by Isobel Bird
Doing the ritual for Kate’s aunt the night before had helped. She hadn’t been sure that she’d be able to do it. The idea of going into a hospital where someone was dying—where lots of people were probably dying—had frightened her. But standing there in the circle, her hands linked with those of Thatcher and Robin, she’d felt herself letting go of some of her sadness and fear. Although the ritual had been for Kate’s aunt, she had drawn strength from it as well. She’d seen that the circle didn’t have to disappear just because people died or people went away. The love they left behind was still there, and she could experience it whenever she thought about them.
Ben was gone. She couldn’t change that. She would never listen to him rant again. But he was still a part of her life, just like her parents were. The gifts he’d given her hadn’t disappeared with him, and no one could take them away from her. He’d taught her how to face her fear of making new friends, and he had shared his story with her. While she would give a lot to see him again, she was comforted by knowing that like everything in nature, he had simply moved on.
“So are we going to see you anymore?” Mrs. Abercrombie asked her.
Annie looked at the nurse. “Is Monday okay?” she asked.
Mrs. Abercrombie smiled. “You aren’t giving up, then?”
“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Annie replied. “Where there’s one crabby old person there are sure to be more.”
Unexpectedly, the nurse hugged her. “I’m glad you’re staying,” she said. “You have a good heart. Not many people would have kept trying with old Ben.”
Annie didn’t know what to say. She had never felt she was doing something brave. In fact, she’d been terrified most of the time. But she knew she had to keep going to Shady Hills. It had changed her life already, and she had a feeling there was more for her to learn there.
The two of them walked back to Mrs. Aber-crombie’s car and got in. As they drove out of the cemetery Annie looked back at Ben’s grave. I’ll come visit you, she said silently. I promise.
“Could you drop me off at the hospital?” Annie asked. “I have to meet a friend there.”
The nurse was happy to oblige, and drove Annie to the visitors’ entrance. As Annie got out, Mrs. Abercrombie reached into the backseat.
“I almost forgot,” she said. “This is for you.”
“What is it?” asked Annie, taking the small package and looking at it.
“Some things Ben wanted you to have,” the nurse replied. “Oddly enough, he left a note in his dresser saying that if anything happened to him you should get these.”
The nurse drove away, leaving Annie standing there looking at the package. She was almost afraid to open it. Tentatively, she looked inside the bag and pulled out two items. One was the picture of Ben and Tad. As she gazed at it she felt herself starting to cry again, so she quickly put it back in the bag and looked at the other thing that was in there.
It was a little book. The cover was faded, and it had been taped together many times. Annie gingerly lifted the cover to see what it was. On the first page was a stained piece of paper, yellowed with age and covered in faded writing.
“Ethel’s Blueberry Pie,” she read.
It was Ben’s recipe book. Annie couldn’t believe it. She turned the pages carefully, looking at each one in wonder. There were recipes for all kinds of pies, cakes, and cookies. Each one had notations in various inks and handwritings, as each subsequent cook had added her or his comments and suggestions like “more sugar” or “use only fresh lemons.” Which ones were Ben’s? she wondered.
She held the book in her hands. It was such a treasure, and Ben had left it for her. She was overcome with emotion as she thought about what it had meant to him, and now to her. She couldn’t wait to take it home and read it from cover to cover. Even more, she couldn’t wait to try the recipes.
She walked into the hospital and went to the third floor. She found Kate in her aunt’s room, sitting in a chair and watching Netty as she slept.
“Hey,” Annie said. “How is everything?”
Kate came into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. “Mom is with the doctor now,” Kate said. “They ran some more tests and she’s got the results. They didn’t want to wake Aunt Netty up, so they’re down the hall.”
“Have your parents said anything more about the ritual?”
Kate shook her head. “I think they’d rather not know too much,” she said. “I suppose that conversation is coming, but not right now. Kyle’s been the worst. He has a crush on Robin.”
Annie rolled her eyes. Then she noticed Mrs. Morgan coming down the hall, and she said, “Here comes your mom.”
Kate’s mother walked up to them.
“Well?” Kate asked.
“There are still spots on the bones,” Mrs. Morgan said.
Kate groaned, but her mother held up her hand. “That’s not all,” she said.
Kate looked at her, waiting for the rest of the bad news.
“The cancer,” her mother said, “hasn’t spread any farther. Plus, Netty’s system seems to be fighting the cancer more efficiently than it has been. Her white blood cell count is down, which means the new treatment has slowed the rate at which the cancerous cells are spreading.”
“So it’s good news?” Kate said, needing reassurance.
“Yes,” her mother said. “Dr. Pedersen said it’s as if her body decided to wake up and start fighting. There are no guarantees, and she could just as easily start getting worse again, but for now she’s doing better.”
Kate gave a little hop. “I knew it would help!” she said excitedly.
Her mother looked at her and Annie and didn’t say anything. Kate wondered what she was thinking. Did she believe that the ritual had done anything to help Netty? Did she think it was all just coincidence? Kate wanted to ask her, but she knew she wouldn’t. For the moment the subject was closed. But that didn’t stop Kate from being so happy she could burst.
“Come on,” she said, taking her mother’s hand. “Let’s go tell Aunt Netty the good news.”
Later that night, the three friends sat in Annie’s room eating pieces of blueberry pie. Annie had taken it out of the oven only half an hour before, and it was still warm and dripping with juice. She had put vanilla ice cream on top, and it had melted over the sides of the pie, mingling with the blueberries.
“This is just about the most amazing thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” Cooper said, taking a big bite.
“It’s like eating summer,” Kate added, licking her fork.
“Not bad,” Annie said critically. “I think it needs a little lemon juice next time.”
They ate silently for a few minutes. Then Kate put down her plate and said, “This has been a wild couple of weeks.”
“You’re telling me,” Cooper agreed. “I got a boyfriend, Annie lost Ben, and you sort of told your parents about being into Wicca.”
“I didn’t quite tell them that,” Kate said. “And by the way, they think you’re kind of weird.”
“What else is new?” said Cooper.
“It’s like we all got our challenges at the same time,” commented Annie.
“And we all met them head-on,” said Cooper. “Or at least from the side on.”
“The point is that we did it,” Kate remarked.
“So what happens now?” Annie asked, voicing the question they all were thinking. “Cooper, are you going to come back to the class?”
Cooper nodded, her mouth full of pie. “Ifm pttm trbckup,” she said.
“What?” Kate asked.
“I said, I put my altar back up,” Cooper repeated more clearly. “Pele and I had a little talk. I don’t think we’ll have any more problems. And I talked to Sophia and she said I can come back to class.”
“What about T.J.?” Annie asked her. “Kate said you told him.”
“Yeah,” answered Cooper. “We haven’t had a real in-depth talk about it, but he seems cool. To tell the truth, I
think it turns him on knowing he’s kissing a sort-of witch.”
“I wish the idea of witchcraft turned my parents on,” Kate said. “I’m not looking forward to that little chat.”
“Do you guys realize our year and a day is one third over already?” Annie said, counting the months off on her fingers.
“That went fast,” said Cooper. “It feels like it was just last week that Kate came running to us asking for help.”
“I did not come running,” said Kate indignantly.
“Yes, you did,” Annie teased.
“Okay,” Kate admitted. “Maybe a little. But if it weren’t for me and that spell, we wouldn’t be sitting here now. So you have me to thank for this pie.”
“All hail the witch queen,” said Cooper dramatically, pretending to bow to Kate.
“Seriously,” Annie said. “We’ve come a long way. I’m really proud of us.”
“Me, too,” added Kate after a moment. “We’ve been through some weird stuff.”
“And some cool stuff,” Cooper reminded her. “With the exception of my one horrible blind date with the faeries.”
“What do you think will happen next?” asked Annie.
They all thought about it for a few moments.
“We could ask the Tarot cards,” Kate suggested.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Annie said. “I don’t think we’re supposed to know that much.”
“I don’t want to know anyway,” Cooper said. “It takes all the fun out of it.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be good,” said Annie confidently.
“Not as good as this pie,” Cooper said, looking at her plate wistfully. “Is there any more?”
Kate and Annie threw pillows at her. Cooper picked them up and threw them back. Moments later the three of them were on their feet, swinging pillows at one another and laughing so much that it hurt.
Follow the
with Book 7:
Blue Moon
Kate, Annie, and Cooper picked up the food containers and plates and took them down to the kitchen. Then Annie walked her friends to the door and said good night. Afterward she went back to her room and threw herself on the bed.
“Well, that was a lot of fun,” she said aloud. “Eight o’clock on a Friday night and here I am by myself.”
She was annoyed. She’d been hoping for a night of fun with her friends. A night like they usually had when they got together. But lately those nights had been few and far between. Kate and Cooper always seemed to have more important things to do. Even Annie’s aunt and little sister had plans for the evening, going to a movie together so that Annie, Kate, and Cooper could have the house to themselves. But now there was no point to that. Annie was alone, and with nothing to do.
Even her plans for a blue moon ritual had been shot down. That was something she’d been looking forward to. She’d been sure that Cooper and Kate would want to do it, too. But they didn’t. They had more important things to do—things that didn’t include her.
So do it yourself, she told herself. Why do you need them?
“Because we’re a team,” she said, as if she were really arguing with herself. “We’re supposed to do things together. That’s the whole point.”
But Kate and Cooper didn’t seem too worried about doing things together. They were making all kinds of plans that didn’t include her. Plans with their boyfriends. Maybe it was time she started doing the same thing. But I can’t do that, she thought. Then she paused. Or could I?
Making Your Own Goddess
Many people interested in Wicca find that they would like to have some representation of a particular goddess – a picture or statue – that they can hang up or put on an altar or elsewhere in the home for inspiration. While you can purchase such statues and images at many stores or through websites, it may be more satisfying (and cheaper!) to make your own. Also, if you want something to represent a particular deity, you might find it difficult to find a pre-made one that you really love.
I like to make my own goddess statues out of salt dough. Many people have used salt dough to make things like Christmas ornaments and other decorations. Well, you can also use it to make images of any goddess you want to! (Of course you can also make a salt dough god, but I’ll use the word goddess here.)
I think of the process of making a salt dough goddess as being a kind of ritual. After all, it involves the four elements of earth (the flour), water (the water), fire (the oven), and air (inspiration and kneading). It also celebrates the gift of creativity, and in the end you have a wonderful object to use in your other rituals and celebrations. So as you make your goddess, do it with a spirit of fun, but remember that you’re also doing a kind of magic. Do whatever you like to make it feel like an act of creation. Play music. Light candles. Sing. Dance. Make it a special event.
Before you begin, decide which goddess you want to make a statue of. If you want to, find pictures of the goddess you’re interested in and note any details you want to add to your statue, like facial features, jewelry, or symbols. Or just make up your own based on what a goddess means to you. It doesn’t really matter. But if your goddess has any particularly interesting physical attributes, it can be fun to work those into your statue.
Once you’ve decided what kind of statue you want to make, you have to make your dough. The following recipe makes enough dough to form a very round statue about six inches high and five inches wide. You can use the same proportions to make more or less dough, depending on the size of the statue you want.
3 cups flour
3 cups salt (coarse Kosher salt works best)
: to 1 cup water
Mix the flour and salt together in a bowl, using your hands. Add the water gradually, starting with about two cups. Mix it into the flour and salt until you have a nice firm dough that you can work easily without it sticking too much to your hands. You might use more or less water, depending on your flour and on the humidity in the room in which you’re working. The important thing is to add only a little at a time. If you add too much and your dough becomes too sticky, simply add a little more flour.
Once your dough is formed, turn it onto a hard surface and knead it until it’s good and workable. If it dries and cracks while you’re working it, add a little more water and knead it in. The dough should be elastic enough to form into shapes, and not so soft that it just flattens out when you try to form something.
When your dough is ready to work, form it into any shape you like. It can be shaped into almost anything. I prefer to start with one big lump of dough and mold it into a shape, rather than trying to make individual parts and sticking them together, but you can do that too. I find that wooden manicure sticks (the thin wooden sticks used to push back cuticles) work great for forming mouths and eyes and other details.
You can’t really go wrong with this craft. Have fun. Use your imagination and let whatever deity you’re working with work through you. You’ll probably find that the dough starts taking shape quickly. Don’t fuss with it too much or it will start to crack. But if you need to, you can wet it a little and smooth out any rough edges.
Once your statue is formed, it needs to dry. You can let it air dry, but this takes forever, and with a thick statue it will probably never really dry. It’s best to bake it. Heat the oven to about 200(infinity)F and set the statue on a piece of tinfoil on a baking sheet. The recommended baking time for thoroughly drying a statue is about an hour for every half-inch of thickness. Once your statue is dry, you can paint it or decorate it or do whatever you want to it. If you want to keep it forever, you’ll have to seal it with varnish made for crafts (ask at a craft store).
I don’t keep my statues forever. I usually keep them on my altar for one cycle of the moon, or for however long I’m working with the particular goddess whose statue I’ve made. Then I return the statue to the earth, either by burying it in the ground or putting it in the ocean (or other body of water) to let it dissolve. Of course, you can d
o whatever you like with your statue.
You don’t only have to make statues, either. If you want to you can make flat tiles with goddess images on them, pendants to wear around your neck, or decorations for a Yule tree or other occasion. The possibilities are as endless as your imagination.
– Isobel Bird
About the Author
Isobel Bird has been involved in the world of paganism and witchcraft for many years. She lives and dances beneath the moon somewhere in New England.
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Credits
Cover art © 2001 by Cliff Nielsen
Cover © 2001 by HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
RING OF LIGHT. Copyright © 2001 by Isobel Bird. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
MAKING YOUR OWN GODDESS. Copyright © 2001 by Isobel Bird.
EPub © Edition AUGUST 2001 ISBN: 9780061756535
Print edition first published in 2001 HarperCollins Publishers
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