her. She believed the full moon brought me to her. And I think she’s right.” Jancie pulled the handmade wooden box from her zipped jacket pocket and revealed Fia’s hair. “We exchanged locks of hair in her little boxes, promising at each full moon to remember tonight.”
Vika shook her head. “I’d have never thought it.”
Rowe rubbed his chin stubble. “Me neither, but then after her brother and older sister were killed, Fia left her family.”
“The accident with my dad and Adara?” Jancie asked.
Vika nodded. “Grizela said Fia went mad from being able to predict her siblings’ deaths but not soon enough to save them.”
Jancie blinked at the disbelieving faces staring at her. “I know Fia’s sort of a wilding, but she claimed her family had left her.”
Vika stroked a gnarled finger along one temple. “Now that I’m thinkin’, I wonder if Fia wasn’t cast out for not being able to give adequate warning.”
“Now that sounds like Grizela.” Rowe rubbed Jancie’s shoulders. “Trusting Fia must’ve challenged your sense of right and wrong—the truth of a witch and source of his or her powers.”
Vika clucked her tongue and shrugged. “Still, it’s hard for me to believe any good came from a Tabard.”
Neala tilted her head. “From the start, Fia always chose to keep to herself on the edge of our coven. No doubt her powers are strong. Just going past her house, I can feel them.” She lifted a brow. “Maybe it took an o
ffer of genuine friendship to break the dark magic of the Tabard curse.”
“That could well be.” Rowe hugged Jancie tighter. “At any rate, I’m so happy you found your element and broke the curse.”
***
The next morning, Jancie began Neala’s practice lessons to be able to use the south wind’s energy. After days of routine drills, Jancie’s control advanced. She made trees bend to her requests and streams flow more slowly or swiftly. She visited Fia and came back with new skills for using the south wind to draw down the moon’s waxing and waning powers. Neala helped Jancie harness clouds until they surrendered themselves as her servants. She summoned their rain showers and torrents, their breezes and gales, but their lightning interested Jancie the most.
With a ball of golden lightning in her hand, she studied its properties. The crackling electricity sent her hair streaming back, and her skin prickled. The rush of energy into her brain was exhilarating.
“You should see yourself!” Rowe exclaimed as he approached her in Neala’s backyard. “Your hair looks like spun gold, and your face is glowing.”
“She looks like a goddess, doesn’t she?” Neala smiled from where she watched on a rough split log bench.
Rowe chuckled and shook his head. “Amazing. I’m a lucky guy.”
Jancie’s giggles broke her concentration. She lowered the orb to the ground, detonating it as Neala had taught her. “If you hadn’t made me laugh, I was going to try to throw it.” She nestled under his arm against the trunk of a yellow-leaved sugar maple. The soft flannel of a new casual shirt he’d purchased to fit in with the locals brushed against her cheek.
Neala stood and stretched. “It’ll come soon. You still have two more days to practice before Mabon. And practice you must. Adara will be an expert at hurling power fueled by her north wind. She will challenge your command of the clouds.”
“That doesn’t seem like nearly enough time,” Jancie said as she and Rowe followed the chieftainess into her house.
“If you stress over time, your practice will be to waste.” Neala washed her hands in the kitchen sink. “Why don’t you take time off after lunch? Be mindless and mindful.”
Jancie struggled with the sage advice of her mentor. Since the onset of her mother’s cancer, Jancie had forgotten how to enjoy doing nothing. She and Rowe took a small buggy out by themselves to explore New Wish. They pulled up at an art fair among a cluster of cabins and strolled through the wares. Jancie couldn’t help but imagine the future when she and Rowe would gather fall apples from his family’s place and take turns stirring a pot of simmering apple butter. Or when she’d make crazy quilts for each of their children like her mother had made for her. Or the herbal sachets she’d make for all of her new friends. Her mind raced with so many things to fit into her future. And then zipped back to all the lessons she’d learned in the past few days. Her head ached with all the details and plans.
Rowe squeezed her hand and kissed the side of her head. “Relax. Be mindless and mindful.”
***
On Sunday morning, the day marking the autumn equinox and the pagan holiday of Mabon, Jancie packed her bag and carried it down the creaky stairs. The smell of pancakes and the happy faces of Starla, Vika, and Neala cooking greeted her. “Mmm. I’m hungry.” Jancie dropped her bag by the front door and nosed into the small kitchen.
Aunt Starla shot her a grin. “It’s a good sign you have an appetite. Shows you’re not full of nerves,” I sure would be.” She handed Jancie a plate with a tall stack from the hot skillet. “Will four flapjacks do you?”
“Mmm. Yes.” Jancie took a seat at the table, smothered them with maple syrup made locally, and dug in.
Cerise poked her head around the edge of the front door. “Hello. I see I’m in time for breakfast.”
“Look at you. So comfortable and relaxed,” Vika said, smiling.
Cerise spun around to model her casual look of jeans and a hand-knit sweater, her hair pulled back in a stubby ponytail. “My boys won’t recognize me.” She grinned at Vika. “It’s been fun to take a break from the polished Thirties look we wear in the Hollow.”
“Don’t bother me none.” Vika chuckled and stepped beside the younger witch, displaying her own handmade Fair Isle cardigan over a full skirt. “I wear what’s comfortable, but I’m old and no one gives a care.”
A whooshing sounded in the fireplace. Neala and Jancie found Rowe opening the chimney flue.
Hazel’s blue light filled the center of the sitting room, whipping around a thin object.
Rowe touched the light. “Mother, we’re going home today. Will I see you there?”
The light encircled him for a moment and moved on to Jancie. Hazel deposited the object she carried into Jancie’s hand and retreated. It was a tapered length of wood, about twelve inches long and satiny smooth against Jancie’s fingers.
Jancie’s powers crept out along the polished wood. She glanced up with a smile.
Neala clasped her hands together. “A wand of hazel wood, the best kind to channel south wind fire. Thank you, Hazel dear.”
“Thank you so much!” Jancie said, not sure whether the spirit could hear her. To be certain, she extended the wand tip into the blue vapor, balancing it in her open palm to not transmit too much energy.
Hazel surrounded Jancie and with a faint voice said, “No, I am thanking you for saving my son.”
Cerise put a shopping bag on a chair beside Jancie. “This seems to be an appropriate time for gifts.” She pulled out a large item wrapped in tissue paper. “While you’ve been busy with Neala’s lessons, the four of us Bentbone gals made you a special mask for tonight’s Mabon ceremony. We used colors of the south wind. Most coven members will wear masks, except for hedge witches who may choose to attend just as spectators. The masks are to honor the Harvest Man and Harvest Queen at the equinox.” She pulled off the wrapping and handed it to Jancie.
Jancie gaped. “This is amazing. Thank you all.” Three-point deer antlers extended from the mask’s upper edge. Red, orange, and gold leaves radiated from the two eyeholes, continuing onto the cheeks, forehead, and ears. Thick leather formed the foundation of the mask and soft felt lined the inside. “Can I try it on now?”
“Yes. Let me help you.” Cerise moved behind Jancie and helped tie two leather throngs at the back of her head.
Looking through the mask, Jancie sensed her own power spark. The mask also reminded her that the standoff against Adara would become a reality tonight. No longer in the distant future, a pang of self-doubt crept over her.
Neala drew a hand to her mouth. “Jancie, you are so beautiful in that mask. I wish we used masks here. They are lovely. And a good thing to keep your identity a secret tonight.”
“I guessed right!” Rachelle called as she ran down the stairs. “The outer leaves match your hair.”
Jancie laughed. “Well, if my new magic skills don’t work for me, I can just stand there and overwhelm Adara with my mask.”
“That’d be enough to stop me cold.” Rowe gave her a wink and moved toward the kitchen. “I hate to spoil this fashion show, but we need to leave within the hour.”
Jancie stored the mask and hugged each of the four women, saving a special hug for Neala.
The chieftainess rubbed Jancie’s back. “Be careful tonight. Mabon’s a time when the veil between seen and unseen is thinnest. Rely on your intuition.”
“I will,” Jancie replied. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t need to. Your mother was a dear friend.” Neala blinked back tears. “It was my gift to both her and you. Just be sure you come back and visit.”
“Yes, I sure will.” Jancie finished her breakfast and found her way outside, giving her wand a few tests. While staring at it and clenching her teeth, she forced her power into the tip and sent an arc of light to the ground. Successful but not smooth and sure as she’d like. With a sigh, she took a final look around Neala’s yard, inhaling the smells of the plants, the same
Mom had kept in her garden.
***
The last sliver of a crescent moon had long since set on Coon Hollow. Her mask tied securely and wand in hand, Jancie sat still and stiff in Rowe’s passenger seat as he drove. Since her own clothing would stand out, she wore one of Cerise’s long gowns. The gold satin bias cut dress clung to her like a second skin. A matching length of the fabric used as a wrap did little to keep her warm in the sleeveless and backless dress. At least the draped neckline partly covered the moonstone. She borrowed a pair of flat gold sandals from Rachelle. Although not in line with Thirties styles, they were better to run in than Jancie’s pumps she wore to work.
Rowe dressed in a fine black pinstriped suit with a double-breasted jacket, a boutonniere of gold leaves tucked in one lapel. Gold cuff links decorated his white starched shirt. A black fedora sat above his sleek, low ponytail. His half mask of the same leaves sat on the seat beside him. He looked handsome enough she’d normally be distracted with thoughts of how to get closer to him. Tonight, those emotions were buried.
She checked her watch. Nine-thirty, an hour until the autumn equinox. She remembered Neala’s words: When the veil between the seen and unseen is the thinnest. Jancie loosened her grip on her wand to cool her sweaty palm.
Cerise sat in the backseat, prepared to serve as Jancie’s escort into the ceremony. She wore a tea-length dress of olive green and a mask in shades of greens and watery blues.
Rowe parked in the lot of the Coon Hollow school building. The old limestone structure, no larger than Jancie’s neighborhood elementary, had a small gymnasium on one end. The windows stared at Jancie as if they knew her secret identity. Rowe faced her. “If we enter together, someone might determine who you are. You two go in first, and I’ll follow later. Jancie, look for Adara to wear black and dark blue, the north wind’s colors.” At least thirty cars were already parked, including Adara’s Packard. A dozen more turned in as Jancie and Cerise made their way through wide double doors into the gym, while Rowe remained in his car.
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