The Seventh Witch

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The Seventh Witch Page 24

by Shirley Damsgaard


  Before she could finish, a knock at Lydia’s back door interrupted her. Her eyes widened as Lydia opened the door and admitted the visitor.

  “Mary,” Elsie said with a curt nod of her head.

  Great-Aunt Mary’s jaw clenched. “Elsie.”

  The homey kitchen seemed to vibrate with tension as the two old women stared at each other across the small space. They reminded me of two gunslingers, waiting to see who drew first.

  Aunt Dot broke the spell. “Elsie,” she cried, jumping up from her chair and hurrying over to where Elsie still stood at the door. “I haven’t seen you in a dog’s age.”

  She gave Aunt Dot a wry look but allowed herself to be guided to the kitchen table. Once seated in her chair, she sniffed and lifted a hand to fluff the faded silk flower pinned at the neck of dress. “Seems you’ve had a spot of trouble, Mary.”

  Leaning back in her chair, Great-Aunt Mary crossed her arms. “Always one to state the obvious, aren’t you, Elsie?” Her lips twisted into a bitter grin. “Since Sharon Doran tried to burn the house down around our ears tonight, I guess you could call it a ‘spot’ of trouble.”

  “So are you finally going to put a stop to her?” Elsie asked, leaning forward.

  Great-Aunt Mary did the same. “Yes, I am.”

  Elsie nodded once, sending her scraggly hair floating around her face. “Good,” she exclaimed. “Then I’m here to help.”

  “What makes you think I need your help?” Great-Aunt Mary shot back.

  “Annie told me—”

  Great-Aunt Mary gave a soft gasp. “You saw Annie? You’re not a medium. You can’t—”

  Elsie held up a hand, stopping her. “Don’t worry, Mary, I’m not stealing your thunder. Annie came to me in a dream tonight. She wants all this fussing and fighting to end…” She paused as her face took on a faraway look. “Annie never did cotton to holding grudges.” The look fell away and her focus returned to Great-Aunt Mary.

  “Annie told you to come here?”

  “Yes, and it seems to me if you’re going to clear away over fifty years of evil—” She stopped, and reaching in the pocket of her dress, withdrew a large plastic bag of herbs. Plopping it on the table, she stared at Great-Aunt Mary. “I think you could use my help.”

  Great-Aunt Mary turned to Aunt Dot, who bobbed her head in encouragement.

  “We’re going to the Seven Sisters. Think you’re spry enough to make the trip?” Great-Aunt Mary challenged.

  Elsie let out a low cackle. “As I recall, I’m younger than you, Mary. I’m guessing if you can make it, I can, too.”

  With a shake of her head, Great-Aunt Mary held up her gnarled hands and lifted a finger as she counted off each name. “Me, Sister, Lydia, Abby, Elsie, Tink.” She dropped one hand and pointed at me. “And you, you’re the seventh witch, Ophelia. All you have to do is believe in your gift.” She gave a quick nod of her head. “Seven witches…Seven Sisters.”

  Great-Aunt Mary was right about Maybelle’s boys. They were bigger than the two cousins who had helped Dad back from the clearing the day he sprained his foot. And if they thought it strange, getting called out at four in the morning to carry two aged aunts out to the middle of the woods, they never commented on it. Instead, they waited patiently while we made our preparations.

  Abby and Lydia set about gathering the supplies we would need once we reached the Seven Sisters—crystals, Elsie’s bag of herbs, and a large sack of coarse salt.

  Aunt Dot had referred to what lurked at the Seven Sisters as a curse, and I didn’t know if that was exactly right. From what I’d experienced that night with Ethan at the hunter’s shack, I saw it more as negative energy that hung over the entire place like a bad smell. Sharon had created that energy with her attempts at magick.

  I slapped my forehead—Ethan—I’d forgotten my promise to stay close to the house. If he caught us in the clearing, he would be so pissed.

  He won’t catch us. He talked as if it would take time to set up the Doran bust. He’d be busy working on that, not wandering around the woods.

  While everyone was busy, Great-Aunt Mary and Aunt Dot were sitting at the table, talking quietly. I joined them. I had a question for Great-Aunt Mary.

  “Why did you change your mind about me?” I asked without preamble.

  “I didn’t change my mind,” she answered, “I always knew the gift ran deep in you, girl. I just never thought you had the will to use it. But since you’ve been here,” she let out a low cackle, “you’ve been like a terrier going after a mole…you dig and dig until you get your answers.”

  I didn’t know if I cared to be compared to a dog, but I let it slide.

  Aunt Dot tapped Great-Aunt Mary on her shoulder. “Go ahead, Sister, tell her,” she urged.

  “Annie didn’t just visit Elsie. She was with us tonight, too,” she said softly as her eyes dampened. “After all these years, she finally contacted me.”

  “How?”

  “I was dreaming about her when Abby woke me up. She was trying to tell me something, but I didn’t understand. Now I do.”

  “What?”

  “That a body needs to let go of the past. It’s what Abby needs to do, too.” Her eyes drifted toward Elsie, standing at the counter with Lydia. “Maybe I do too,” she continued softly. “Annie saved us tonight, you know.”

  That was a nice comforting thought, and I hated to argue, but it hadn’t been Annie.

  “I wasn’t dreaming of Annie, Great-Aunt Mary. In fact, I wasn’t dreaming at all.” I shook my head. “I heard knocking.”

  She and Aunt Dot both nodded wisely.

  “Annie? She was trying to get my attention?”

  They nodded again.

  “Have you told Abby? She’d like to know that her mother’s still looking out for her.”

  “She already knows,” Great-Aunt Mary said. “She was dreaming of Annie, too.”

  Wow. I wasn’t a medium, but she was. I’d have to take her word about what had happened earlier.

  The clock suddenly chimed five, and the Aunts turned to one another.

  Time to go.

  Thirty-Six

  Dressed in white cowled robes borrowed from Lydia, our little troop neared the clearing. We were almost there when I hung back and linked my arm with Abby.

  “Are you okay with this?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said, her eyes on the broad back of the cousin carrying Great-Aunt Mary. “I’ve always told you to face your fears?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Now it’s time to face mine. I have a lot of happy memories of the Seven Sisters. Until the day the Dorans attacked me, it had always been a place of peace. I need to remember those memories if we’re going to be successful.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she replied with a small smile. “And you need to focus on your vision of the shaman and his people. If you do, maybe we can finally end the influence the Dorans have had on this valley.”

  “Will Tink be okay?” I still questioned the wisdom of bringing her.

  Abby’s face grew serious. “If I didn’t trust Great-Aunt Mary’s word, I wouldn’t have let her come.” She stopped suddenly.

  We reached the edge of the clearing and paused. As we’d passed the Aunts’ house, I ran inside and grabbed my runes. Even though they hadn’t worked for me on this trip, I figured I needed all the help I could get. And now I sensed a warmth growing from where they nestled in the pocket of my robe. The feeling spread through me and chased away the morning chill. At the same time, I felt the oppressiveness of this place lift, and it was as if a sense of anticipation replaced it.

  At the Seven Sisters, I heard Abby’s small cry of dismay when she saw the stagnant pool, the choked stones. A small tear slid down her cheek.

  “To see this…” She sniffed. “It would’ve caused Mother so much pain.”

  I tossed an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t think about it. We’re going to fix it,” I said with a confidence I wasn’t sure I
really felt.

  Maybelle’s son set Great-Aunt Mary on her feet as she whispered something in his ear. He quickly left, only to return a few minutes later carrying pieces of wood and kindling. After handing them to Lydia, he and his brother faded into the woods beyond the circle. They’d been instructed to return after sunrise.

  We fell into step, and one by one entered the circle. Lydia crossed to the center and laid out the wood while Abby handed each of us a piece of hematite for grounding and a piece of green fluorite for cleansing. We all slipped them into the deep pockets of our robes. Abby then opened Lydia’s bag and withdrew the sack of salt. Opening it, she walked clockwise as she poured the salt in a large circle. Soon the circle was complete and the fire blazed.

  One last thing…Lydia reached in her bag and grabbed the sack of herbs that Elsie had provided. When she cast it on the fire, the air immediately filled with the pungent smell of sage. She joined the rest of us, and with linked hands we all stepped over the circle of salt.

  Closing her eyes, Abby called the Elements.

  The dark richness of the Earth seemed to anchor us.

  Air stirred the sage and its smoke drifted over and around us.

  Bright flames of fire, fed by the breeze, leapt and danced.

  From behind me, I heard the gurgle of water as if the stagnant pool had suddenly come to life once more.

  Throughout the clearing, I felt a gentleness gather, forcing back the darkness that clung to this place.

  I opened my eyes and looked at Lydia, facing me from across the fire. And I swear, she glowed with a soft green light while her amulet shone so bright it almost hurt my eyes. My attention traveled to Tink and Great-Aunt Mary. I saw shadows, shifting and moving behind them, drawing closer to the warmth of Lydia’s fire.

  And Aunt Dot? Little sparks of light zigged and zagged above her head. Was it her fairies lending their energy to ours?

  I felt the rays of the morning sun begin to warm the back of my neck. Just a few more minutes before its light hit the center of the circle. It would be done, finished, all the evil banished forever.

  The warmth vanished. A chill, like icy fingers, moved down my back. No, no, this was not supposed to happen.

  I dropped Abby’s and Elsie’s hands and spun around as Sharon Doran stepped from the shadow of one of the standing stones.

  With a rifle pointed directly at Abby.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” she said, her eyes flicking in my direction.

  Without thinking, I broke the circle and stepped in front of Abby. “We’re taking back what’s ours.”

  I heard a soft rustle on either side of me, and I glanced to my left then to my right. Still inside the circle of salt, everyone had moved to form a straight line. Now the seven of us faced Sharon.

  A hint of fear flared in her brown eyes, and I pressed my advantage.

  “It’s over, Sharon,” I said, keeping my voice calm.

  Her hands on the gun tightened. “No, it’s not,” she replied softly, and I saw the fear in her eyes vanish as a madness seemed to take hold.

  Above us, clouds tumbled and rolled across the sun, blocking it. The heaviness that had been almost gone oozed around Sharon like a poisonous gas. I felt a darkening, building as it waited just beyond the edge of the Seven Sisters.

  “Put the gun down and leave,” I commanded, taking one step forward. “Before it’s too late.”

  Her jaw clenched. “No, I vowed you’d pay, and you will.” She slowly lifted the gun and sighted down the barrel.

  I jerked up my hands. “Wait—let the others go. I’ll stay.”

  Abby grabbed my sleeve, but I shook her off and crossed over the salt.

  “You have nothing to gain by killing us. If you want revenge, take it out on me, not them.”

  Her eyes narrowed and the gun lowered as she thought it over. I took another step.

  She caught my movement and jerked the gun back to her shoulder. “She killed my grandpa,” she hissed with a slight wave of the barrel in Abby’s direction. “Granny said she cursed him.”

  I shook my head. “Your grandfather cursed himself…I saw it, Sharon. He cowered before the spirits that dwell here.”

  “There ain’t no ghosts here,” she scoffed.

  I moved closer. “Yes there are. And they don’t like the way your family has defiled their sacred spot.”

  As if to affirm my words, a crack of lightning crisscrossed the sky above us, and the low rumble of thunder shook the clearing, the sound bouncing off the standing stones.

  A thin bead of sweat glimmered on Sharon’s top lip.

  “They were the ones who caused your grandfather’s death. He insulted them, like you’re doing right now.” I crossed my arms. “Do you want to die like he did, Sharon?”

  “Are you cursing me?” The end of her gun wavered.

  If I could just get close enough to grab the gun. I slid one foot forward. “I—”

  The ground beneath my feet seemed to tremble, and I thought I saw the standing stones vibrate, as if they were trying to shake off the vines choking them. Suddenly, Sharon screamed, and I watched in horror as a jagged slash appeared on her cheek.

  “Stop it!” she screamed again, her gun swinging in a wild arc as another gash marked her forehead.

  My God, she was being cut to ribbons before our eyes.

  “Run!” I shouted over my shoulder as I lurched for the gun.

  She fired wildly and I hit the ground. The sky opened and a torrent of rain poured down on us. Scrambling to my knees, I tried crawling toward her, but the gun kept barking bullets as she tried to shoot the unseen forces attacking her.

  I heard the sound of pounding feet, and lifting my head, I saw three men, wearing deputy sheriff jackets, come running toward us. And sprinting out in front of them? Ethan.

  Sharon heard them, too, and spun, her gun still firing.

  “No!” I screamed as Ethan crumpled to the ground.

  The two men with him launched themselves at Sharon, tackling her to the ground.

  The gunfire stopped and a deadly silence filled the circle. With my robe tangling around my knees, I crawled over to where Ethan lay.

  “Lydia, Lydia!” I called. “Help me!”

  I raised my head, my eyes scanning the clearing through the rain.

  I saw her…she sat cradling Abby in her arms.

  My scream echoed again and again.

  Thirty-Seven

  I thought the pain in my heart would kill me. We’d won, but at what price?

  Then I saw Abby lift her head.

  I almost fainted. “Is she hurt?” I called out.

  With Lydia’s help, Abby raised herself to a sitting position and flapped a hand in my direction. After Elsie and Lydia helped Abby to her feet, Lydia rushed to my side.

  Ethan had rolled over onto his back and rain poured down on his still face. I leaned over him, trying to shield him with my body as best I could.

  “Ethan, open your eyes,” I said, bending close.

  His eyes fluttered open and he groaned. “My leg,” he gasped, his breath coming in short quick pants.

  I looked over my shoulder at Lydia. She knelt by his knee carefully inspecting the crimson stain slowly spreading down the leg of his jeans.

  “Abby?” I said to her.

  “When the bullets started flying, Elsie shoved her to the ground and it knocked the wind out of her. She’s fine.”

  “The rest?”

  “They’re all huddled under one of the lintels. No one was hit.”

  “Ethan?” I asked.

  “The bullet hit his knee. It’s not fatal, but I’ve got to stop the bleeding,” she said, moving her hand over the ever widening stain.

  Just like on the day when Dad had injured his foot, the air around us hummed with Lydia’s healing energy as she used it to stop the bleeding.

  Abruptly, she stopped and shook her head. “It’s not working. His body is in too much pain and he’s blocking the healing.”
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  I turned back to Ethan, his eyes tightly shut as he rolled his head from side to side. “Ethan, listen to me…you’re going to be fine…Lydia and I are going to help you.”

  Closing my eyes, I placed my hand on his forehead and concentrated on my mind touching his. His pain shot up my arm, and I almost lost the connection. Breathing deeply, I let it wash through me, absorbing it with my mind.

  Slowly, Ethan calmed. His head stopped rolling and his muscles seemed to relax.

  I don’t know how long Lydia and I knelt by his side, but finally I heard the sound of all-terrain vehicles ripping through the woods. They came to a stop and two men jumped off, running toward us. Lydia moved aside as one of the men ripped Ethan’s pant leg and assessed the wound. With quick sure motions, he opened the bag he’d carried and began treating Ethan’s leg. The other man knelt across from me, and after tearing Ethan’s shirt, started an IV.

  He took a moment to glance at me. “We’ll take it from here,” he said.

  I stumbled to my feet and slowly crossed the circle to where the rest of my family waited, their sodden robes hanging off their shoulders. As I did, out of the corner of my eye, I spied Sharon being led away in handcuffs.

  From across the clearing her eyes met mine, and I staggered from the hatred I saw there.

  Once they got us all out of the woods, I insisted that I be allowed to accompany Ethan in the ambulance. They didn’t argue. I guess even DEA agents didn’t want to take on a group of women dressed in soggy white robes. Shoving mine into Lydia’s waiting arms, I hopped in the back and we took off.

  On the ride to the hospital in Asheville, Ethan kept drifting in and out of consciousness. I didn’t even know if he realized I was there. Finally his cool, gray eyes opened and he stared up at me.

  He frowned as they focused on my face. “Jensen?”

  “Hey, slick, how ya doing?” I said with forced brightness.

  “Haven’t I told you to keep your head down?” he asked, his voice slurred from the medication.

  “I believe you have,” I agreed.

  He winced as he shifted his body. “Next time listen.”

 

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