November had a lovely rhythm at Anona’s. There was no onslaught of Christmas commercials or impending exams to ensure a frenzied state of being. November settled into a beautiful, quiet gray that spread over the land, water, and sky. It was as if the whole of nature decided to take a month and fill it with tea and reading favorite books. It fit quite nicely with the schedule of eat, read, eat, read, eat, sleep that Anona had laid out for Mirabelle.
November 10th, Mirabelle had her appointment with the Seer. She was nervous. The same anxiety that had flown through her veins when she took the ACT and SAT now settled in her stomach, causing her to eat sparingly all day. The meeting wasn’t until 7 pm, so she had hours to stew in her nervousness. Anona promised that afterwards they could walk around South Street and get Philly Cheese Steaks from Jim’s, so Mirabelle was looking forward to that.
“Here we are!” Anona announced, parking on a quiet residential street of row homes, all decorated with Christmas lights a little early.
“I thought you said Dottie had a shop? I don’t see anything commercial.” Mirabelle peered down the block. Anona pointed to a white house with a small, red “OPEN” sign glowing in the window. The overpowering Christmas lights had camouflaged it.
“The shop is in her living room. Neighbors don’t mind.” Anona opened her door, letting a strong gust of wind whip through the car. “Let’s go!” Mirabelle wrapped her scarf a little tighter, took a deep breath, and followed Anona to the open sign.
Knowing the door was open, Anona pushed right in and slipped her boots off. Mirabelle trailed behind her, knocking into one of the wind chimes that hung in the threshold. Well, that was a good start.
The interior was surprising. There were six big, round tables in the center of the room covered in crystals, cards, stones, and dried herbs. The walls were bookcases, overflowing with books of all sizes. Some looked like they were printed last week, others like they had been handwritten in the Dark Ages and passed down through the generations. Wind chimes hung from the ceiling inside as well, gently clinking from the sudden gust of wind that blew from the open door.
“Anona and Mirabelle, welcome.” Mirabelle blinked at the woman who entered. This was Dottie?! She looked like an elementary school librarian. Her gray hair was tied back in a neat bun, pulled away from her cat-eye reading glasses. She wore a brightly patterned purple and yellow cardigan, as well as a knee length gray wool skirt.
“I know,” Dottie continued, “I hardly look the part of Seer-witch. But, I always say, wear what’s comfortable.” She sat at a small table in the corner and motioned for Mirabelle to join her.
“It’s nice to see you, Dottie,” Anona said, pressing a light kiss on her cheek.
“It is always good to see you, Anona. I hope you are enjoying spending time with that nice vegetable farmer. What a treat he is!” Anona’s face turned red. “Must be important if I saw it!” Dottie laughed, her eyes twinkling.
Was this middle-aged woman going to see all her dating exploits? Mirabelle wondered. Hopefully, not.
“All right, Mirabelle. Let’s try to figure you out.” Dottie pulled out two decks of cards and two velvet bags. “Pick one deck and one bag. Take your time, listen to what your soul tells you.”
Mirabelle tentatively reached her hands out and let them hover each deck. At first, she felt nothing. Eventually, though, a steady warming grew under her right hand, which she took as a sign. She switched to the bags. One was the most beautiful forest green; the other red. Mirabelle hated the color red. That was enough of a sign for her.
“This deck and this bag,” she said handing each to Dottie.
“Very interesting. The Goddess Cards and the Runes.” Dottie began shuffling the cards.
“What were the other ones?” Mirabelle questioned, peering at the two discarded tools.
“Not to be concerned with today.” Dottie set the stack of cards in front of Mirabelle. “What is your favorite number? And before you answer, it’s more than just a favorite. What number is your number?”
“Five.” Mirabelle answered without hesitation. Her birthday was May 5, and she was born at 5:55 am. There really was no denying it; five was her number.
“Cut the deck once, then hand it back to me.” As Mirabelle cut the deck, one of the cards went flying off the table. Dottie collected it.
“A jumper! This one is special. We’ll look at it last.” She took the cards back from Mirabelle and began her reading. She flipped the first card.
“The Butterfly Maiden. Well, this makes sense. She’s a transforming power. She symbolizes change and releasing the old portion of your life to make way for the new.” Dottie set the card on the table. “Let’s see what’s next.” Mirabelle started to relax. If the cards were only going to tell her things she already knew, there was no need to be nervous.
“Sekhmet.” Anona gasped.
“Is that bad?” Mirabelle’s nervousness flooded back. “Is like the death card?!”
“No, no,” Dottie soothed. “But she is very strong power; in Egyptian mythology, Sekhmet is the Goddess of Destruction.”
“That sounds bad,” Mirabelle looked up at Anona, whose face was pale.
“I don’t think of Sekhmet as foretelling destruction. Instead, look at this as a warning. She’s telling you to build up your strength, because you are going to need it. If this was a normal reading, I would tell my client to start exercising. You may want to try to foster your witchhood a little more quickly than you originally anticipated.” She set Sekhmet next to the Butterfly Maiden. They were an odd pair.
“Freyja!” Dottie smiled. Anona’s face relaxed and a smile broke out across her face. “Be bold! Be unafraid of your sexual prowess, and appreciate who you are. She’s a fun card to get. She’s the confident, fun-loving girl of the Goddesses.” Mirabelle smiled. After Sekhmet, it was nice to get a “fun” card.
“Yemanya. Interesting, she is rarely pulled, at least from this deck. She’s telling you not to hesitate with this new life. Step forward, this is the right path. And our last card,” Dottie flipped it over. “Guinevere. True love. You will be with the love of your life very soon. That’s exciting. Keep an eye out.” Dottie winked. She reached to that random jumping card and laughed as she flipped it.
“Obviously, Rhiannon, the sorceress, couldn’t be left out of a witch’s first card reading. She wanted to say hi.”
“So what does it all mean?” Mirabelle asked as Dottie reached for the bag of runes.
“Well, obviously there is a big change happening, but at the same time, there’s also one that is still coming, which I interpret to mean you learning what type of witch you are. You are going to need strength to get through whatever is coming, and I am not sure if you will meet the love of your life during this time, or if you need him to help you through it. Let’s see what the runes have to say.” Dottie shook the bag. “Pick five you are drawn to, not the first five you touch.”
Mirabelle placed her hand in the bag, half-afraid of it being bitten off. She pushed her fingers through the cool stones, barely feeling the etched symbols within them. Suddenly, one rune felt like an icicle had been misplaced inside the bag, so she pulled it out. It looked like a wonky lowercase n.
“Uruz.” Dottie said very seriously. “Like Sekhmet, you are going to need strength for your coming trials.” Perfect, now her path was going to have trials on it. She thrust her hand back in, wishing this whole thing was over. The more she heard, the more she was beginning to think coming to Pennsylvania and learning about her witchhood was more than she could take. This time Mirabelle felt one stone and it was as if a jolt shot through her body, straight to her heart. It looked like a less than sign from math class.
“Kenaz.” Anona burst out laughing.
“You might need to get your own place,” Anona said through her laughter.
“What? Why?” Mirabelle looked at both of their smirking grins.
“Kenaz is telling us that you have a great deal of physical passion coming y
our way.” Dottie explained.
“Great, so I am going to be put on a path riddled with trials that I need to build up my strength for, but it’s okay, because I’ll be having great sex the whole time. Perfect.” She reached in the bag again, to find two runes almost adhering to her skin.
“I guess these are next.” She said, trying to shake her hand free of them. They were an X and a less than and greater than sign looking at each other.
“Gebo, just telling us that you have gifts, which we already knew. And Jera. Hm. Jera symbolizes cycles being completed. I would take that to mean that you have specific things to get done, but once they are done, you are done. Cycles usually come in magic numbers, either a year and a day, three years, seven years, nine years… really any multiple of three.”
“Are you saying my trials could last thirty-six years?!” Mirabelle asked.
“Well, they could. More likely it will be shorter than that. Go ahead and pull one more.” This time, Mirabelle felt a stone that was burning so hot she thought her hand was being branded.
“Raido.” It was a funky looking R. “Physical journeys. You are going somewhere. Or…” Dottie trailed off.
“Or what?” Mirabelle prompted.
“Or, you are a Traveler. It’s uncommon and hard to pinpoint, but you could be a Traveler.”
“What is a Traveler?” Mirabelle pushed.
“We can talk about it in the car.” Anona interrupted. “I need a reading before we go.”
“Any preference of the channel?” Dottie asked.
“Goddess cards. I need to know who can help me focus my attention.” Anona switched places with Mirabelle as Dottie shuffled the cards.
“Three, as always.” Anona said, cutting the deck. Dottie flipped three cards.
“Diana. Artemis. Damara.” Anona simply nodded, and stood.
“Thank you for tonight. I told Mirabelle she could buy a few of her own supplies. Can we talk privately while she looks around?” Anona was leaving her? After hearing that Sekhmet had her marked for destruction?!
“Of course. Mirabelle, let me know if you have any questions. We’ll be in the kitchen.” She tried to shake off the dark shadow of the reading, and enjoy looking around. Mirabelle figured the bookcases were a good a place as any to begin her browsing. She was bombarded with titles like A Witch’s Year, Cottage Witchery, and A Kitchen Witch’s Guide to Herbs. They all seemed pretty harmless. As she ran her fingers across the spines, her nail got caught on a skinny book. She pulled it out to look at the title: The Traveler’s Guide to Realms. Well, that seemed like it could be important. Mirabelle tucked the book under her arm, and switched to looking at the tables.
“All set?” Anona said, exiting the kitchen with Dottie close behind.
“Yes. This book, this crystal, and a deck of Goddess Cards. If that adds up to under fifty dollars.” Mirabelle added.
“For you, it will.” Dottie took the crystal and put it in a tiny white box. “Do you know what kind of crystal that is?”
“No, I just liked the way it looked.” The orange stone nearly glowed in the darkened living room, and Mirabelle had felt drawn to it.
“It’s Fire Agate. Meant to be used while meditating on your sacral chakra.” Dottie noticed Mirabelle’s confusion. “Chakras: we’ll get to them eventually. But, your sacral chakra is all about creativity, emotions, and sexuality.” Again?! Mirabelle thought. Apparently she was dripping with sexuality today. Dottie handed her a bag with her items in it, and saw them to the door.
“See you soon, sister witches!” Dottie whispered as they walked back out into the howling wind. Anona and Mirabelle squealed as they ran to the warmth of the car, jumping over the curb on their way. They drove a few miles to South Street for some cheese steaks and distraction. The street was crawling with twenty-somethings, and for a few moments, Mirabelle felt like a normal 18 year old visiting a city with her sister. They wandered in and out of odd shops and Mirabelle found a pair of blue tennis shoes she didn’t need, but they were only ten dollars and she really wanted them. Overall, it was a fun diversion away from fate, magic, and fear of the unknown.
“Are you going to tell me more about being a Traveler?” Mirabelle asked when they were halfway back to the farm.
“To be honest, I know very little about it. I was never really sure if Travelers were witches, or if they were something completely different. Hopefully that book will shed some light.”
“But what do Travelers do?” Mirabelle pressed.
“I’ve only heard rumors, never met one. I’ve heard they can fly, or jump from one realm to another, or teleport, or open portals. I don’t know what’s true. If you can open portals, though, please don’t open any on the farm. The last thing I need is the property crawling with creepies from other lands.” Mirabelle laughed. If she had choose out of that list flying seemed like the most fun.
With renewed interest, Mirabelle tore through Anona’s creatures book. She promised she wouldn’t start reading A Traveler’s Guide to the Realms until she first finished what she was currently reading. Herbology lessons would just have to wait.
She probably should have paid more attention to all the details the creatures’ book laid out about hundreds of otherworldlies, but she could always come back to it for a refresher.
She spent the rest of November learning about every realm this particular author (Johannah Moonrise, a pen name most likely) had visited or heard about from a first hand visitor. First, the realm of the Fae was one realm, with seven different courts. A Traveler could enter from any of the courts, and once there it was possible to travel to different courts. Each courts had separate “entrances and exits” in the human realm, so it was recommended to enter and leave through the same court, if possible.
Some of the realms sounded scary, like the Dragon realm. According to Johannah, who had visited herself for only ten minutes, it was a world governed by all sorts of dragons. Some were fire breathers, other lived in water, some guarded treasures stolen from other realms; the list went on. Johannah had happened upon the Dragon realm accidentally on her way to the Elven realm to do business with a great Elven Healer, Mariposa, who sounded like a mix between Mother Teresa and Kate Moss. Often, Mirabelle found herself so lost in the story, it read like fiction. She had to keep reminding herself that it was, indeed, real.
Diving into the books, tending to the animals, and her day-to-day chores left Mirabelle with little time to worry about Matthew. She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, but thought nothing of it. If he was the True Love she was supposed to be finding, fate would work everything out.
Chapter 8
Anona didn’t do any holiday halfway, and Thanksgiving was no exception. At home, Mirabelle always made crispy carrots with garlic and paprika. When she was a little girl, the only vegetable she would eat were carrots, and since she would be refusing the traditional green beans, her mother taught her young to bring her own vegetable. She would be happily adding this to their Native American meets Modern American Thanksgiving.
For the holiday, Anona dragged a very small TV out of the front closet so Michael and Matthew could watch the many football games being played. Mirabelle had no idea there was a TV hiding in the front closet this entire time, but the picture was crap and it only got 2, 5, 7, and 12. Hardly a large array of channels. She would just have to go on reading about realms far more interesting than anything on television before bed.
Anona made the turkey (raised twenty miles away), stuffing, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie, and the nut and berry appetizer platter. Mirabelle was in charge of her crispy carrots, as well as the cranberry sauce. Lucy was bringing green beans, a corn salad, and homemade apple cider. The boys were bringing store-bought rolls. Anona said that trying to home-make rolls along with everything else was a pain, and she was glad to have some that were always guaranteed to taste the same.
Thanksgiving at Anona’s started early, noon to be exact. Anona liked to wake up at 4 am to put the turkey in, then periodically
check on it. That way, no one filled up on appetizers before the real dinner. Mirabelle opted to sleep until 9, then rushed around like a crazy person trying to finish her two measly tasks while also squeezing in a shower, full make-up, and straightening her hair. Anona also managed to feed the animals, sweep the entire house, set the table, and polish the good candlesticks. Mirabelle needed to learn how her sister managed her time so well.
The night before, Mirabelle had stayed up late reading. She had traveled with Johannah to the Spring Court, perhaps the most frightening of the Fae Courts. While in the Spring Court, time in the human world flew by; a moment there was a year here. On the other hand, the Autumnal Court moved in reverse time. Every moment spent there sent the Traveler back a year in the human realm. Johannah had returned to the human realm after a stint in the Spring Court finding everything in her hometown changed. There was not a single person still alive who she had known, and the beautiful house she had lived in had been replaced with a modern looking atrocity. After all her travels, Johannah gave up on a normal life and kept a small cottage in the woods of Maine that she had found on her family’s ancestral land. She had learned that even if she traveled backwards two hundred years, she would still have a place to live, though at different times, it was sometimes inhabited by previous tenants.
Lucy, Matthew, and Michael showed up at exactly twelve noon. Mirabelle was slightly nervous to see Matthew, but he greeted both her and Anona with a bear hug, which helped her relax. Lucy was a ball of festivity, so there was no time for lulls in the conversation or tension.
“Anona, I hear you had a date,” Lucy said, smiling over nuts and dried berries.
“I did, thank you for announcing it, Matthew.” She responded, throwing a side-glance Matthew’s way.
Welcome to Witchhood (Sister Witches Book 1) Page 8