Katerina was like a nurturing mother with a deep power vibrating through her. She also had a knowledge of stones, herbs, and crystals. Laura was much older than both and was a tad contrary, to the point of almost being rude, but I think she was used to getting away with it because of her age. She could also see so much more than anyone I had ever met. She could see even more than Reg, which could account for her no nonsense attitude. She was a master of tarot and had advisors on the other side. My brain was thirsty for their knowledge, and for the first time in a long time, I felt safe and excited for my craft and what tomorrow would bring.
I arose with the sun each morning, focused on healing rituals with my mentors. We usually had porridge and fruit for breakfast, and then I started my process with acupuncture, courtesy of Anna Belle. I then moved on to flow yoga, which I performed with the utmost awkwardness, but I was slowly building strength and stretching out my abused my body. During the exercise, we would practice spells that moved in tune with our movements. Drawing the winds to us, tapping into the sleeping earth under the snow, and bringing and distributing peace to everything around us.
Katerina would prepare us a lunch of hearty beef stew or rabbit terrine. I would spend the afternoons with Katerina, usually with Katerina performing hypnotherapy on me to release the forgotten memories or to get to the bottom of my time with Lou. I still had a hard time discussing all of this consciously. Sometimes after a session, when I woke, Katerina would look haunted. One time, I caught her chasing tears away. It broke my heart. I felt like I was still hurting people just by reliving my tale.
She performed many treatments on me, kind and gentle ones, healing me from the inside out. My migraines became almost nonexistent, my thoughts became clearer, and my moods became lighter.
Dare I say I was beginning to feel like the Nicole Weston I used to know, before the bell shrieked and death walked into my shop?
Maybe…just maybe.
We would study ancient scripts from our ancestors. Most read like cookbooks or spell books. Some held advice that had been preserved through the generations. It certainly wasn’t bible or heresy. It was full of notes on weather and gardening, or diaries of events and secret thoughts. There were detailed moments of magic and how it had occurred.
The four of us skimmed or read deeply, picking up a few things here and there, ultimately looking for the connecting piece to bring me back to life as I knew it. We didn’t say it, but we all knew what else we were really looking for.
The truth about Lou and how to destroy him.
We made an oath to each other the day I arrived never to speak of him. Laura’s eyes were touched with fear when she told us that to speak of people most usually invited them to where you did not want them to be.
We all agreed, and he was not spoken of except for when I was hypnotized with Katerina.
I was now believing I could not recover my Earth element or conquer Lou, which was my ultimate endgame, unless we knew what we were dealing with and how to defeat it.
So far, no such luck.
In the evenings we all made dinner together. Anna Belle made the most beautiful dinners, always with a surprise. She would make root vegetable pies from their winter harvest and add walnuts to the pastry, or she would make potato leek soup with a pinch of red-pepper spice. Katrina would be in charge of whatever game was in the oven, and I would pound out fresh buns or bread drizzled with olive oil and peppered with herbs. Laura would sit by the fire, rocking softly in her chair, smoking a pipe, of all things, as she watched the snow fall out the window. When dinner was over and cleaned away, I would sit at Laura’s feet and wait for her to tell me something—anything—from the other side.
I don’t know what I was hoping to hear. Many nights she wouldn’t say a word.
We would sit in silence and ponder our own thoughts, Laura with an absent finger touching the scar near her eye, sharing none of her thoughts as we knitted or hand sewed what was needed for our clothing or for the house. Other nights she would tell me stories about when she was a young witch, learning her gifts, being tormented by spirits until she was able to control their presences.
I thought about Roomie then and wondered if Laura could teach me some tricks about how to communicate with him or how to conjure him. As it was, he came around only when he wanted to. As I had learned from the battle at Shadow Hills, a spirit’s assistance could be of great advantage in a battle.
She spoke of another intrigue vaguely, and I could tell from her face that she regretted it the instant she said it. I would pry at her to continue, but she would just get up and go to her bed chamber.
She spoke of a very rare witch with extraordinary gifts. This witch could master all of the elements, conjure spirits and control them, and also influence the weather—the final element in only the most unique of witches in a witch’s trade. This witch was called the Lightning Witch. Laura said she’d met one once, when she was a young girl. She had come across such a witch on a hilltop, and the witch was influencing the lightning, surrounded by ghosts in a tumultuous tornado of frightening magic, her long hair flying behind her in the wind, laughing maniacally into the storm she’d created.
This witch was very dangerous. The only stories were of the ones who became evil, aggressive, and selfish in their power. Laura mentioned that they were all gone from the world now and not to fear, but her eyes told a different story. They darted to the window at times during a storm, looking wary when lost in her own memories, like she was still seeing things she wished she didn’t. Always rubbing that old scar with an absent finger.
I wondered if there was more to that story of the Lightning Witch on the hill from when Laura was a young girl, new to her own powers. Something told me there was.
Everyone had their own demons, it seemed.
Before bed, I would go to my room and lie in my bed, staring at nothing, my mind filled with images of Jasper and Hunter and Betty. I missed them so much. I would give my heartstring a light flick every night and wait until Jasper returned the call. Then I would roll over and try to sleep restfully, hiding from dark dreams of what our future may hold all night.
Chapter Sixteen
I was once told by a wise friend that the medical industry wants you sick because that is how they make money, and the holistic industry wants you healthy because that is how they make money.
Sold.
Medicine has saved many lives—don’t get me wrong—but pharmaceutical giants have put a choke hold on so-called cures, meanwhile capitalizing on antibiotics and such to treat a disease or illness instead. With technology and advancement in medicine, the treatments are becoming more treacherous than the diseases, when it shouldn’t be that way.
Human life is worth so much more than that.
Recovery is lower on their statistical scales. Life expectancy is tightfisted, and who said these companies should be able to tell me how long they expect me to live? I have the hippy state of mind of “damn the man” and so on, but I have tried the medical industry to treat my migraine affliction, and they could not help me. They in their own turn made me worse. The countless pills I had to swallow, the drowsiness, dizziness, nausea, mood swings—all of it turned me into a walking zombie, and I still got migraines. I put in a fair chance with their cures and treatments, and then they wanted to cut out sections of my brain as an alternative. Now I was turning to a more natural and healthy way to cure my problems.
And it was working.
Hayden had gotten me off to a good start with essential oils, vitamins, and techniques like massage and acupuncture to get my endorphins going, preventing migraines, but now I had to take it a step further—especially if I wanted a hope in hell of retrieving the magic that the trio had enlightened me was still somewhere inside of me.
As time passed, my strength grew. My routine began to change slightly, my mood lightening up with the melting snow. Spring was slowly coming to the forest now, and the snowdrops peeped through their winter blanket to welcome the sun.
I thought of the first morning I had been with Jasper in the cabin. I had caught him using his Fire element, and I in turn had made the snowdrops dance.
I reached out to one now and coaxed it, willing it to dance.
It stood still in the blanket of snow.
Every day Laura took me for a morning walk into the forest, where I carried baskets and would pick the roots and plants she pointed at hastily with her walking stick. Exercise was extremely important in migraine prevention, so I took it wherever I could. Even though I had to suffer through Laura’s snide remarks and subtle insults, I cherished these walks. Not only was I learning a lot more about herbs and their uses than I ever thought I would—and I couldn’t wait to express that to Tracey and Hayden—but the walks were making me stronger. Walking in the early morning with the sunlight just peeking through the mountain range and settling on the treetops, I felt so far away from that institution, or almost like the year in the cave with Lou never happened.
Almost.
During our walks every day, she would tell me a little more history of our people. She explained that this was basically how magic had come into the lives of certain people. By healing, meditation, and becoming closer to the elements and the universe than others could, or at least would. It seemed like not enough of an explanation to me as to the whys and hows of our people becoming magically inclined. But if I pried or questioned her, I would be met with silence for the rest of our walk.
“Laura, when are you going to tell me the real story here?” I asked her one day as she slowly walked some paces ahead of me.
She stopped dead in her tracks and stood stock-still for a moment before she slowly peeked her head over her shoulder. “What story is that?”
I walked up to her and put a hand up to the scar at her temple. Her bony hand moved at lightning speed and grabbed my hand. My mouth was agape.
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered at the shock of it all. “I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I was just curious. I mean, it must have been a deep wound when it happened.”
“Never you mind, princess. You have more important things to be wondering and thinking about,” she snapped. She kept walking.
I realized quickly that Laura would do the talking, and I was expected not to ask any questions or interrupt her until she was finished and we were making our way back to the cottage.
She would touch on patience, which was the last thing I had, or her for that matter. I needed to speed things up somehow; I had to recover fully and regain my element. I had to get back to Autumn Moors.
Sometimes Laura would look off into the distance, her head tilted slightly, listening to her contacts from the other side. I always felt uneasy at those moments, like I felt when people had a conversation in a different language in front of me and I could not understand a single word. Sometimes she would glance at me and scoff, which did wonders for my self-esteem.
I was told to focus on rebuilding the relationship I had with my element, coming to see that I had abused her. Whether that had been my intention or not, I had to rebuild that trust again—prove myself somehow.
I needed redemption.
By the time we returned to the small cottage of the trio, Anna Belle would be waiting for me to perform some strength exercises, which was really now more of an intense yoga with a stronger sense of magic. Now that Earth was thawing for spring, she was waking from her deep slumber, which meant I should have more chance of renewing that bond. Anna Belle taught me, or tried to teach me, healing mantras that drew energy from the element of Earth while I stretched my limbs that were just beginning to feel like my own again. I had to stretch my mind as far as it would go, clearing it and accepting what was out there. I hesitated to do this, giving of myself or opening myself up again, as I may let in what shouldn’t come in. Anna Belle assured me as long as my heart and mind remained focused on God and the universe, all the good intentions would be returned to me.
I trusted in that.
At the end of our sessions, we sat in silence for a long time, listening to the earth and becoming a part of it. Sending our respect and love. After all the time I’d spent with Lou, I had not thanked Earth for anything. I’d abused that relationship, I realized. I was making amends slowly. I spoke to her but was still unable to hear her reply. At times I thought I heard a whisper, but it was nothing like I had known before my time with Lou. I would feel my hope dwindle, but Anna Belle would catch it before it was gone. She was such a good friend.
These mornings were helping to bring me back to a peaceful center I had long since lost. The chaos and anger seemed far away to me now. I grew calmer every day, even though I still felt unattached to Earth. I longed to tether myself back to my element, to feel its energy and let it feel mine. I tried not to become discouraged, but it was an ongoing effort.
I prayed it would return to me in due time.
Later in the day, I would meet with Katerina in their greenhouse, which was once a servants’ kitchen that they’d converted into a “living” room. Herbs hung from bunches on the racks that hung down from the ceilings, and ivy and creeping jennies crawled up the stone walls. The floor was covered with leaves and petals that were separated during the tasks of harvesting. A gentle breeze breathed in and out of the room throughout the day. I loved this room the best. I felt safe in here—protected, as if no one else in the world could ever find me unless I invited them in.
I felt peace here.
Katerina taught me so many things those afternoons. Mostly she taught me about my element and brought me back to the basic appreciation of Earth and what it was willing to do for us. We took our time with separating the leaves from the stems, sprinkling the seeds in small canisters, whispering blessings, and cataloguing the crop as she explained to me what medicinal or magic uses each one had.
Before I knew it, the sun would be sinking behind the trees, and the fires would be lit in the hearths, thanks to Anna Belle. We would wash and get ready for bed, all of us singing softly to wind down the house for the night.
How wonderful it felt to take care of yourself. To go to bed at a decent hour and sleep soundly with peaceful dreams or none to speak of at all. To have a routine, one with exercise and fresh air, and meaningful tasks that filled your day, leaving you with a healthy appetite by nightfall and a tired body from all of the physical exertion. To have calm surroundings, to have decent people that meant something to you and that you knew cared about you. You could trust each other to take care of each other, if need be. I couldn’t explain enough how much I had needed these surroundings—to learn things, to be protected and loved. To wake with the sun and feel immediate peace in my heart and soul.
To be accepted and forgiven.
As time went on, I trained hard, I studied even harder, and I spent hours meditating, communicating with the elements and performing spells. I took advantage of the beautiful summer at the cottage and worked with all sorts of trades of magic. Finally magic was more capable in my hands and heart, and I felt the warm sizzling of energy as Anna Belle also taught me what to do with Fire. I heard the whistling song of the winds in my heart as they followed me through the trees, waiting for an invitation. I felt the lure of the water as I walked by the streams or as rain fell. But still nothing from Earth.
One sunny blessed afternoon, I settled down into a chair on the porch and tilted my face to the warm sun as I closed my eyes. I thought about what a blessing the world was. I thought about the Earth gathering herself around me and holding me as I longed to hold her again. Anna Belle must have come out during my relaxation. Her startled gasp drew me out of my sublime dream. Katerina and Laura were standing in the garden, looking around in shock.
All around us the cherry blossoms swayed as if they were shaking hands with the wind. Their precious, fragrant blooms fell like a light snow onto our party of witches. Everyone had paused, but now I was amazed to hear a girl-like giggle bubble out of Laura. She covered her mouth with both hands. Katerina, Anna Belle, an
d I all started giggling with her.
The petals fell like gentle kisses on our cheeks and noses as a familiar clown car arrived in the driveway. The wobbly Mr. Peevly staggered out and bobbed side-to-side as he ran toward me and my waiting smile.
He was so forlorn and apologetic. I knew why he was in such a state, but I felt no ill will. I have never blamed him for knowingly handing me over to the tortures of Lady Veronica and Shadow Hills. Mr. Peevly was a prisoner in his own way.
He sat down with me on the porch and told me his own tale. Lady Veronica has always been powerful in this region and held his wife in her shackles at Shadow Hills who had been admitted the same as me, to heal from severe head aches and mood swings. He had no choice but to bring any waiting customer to her outstretched arms, or he risked losing his wife forever.
His wife was sick and Lady Veronica had taken her in to “relieve” her mental illness and had promised the Peevlys a complete return to normalcy. After months of zero contact, Mr. Peevly snuck in the fortress to find the true horror of the hospital. He then mustered up as much courage as he could to face Shadow Hills and Lady Veronica to retrieve his wife, in whatever state she might have been in.
Mrs. Peevly had been fetched but had not resembled the woman he had loved and left at Shadow Hills months before. Her head had been shaved, her weight had been forty pounds lighter, and she had no longer been able to speak, either from destroyed vocal cords caused by excessive screaming or from her frayed mind that could no longer bring forth a spoken thought.
Lady Veronica had returned her to Mr. Peevly on the one condition that he would forever fetch patients for Shadow Hills, or she would take Mrs. Peevly deep into halls of the hospital, and Mrs. Peevly would never be seen again, as she would most definitely be placed in the Chair.
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