A waxing moon didn’t provide enough light. With only one flashlight between them, they stumbled through the grounds until they reached the hawthorn tree by the river. Aishling laid the blanket on a clear patch of dirt underneath the tree, and Morrigan set out the items from the bag on top of it.
“Okay, what do we do now?” Aishling asked.
“We need to draw a circle around us. I wish I had an athame.” Morrigan used the blunt end of the flashlight and inscribed a circle in the dirt surrounding their blanket. Next, she poured grape juice into two of the plastic cups. “We each sip some of the grape juice in our own cup, then we pour what’s left into this cup.” She held up the third cup.
An owl hooted close by. They flinched, and then giggled.
“No, no, no, no …”
“What?” Aishling asked.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Oh.” Aishling breathed in the smell of dirt churned up by the flashlight. Clearing her throat first, she drank some juice from her cup as Morrigan did the same. One by one, they poured the rest of their juice into the third cup.
“Now, we state our intentions to each other,” Morrigan said. “I’ll go first. Aishling Bran O’Brian, I, Morrigan Shae MacAuley, am your true friend. I am your soul friend. I will be your friend for life. I am your sister and your protector. I will teach you all I know. You can depend on me through thick or thin. I will never betray you, hurt you, or take advantage of you. So mote it be.” She nodded to Aishling. “Your turn.”
“No, no, no …”
“What?”
“I said it’s your turn,” Morrigan answered. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Aishling looked up into the branches of the hawthorn tree.
“Come on, Aish.”
She listened again, but all was quiet. “Okay. Morrigan Shae MacAuley, I, Aishling Bran O’Brian, am your true, soul friend for life. You can always depend on me to help you, and be there for you through thick or thin. I am your sister, your protector. I will teach you all I know. I will never hurt you, desert you, or betray you. So mote it be.”
“Now, we both drink from this third cup.” Morrigan drank first and passed the cup to her. While she drank, Morrigan lit a candle. “You light a candle too.”
After both candles were lit, Morrigan lifted the unlit one, saying, “This third candle represents the spirit of our joined friendship. When it is lit by both our candles, its glow will show the world and all the other realms we are on the same journey and will support each other throughout this journey. We both should light it at the same time using our own candle. We’ll say together: By this candle I am bound to you as your soul friend, your anamchara.” They moved in unison lighting the third candle, repeating their pledge, and extinguishing the other two candles.
Morrigan held up the third candle again and said, “Repeat these words exactly as I say them. This will complete our pledge to each other. Ready?” Aishling nodded. “All my wisdom and all my secrets I will share with you.”
“No, no, no …”
Aishling stopped breathing and listened intently.
Morrigan stared at her. “Aish!”
“All my wisdom and all my secrets I will share with you.”
“For as long as I live, until we meet in the next life. So mote it be.”
“For as long as I live, until we meet in the next life. So mote it be.”
Morrigan blew out the last candle. “We did it. You are my raven, just as the Morrigan of old had her raven familiar.”
Although she hugged Morri, something didn’t feel right. Maybe it was Morri’s last statement. Or maybe it was the whispers she had heard from the hawthorn tree. But her uneasiness fleeted, replaced by happiness at the realization she now had a soul friend and sister by heart. “So, anamchara means soul friend?”
“Yes. Now, we give each other our gifts. Me first.” Morrigan picked up a gift and handed it to Aishling. “I know you’ll like it.”
Smiling, she carefully removed the brown wrapping paper. “Oh, it looks like your diary.”
“It just looks like it, but it’s a new one for you.”
“How did you manage to get it?”
“Open it up to the first page.”
When Aishling did, she shined the flashlight on it and frowned. A maze covered the page. “What does it mean?”
“Don’t worry. It’s just a maze spell. It won’t hurt anyone.” Morrigan smiled. “If someone other than you or I pick it up, the diary will open to the maze. No matter how much someone wants to turn the page, they won’t be able to. Their eyes will be captured by the maze. You and I are the only ones who can release anyone from the spell. See, it won’t hurt anyone. But, you’ll always know who has tried to read it. Wasn’t that clever of me?” Morrigan tapped her hands together.
I don’t know. Aishling had seen a maze spell once on the front of her grandmother’s grimoire. Her mother had warned her never to stare at it. In fact, her mother had been so concerned, she had glued a thick piece of purple cloth on top of the maze. “Are you sure it won’t hurt anyone?”
“Positive. I’m the one who did the spell, silly.”
“How do you know how to do these things, Morri?”
“My mother taught me a lot after I had my Naming Ceremony. Didn’t your mother teach you more after yours?”
“I never had it because of the fire. We were planning it for the next Twelfth Night, but she disappeared …”
“It doesn’t matter. Remember our pledge to teach each other what we know? I have a lot I can teach you.”
Aishling nodded and picked up her gift for Morrigan. “Well, I made this for you. At least I remembered how to do something.”
Morrigan ripped off the paper. “A knot charm bracelet. What charms did you tie into it?”
“Love, protection, friendship, joy, and healing.”
Morrigan stared at the bracelet, then, “Thank you, my raven.”
Friday, March 22
“Good afternoon, Aishling. My, you look happy today,” said Mrs. Dawes.
“Thank you.”
“I’ve some good news for you. The couple I told you about before will be here a week from tomorrow.” She smiled and nodded. “They thought they would meet you first then take you to lunch.”
“Oh.” She had forgotten. “I don’t know if I’m ready, Mrs. Dawes.”
“I think you will be. You’re looking much better these days. I’m pleased with how you’ve opened up and made a new friend. Even your demeanor has improved over the last couple of weeks. You’ll be fine.”
“Oh.” Before saying anything else, she mentally ticked off Morri’s directions—Talk politely, smile, and make her think she’s wonderful. She’ll give you a lot more information that way. Also, take control of the conversation.
“Mrs. Dawes, since you think I’m doing so well, I wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“What did you want to ask?” She clasped her hands on top of her desk.
“Well, first I wanted to tell you I’ve stopped blaming everyone for what happened. I realize how much you’ve done for me. Thank you for being so patient.” What was her next line? “Also, I understand how hard you’ve worked to find a home for me. I know you want to help me get adopted.”
“I’m glad to hear it. So, what are your questions?”
Aishling cleared her throat several times and faked a cough. How was she supposed to start?
“Child, what did you want to ask?”
“I wondered about my home. I didn’t see it after the fire. Did it burn down?”
“No, if I remember the report correctly. Why?”
“Well, does that mean it still belongs to me?”
“Oh, I see. Yes. But, it is in trust with the State of North Carolina.”
“Does that mean the state also controls my belongings, anything that was left or anything I brought here with me?”
Mrs. Dawes scrunched up her eyes. “The state is in control, yes. W
hy?”
“Since I might be going somewhere else soon, I wanted to go through my personal stuff.”
“Just what do you think the state has that belongs to you?”
“Pictures, books, letters, stuff like that.”
“Anything that survived the fire will be in safe-keeping until you’re of age.”
Tensing, Aishling grabbed the seat of her chair. “What about the stuff you took from me when I came here? Since you have that here, I’d like to look at it. Isn’t that my right?” Sitting up straight, she willed herself to stay calm and in control. She had practiced this again and again with Morri.
“I have told you before, we’re concerned about giving those items to you. There are things your mother was involved in that might not be good for you to delve into.”
Prying a smile on her face first, Aishling then said, “But, those are my things.”
She held her breath as Mrs. Dawes picked up a pencil and fiddled with it. “Aishling, I’m afraid I cannot give you those items yet. This would be a big step. I want to make sure first that you are ready for it.”
Trying to restrain the jitters taking control of her body, she mentally repeated the other things Morri had said—Remember, if she doesn’t agree with you, stay calm and control her. Tell her that legally she cannot keep those things from you.
She forced herself to speak calmly. “Mrs. Dawes, it is my legal right to have possession of my own things.”
“And, it is my legal responsibility to look out for your welfare. As I have told you before, we want to make sure you are mentally fit first. I would need to discuss this with Preacher Collins. Even then, there will be things you don’t need to see, at least until you reach maturity.”
She began pinching her right wrist. “Why? Why do you need to ask the preacher? I want my things, now!”
“See, this is exactly why I know you’re not ready.” Mrs. Dawes pushed her glasses up and cleared her throat. “No. If you—”
“I’ll report you to the state.” She gripped the edge of the desk.
“You may do so if you like, but it will not do you any good.”
“I want my things!”
“No.”
Return to Beginning
deceits and betrayals,
8
“They won’t let me, Morri. I’m not staying here any longer. I don’t care if they try to stop me. I’m leaving.” Still upset after her encounter with Mrs. Dawes, Aishling smashed the tears off her cheeks. She sank to her bed, her heart racing. The top of her right wrist was red and irritated. Had she done that?
“Calm down.” Morrigan came over and patted her back. “We’ll figure out how to get your things.” Aishling wildly shook her head. “I promise. But we can’t leave yet.”
“Why won’t they give me my things? They’re mine!”
“Tell me again what she said about your mother.”
“She said there were things Ma had been involved with that might not be good for me, and she wanted to make sure I was either mentally ready or had reached maturity.” Aishling pitched backwards onto her bed and glared at the ceiling.
“You told her it’s your legal right?”
“Yes.”
“You told her you would report her to the state?”
“Yes, Morri, like we practiced!”
“Don’t get upset with me. I’m trying to help you.” Morrigan paced.
“I’m sorry.”
“There has to be a reason why. There must be something unusual about your stuff.”
“Let’s just leave this place.”
“No. I’m absolutely positive your things have clues for us. And I know the Suti Stone is either in your amulet or with your other stuff. I’ll figure out a way to get it.”
“Oh, it’s probably just an old rumor about that stone, anyway. I’ve never heard of a stone powerful enough to bring someone back from the dead.” She sat up and shrugged.
Morrigan jerked around. “Are you saying my mother is a liar?”
Recoiling from the look on Morrigan’s face, she answered, “No. I wasn’t saying anything bad about your mother. I meant that I had never heard of the Suti Stone before, and maybe what your mother had heard was a rumor.” She stood. “Please don’t be mad at me. That’s not what I meant.”
Morrigan went to her desk and took out her diary. “We’ll figure something out. But, promise me you won’t run off without me.”
Aishling nodded.
“And, promise me you won’t bug me about it. We’re anamchara now. You have to be honest with me, and we have to do things together. Now, promise.”
“I promise.” She crossed her heart with her left forefinger.
*******
This diary belongs to Aishling Bran O’Brian
March 29, 1991
This is my first time writing in this diary, my soul friend gift from Morri. But it feels strange, like it’s not really my diary.
It’s been a week since I asked for my things back, and Mrs. Dawes hasn’t said anything. Morri hasn’t either. It’s like the whole thing never happened. Whenever I try talking to Morri about it, she says, “You promised.” And, she spends all her free time talking to Lance.
Today, Mrs. Dawes talked and talked about what to say and how to act around those new people. Blah, blah, blah. But when I asked again about getting my things, she ignored me.
I had a strange dream last night, too. It was a “hearing” dream. I haven’t had many of them. Ma told me before that I should be careful with these dreams because it might be someone using dark magick to make me do something. This dream was confusing, too.
In the first part, I heard, “Be aware of a person’s actions more than their words. When you get your amulet, you must keep it on you at all times. Don’t let anyone else know.” In the second part, I heard, “Follow my Morrigan. She’ll help you. Let her keep your amulet safe for you.” Both messages and voices were different, like listening to two different people. I don’t think I should tell Morri. But, how am I going to get my amulet without her help? And how am I going to hide it from her?
*******
9
Saturday, March 30
Morrigan sat up in bed, stretching. “Saturday, already? Doesn’t it seem like time is speeding by? What do you want to do today?”
Still lying in bed, Aishling grumbled, “I don’t know.” She turned over, leaving her back to Morrigan.
“What’s the matter?”
“You know. And if you don’t, you should.”
“Well, I haven’t figured out everything yet.”
She flipped back toward Morrigan. “You said we’d figure it out together. But whenever I try talking to you, you either shake your head or you run off to Lance.”
“Are you jealous?”
Aishling sat up, huffing. “No! I just want to get my things and leave.”
“All right, Miss Impatient, we’ll talk about it after breakfast. You won’t have to worry about me talking to Lance today, either. He’s going on a ‘get-to-know-you’ weekend,” Morrigan said, making quotation marks with her fingers. She dropped her hands. “And, for your information, talking to Lance has given me some ideas for getting away from this dreadful place.” She made an exaggerated grin then frowned. “Gee, I hope Lance doesn’t get placed yet.”
“How would I know you were coming up with ideas? You didn’t tell me.” Aishling got out of bed. “Why wouldn’t you want him to be happy?”
“It just so happens, Lance doesn’t want to be placed. He told me so … in confidence. He’s been trying to get in touch with an old friend of his parents. Lance wants him, Redhawk,—I think that’s his name—to foster him. But, everyone is ignoring him.”
Morrigan smiled. “He’s so cool, Aish. Did you know he and his parents have walked parts of the Appalachian Trail before?”
“How would I know that?” she said while making her bed.
“Oh, don’t be smart with me. See, I think you are jealous.”
/> “For the last time, Morri, I’m not jealous. But I thought we would spend more time together this week so we could figure out how to get my stuff and leave. Instead, you spent most of your free time talking to him.”
“Will you stop complaining and listen. Lance told me he brought his canoe and camping gear here, and it’s stored in that shed by the river. I’ve been talking to him, Miss Impatient, to find out more about his canoe and if he knew where that river went from here. See? I’ve been doing investigative work this week.” Morrigan climbed out of bed and dressed.
“I’m sorry. I guess I am impatient. But, I’m supposed to meet a couple today, too. That’s all Mrs. Dawes talked about yesterday—how I should act so I’ll be fostered.”
“No!” Morrigan threw down her shoes. “You’ve got to make them not want you. You’ve got to. We have to get your stuff. And … and, I couldn’t stand it if you got placed and left me behind.”
“Don’t worry. By the time my interview is over, they’ll be running from here.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“I’ll just be my old self. There hasn’t been anyone who wanted me yet. I’m good at scaring people away. Remember?”
“Good. What time is your interview?” Morrigan picked up her shoes and sat on her bed.
“Eleven.”
“After you’ve run them off, we’ll plan.”
Kelile leaped out of the bushes in front of Aishling. “Caught ya.” He snickered.
She jumped and swiped at him. “You scared me, you ding dong. How long have you been hiding there?”
“The whole time you’ve been on the picnic bench with your new potentials.” He shook his head. “Girl, I guess you didn’t want them to like you.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You even scared me with your crazy talk. I started wondering: Hmm, maybe I don’t know this girl very well.” He grinned.
Dead Moon Awakens: A tale of Cherokee myth and Celtic magic (Mystic Gates) Page 4