by Les Goodrich
“For my friend that I love whom some spell or ill binds.
Free now their thought where no hex will it find.
Release the free will that was mind-bound before.
To the place where no sorcery thrives anymore.
Clear as water shining bright.
Under moon glow on this night.
So mote it be.”
She lifted her wand and blue light flowed from it and cast dim shadows on the items in the circle.
“Whoa,” said Jordan and she could hardly believe her eyes as she watched the electrical glow flood up like the slow creeping lightning in a plasma ball. The strands of light ascended into the stars and were gone and Brit looked to Jordan in equal amazement.
“Holy shit!” Jordan said and she jumped to Brit’s side. “Are you okay?”
“I feel great. That was so cool.”
“Well I’ll never say you aren’t a witch again,” Jordan said buzzing with excitement and the girls hugged.
Brit’s words flew out at incredible speed. “Did you see that freaking light go up? Is that how it’s supposed to look?”
“That was gangster. The thing about practical magick is that you can practice it. Learn it. Get better at it. Being a real witch isn’t something you’re born with. It’s not a gene or whatever. It’s like surfing: some people are better at it than others, but anyone who works at it enough can learn how to do it. Some people with witch parents are good at it but more because of a supportive environment or high expectations and not because who their mom or dad is. You starting at this level is unreal. If that was really your first spell then I can’t wait to see what you’re capable of. Tribe!”
Brit nodded and her eyes teared but with joy and the girls hugged and jumped from the sheer energy. They stayed in the circle for a long time and they danced and Jordan cast a spell for the shop’s success finding the lost painting and the cave witch’s book. And Jordan told Brit stories of startling things she had experienced in circles long ago and about learning magick when she was very young and of times when Carol had helped her when it seemed no help was possible.
The next morning Brit had classes until two p.m. She woke and hopped out of bed. She made coffee and glided around her little apartment to get dressed and she was in the lightest and happiest mood she could recall. She felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from her chest and she wanted to call her mom and dad and tell them she had done magick. Real magick. She decide not to, drank her coffee, and walked to class.
As she walked she noticed the glowing buildings in the morning Sun. She said good morning to smiling faces she didn’t know. She saw a young apparitional ghost woman in a Victorian bustle dress and silk bonnet trimmed with roses and feathers reading on a bench along the green. “Good morning,” Brit said and the ghost, somewhat startled at being seen, tilted her bonnet back with one hand to look up.
“Why good morning dear,” she said in return, and Brit walked on. She flew up the stairs to her class two steps at a time and the day went by smoothly.
Tanner opened, Jordan was in at noon, Carol had been there since just before ten, and the shop was slammed. Brit came in to help after class and she and Jordan were going to close and Carol planned to stay as long as she was needed, maybe to the end. The visitor spell mirror was lit up all day and customers, local witches and cowan tourists alike, flooded in. Many people were in costumes since there was no shortage of early parties on that Friday before Halloween. Dan stopped in and was able to chat somewhat amid the action. He and Tanner agreed to meet at Duncan’s Bistro the next night. Dan had the finished article for The Last Dragon.
“I’ll get you that beer tomorrow for sure then,” Tanner said. “The Samhain edition is all ready. I just have to put your article in. I’ll do it tonight and print tomorrow and it will be out exactly on Samhain which is perfect.”
Between customers Jordan and Brit told Carol that Brit had done magick and a bit about why and Carol wanted to know every detail about exactly what Jordan had seen that day at The Poison Apple.
At one point the music shifted into a rambunctious tribal beat and the shop was so full of customers that people had to move out of each other’s way to shop and the entire scene had become hectic. Carol rang up a sale and spoke to Brit.
“Brit, do me a favor and go be sure no funny business is going on in The Crooked Cupboard. And when you’re back there, jump into my office and change this music to something more relaxing. We need to bring down the energy in here. Okay?”
“Done,” Brit said and weaved her way through the shoppers toward the back.
The door opened and Mims backed in with her arms full. She turned around as a group of customers worked their way around her to leave and Jordan saw her holding a coffee traveler and a Coastal Coffee shopping bag.
“Mims!” shouted Jordan and Carol and Tanner looked with grins from helping customers in the store.
“I knew you guys would be getting creamed in here today so I brought you a treat.”
“Put it right here,” Jordan said and she cleared a spot on the front table. Mims paused and looked to Carol helping a customer at the counter end before stepping behind the line. Carol nodded to her and Mims nodded back and stepped between the counters just long enough to place the coffee and bag down and Jordan looked into the bag to find cups, cream, sugar and sweeteners, and a square white box of chocolate covered graham crackers. “Wow thank you so much. And I’m so glad you made it to the store.”
“Yeah I’m super excited about tonight. And I want to look at your books before I go back.”
“Are you guys busy down there?” Jordan asked and Mims weaved her way toward the books.
“Not like here, but yeah,” she said over the activity in the shop.
Mims said hi to Brit and picked out a book on Solitary Wicca.
“Thank you for the coffee. That was very considerate of you,” Carol said to her at the book shelf.
“My pleasure. Happy Halloween. Or Samhain.”
“Yes happy Halloween and Samhain hon,” Carol said warmly and moved off to help shoppers.
Mims paid for the book. “See you tonight,” she said to Jordan at the register and she was gone.
Jordan saw the visitor spell mirror blink and she moved to get a better look at it. In the black mirror she saw a striking girl in her mid-twenties hardly dressed for the cold day wearing well worn, below-the-hip jeans and a tight black shirt hemmed high above her bare, muscled midriff. Her hip bones flashed as she walked with a slinky swerve and her long shimmering strawberry blonde hair fell like a lion’s mane and swung with her stride behind her chiseled face. Her scarlet lips full. Her green mirrored sunglasses on fire in the Sun. Her long arm, bent at the elbow, reached its muscle-lined forearm to her gracefully clasped hand to hold the leather bag strap slung over her wide shoulder. Her delicate blonde girlish arm hair glowed bright like fine illuminated silk and made her tan skin shine.
Jordan felt an involuntary thrill as she watched the girl step in the mirror and her heart raced in full-tilt instant girl-crush mode and the sounds of the shop fell away. She saw the girl’s image grow larger and she recognized in the mirror the wall of the bakery across from the shop and she turned to watch the door for the girl to come in.
The door opened and unnaturally dry air flooded the store and rustled papers and skirt hems as if the air itself had some electric awareness that searched out every loose or vulnerable thing. Carol turned to look, with everyone else, and through the entry stepped a forty-something Gwen looking decidedly unlike the girl for which Jordan had been ready to see.
On Gwen's head six-inch ribbed and curved horns curled up from a black silk rose headdress from which an ebony veil fell behind and within was any and all hair fully concealed. A diamond strand draped from each temple to peak at her powder-white forehead and from its apex a platinum and ruby jeweled bindi hung. The irises of her vacant eyes were as impossibly white as her face and her pupils stood within them as
deep and obsidian as her full black lips.
Her neck was concealed under a theatrically ruffled black circle collar about a fitted turtleneck of black laced crepe which clung curved up to and below her strong jaw and forward chin and so framed her motionless expression of doll-like indifference. Her deep wine-red corset and matching cloak with low slung arms and wizard-wide cuffs curtained the fully gloved hands she clasped before her to hold some unseen device on the belted silver chains that draped the pleated waist of her long garnet skirts of layered brocade silk and raven ruffles which hung wide and to the floor. The only skin visible was her striking alabaster face and she made no sound whatsoever when she moved so smoothly across the floor that she appeared to glide on ice. Tourists stood with jaws agape and locals skirted the shelves to depart and within the store, Halloween Eve or not, there were no doubts. There was a witch in the room.
Gwen moved into the store and Carol intercepted her between the counter end and the aisle to the bookshelf.
Gwen spoke in measured tones and her expression remained stoic. “Hello Carol. I was merely passing by and wanted to wish you a blessed Samhain. You and all of your,” and she swept her gaze over Jordan at the front, Tanner with a customer, and Brit at the bookshelf. “Your, household,” she concluded and her very words fell with their own weight as if each were a stone dropped from her mouth and every syllable was threat and contempt and disdain and black with curses.
“And to you and yours,” Carol said and she leveled her strength and stood more strongly and Gwen tilted her mouth at the posture but stood motionless. “It’s been a long time since we last spoke,” Carol added.
“Perhaps. Yet not so long since I last heard you speak.”
“Oh really? And did I say anything interesting?”
“Hardly,” Gwen remarked and Brit inched away from the book shelf as Gwen slid up. Gwen looked across her shoulder to Brit and in that moment the worries Brit had been entertaining to herself about Marshal utterly vanished. She instantly felt better about the entire situation with him and her insecurities melted and she knew, somehow, that everything would always be natural and positive between them. She smiled at Gwen who nodded most subtly then turned to the book case. She pulled one book out an inch then slid it back. She turned to the Crooked Cupboard archway and upon her silken glide vanished into the hallway and the secluded room beyond.
Carol saw the blissful look on Brit’s face and she took her by the arm and guided her to the back office.
“What?” Brit asked as Carol ushered her through the door.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s that dreamy look about?”
“Oh. I just realized my friend Marshal and I are going to be fine. I like him and I was worried about him some, but not anymore. It’s all fine.”
“And you discovered this just now when Gwen looked at you?”
“Um, yeah I guess.”
“Brittany she was soulpulling you. Shake it off. I mean you and your guy may well be fine, but don’t let her into your head again like that.”
“Soulpulling?”
“I’ll tell you about it when she’s gone. Stay back here until she goes. I’ll be back,” Carol said.
“Why is she here?” Brit asked.
“I don’t know yet but it can’t be good,” Carol whispered and she left and closed the door where Brit stood in the office looking confused.
As Carol moved back into the shop she saw Gwen ahead of her moving toward the door. All other customers were gone. Jordan stood at the register with her wand in her right hand but down and out of view behind the counter. Tanner was near the gemstones watching. Carol stepped around the incense cabinet and into the center of the shop. Gwen turned mechanically and her head remained fully forward and her shoulders stayed level and flat and the motion, as heartless as a clockwork automaton, brought her stiffly around. She began to speak while still turning and when she did finally come to where the two faced squarely she came to a stop but her voice continued to slide to the floor like melting ice.
“There was a time when the power of witches was revered by all. We moved nations. Then we were scorned by the powerless. Driven to the shadows with violence and kept there with lies. I will burn this world and everything in it and I will wipe this little store from the Earth and see all of you scattered like so many bits of debris if you ever dare stand against me. For my goals are all power at all costs. I will never hide. So infuse your little pretend witchcraft with a wise dose of self-preservation and stay well clear of my affairs, or I will leave no doubt in your fragile minds about the power of Shadowclan. And when finally you know in your soul what you have only guessed at, you will merely glimpse it with astonishment as the seams of your very lives wither before your eyes and fall away. Where will you stand on that sweet day? Whatever will you say?”
Carol stepped closer until her face was inches from Gwen's and her voice was less than a whisper but the weight of it was calculated and pristine.
“Go back to your creaky spook shop and keep your little dogs on a leash or you will know the meaning of power. My allies are the Light and the gods beyond counting and all of your decay and treachery digs deeper graves for you and your kind. I will lay you there myself if you lift a wand toward my store or anyone in it.”
“We shall see,” Gwen said and spun again on her trackless rails and left by the door and the shop was at once warmer and the air moved once again and everyone exhaled.
“Brittany, come on out,” Carol called and Brit peeked out from the door then slowly came back up front. Carol hung the “Back in Ten Minutes” sign on the outside doorknob and locked the closed door from within.
“Holy Shadowclan Badass. That was some serious dark energy right there people,” Jordan said from the register. She tossed her wand onto the counter with a muted clatter. “I don’t know what the hell I thought I was gonna do with that.”
“Did she buy anything?” Carol asked Jordan directly.
“No,”
“Tanner, will you smudge this place from front to back and do a house clearing spell along the way?”
“Yes Madam,” Tanner said and he brought out a sage bundle and hawk feather from the front table drawer. He lit the sage and set it to smoke, then made his way through each corner and room fanning the smoke with the feather and he thanked the negative energies for their place in the world, but asked that they depart from the store with all due respect. Carol pulled her wand from her purse and moved to what was basically the middle of the store.
“No one has anything negative to hide do they?”
“No,” the girls said and Tanner called, “No!” from within the Crooked Cupboard.
“Not even anything naughty? Jordan, no porn videos on a jump drive in your backpack?”
“Not today.”
“Very well then,” Carol said. “Stand back,” she added to Brit who was near her. Brit stepped back and Carol said, “Reveal-Shadecast,” and she flourished her wand toward the floor before her. Cool damp air swept across the floors and up every wall in one brief gust. A rude snap crackled from inside the Crooked Cupboard and from the hallway arch Tanner’s voice leapt.
“Dammit all to hell!”
Carol dashed toward the hallway and Tanner met her on his way out. The old anonymous book of shadows smoked in his hand.
“What happened?” Carol asked taking the smoldering book.
“That book blew from the shelf and nearly took my head off. It hit the wall and I thought it was on fire but it just seems to be steaming around the edges.”
Carol opened the book and Jordan and Brit moved closer to look. Carol paged through the book and one section fell open where an old silver Spanish coin stood in the crease. Jordan passed her hand along the page and leant to read the passage.
“Don’t touch that coin,” Carol cautioned. “Brit, in my desk drawer is a white handkerchief. Bring it to me please. Gwen may have put this here. It could quite possibly be a
curse or hex. But we have no way to know that she actually did it. This could have been placed here long ago.”
“It wasn’t,” Jordan said.
“How do you know?”
“Because I was reading this book a few days ago,” Jordan said and she looked to the passage marked by the coin as Carol lifted the token with the handkerchief Brit handed her. She wrapped the coin in the cloth and Jordan took the book and read the section.
“Any time that you are experiencing serious difficulty, it is likely that you are either giving too much, or too little attention to one of these elements. Be aware of your thoughts and actions and aspire to live with a balance of each element.” Jordan looked to the others. “I wrote that quote down in my journal and put the book back the other day when I was dusting. There was no coin in here then.”
Carol took the coin to the front. She placed it inside a small wood box and clasped the lid closed. She unlocked the front door, retrieved the sign from the handle, and hid the box behind the potted palm tree at the door.
Inside she had Tanner open the back door to clear the smoke and when he came back up front she spoke to everyone.
“First, Brit. Gwen is a soulpuller. I suspected it for some time and a year ago I became basically convinced and after what happened to you today I’m sure of it. A soulpuller is a type of Shadowclan energy vampire who consumes a person’s memories, deepest thoughts, feelings, and eventually their complete mortal soul. Many times they’ll begin by consuming bad memories or fears which can make the victim actually feel better about themselves and, therefore, become attracted to them. Even infatuated. But eventually the soulpuller begins to feed on good memories, on hopes. It can render the person fully depressed to a point where there is so little of them left, they simply give up and die.”