"The Greening," was the name she called it because it was such a vibrant green that it almost seemed to glow. In fact, the green was so lush you would expect to find it in Ireland or Iceland, not Mississippi. Yet here the land was so rich with power that even those without the sight took notice. There were times when the ley lines hummed so loudly that visitors to the farm commented on hearing it.
It was an eerie sound that could seem to change depending on the person hearing it. For instance, when Erika heard it, it sounded like a massive swarm of bees. But Becca told her when she listened, it sounded like the theme music from Doctor Who. And still when the two girls walked together and heard it, they could swear they heard music that was so ethereal and haunting, it made their soul hurt.
After the professor bought the property the circle helped him select plans for the house and barn, plant gardens, and dig a water well. They had even created their own standing stone circle using sacred geometry, the ancient Tome his mother passed down to him, and Appalachian folk magic. Everything was purposeful and had a significant meaning so that there was something of the seven of them and the Professor in everything. Under their careful tending, the land had began to look like a fae glen. Wild animals like whitetail deer, foxes, raccoons, and coyotes roamed the grounds. There was even a small herd of rescued horses on the property's 52 acres.
Rolling the black Chevy Tahoe to a stop, Erika's gaze drifted over the homestead. Papa Doc had always told them that he wanted them to build a home on the estate when they were ready. The only one who had taken him up on it was Hermit. They worked out an arrangement where Hermit helped Papa Doc with the farm, and he lived rent-free in the 2000 sq ft loft space above the barn. Together the two men were creating a self-sufficient homestead complete with solar power and wind turbines. In fact, she thought with a chuckle, the two had recently acquired some goats, chickens, an alpaca, and some geese.
Walking into the backdoor of the farmhouse, Erika was greeted by a chorus of voices calling her name. She was relieved to see Wren, Roxi, Becca, and Millie already here. Velvet was driving up from Fort Rosalie, so she was expected to be the last to arrive. The others present, she was less happy to see. Rayne and Jim Standingfoot, and Jewel, the Professor’s bride were in the kitchen as well.
Jewel was a stunning woman with long brunette hair, full lush lips, and her very essence oozed Vogue chic. She was a mystery to them having turned up six weeks before the shelter in place order was given, and then three weeks later, she and the Professor were married. It had not even been a real wedding really, just a short trip to the justice of the peace.
"Erika, come on in and sit, cher," the woman called to her with a thick Cajun accent. "I was just telling everyone about the ritual we will be doing tonight." She turned to the bookish girl sitting next to her and continued, "Boo, we have to do it tonight. We must strengthen the bonds within the group." The girl was about to agree when without waiting for an answer, the woman made a dramatic flourish. "It is settled then. We do it tonight."
Taken aback, Erika shot a questioning look to the others and was met with a group eyeroll. What the heck had she walked into? Lifting her eyebrows, she looked to Wren who met her gaze with very "loosely" veiled disdain for Jewel. Erika knew it was no great mystery that Wren despised the Cajun woman to the core and could only guess what fresh hell was underway.
She placed her purse on the counter before mustering up all her civil niceness. Turning towards the group, she gave Jewel the biggest church nice smile she could manage. She was about to ask "Why," when the door opened. There stood a short man with glasses carrying an ice-chest. The large size of the ice chest made the man look even smaller than his 5'2 plump frame suggested. He struggled for a moment, trying to shut the door before dropping the ice chest to the floor with a thud. Noticing Erika for the first time. He looked her over before turning bright red. Dropping his gaze, he mumbled, "Is Ransom with you?"
"No," she pouted, moving to the kitchen table to stand behind Wren. "He got called up on short notice and did not get to drive down. The Army needed him for some sort of training exercise."
"Bummer man, I was about to go help Z, Hermit, and Preach set up tents in the grove. Was gonna ask him to join." He told her trying to sound hip. He shrugged his shoulder before casting his eyes over at Jim Standingfoot. Erika watched closely, picking up on the hesitation between Jewel's oldest son and the native American. She had thought they were a tight knit group, but it did not appear that there was any closeness between those two for sure. Erika filed the information away for later use.
It occurred to her then that she never really noticed Devonne. It was like she just forgot he was there and that made him dangerous. “Holy moly,” she thought to herself, “He had been shielding from us this entire time this and no one ever noticed.” At least she had not. Biting her lip, she realized this could also explain why he avoided Jim. That made her more curious as to what the real purpose in asking about Ransom was. Not to mention exactly how powerful was he to be able to hide in plain sight in front of her and her soul sisters. Narrowing her eyes, she wondered, “What secrets are you hiding, Devonne?” Just because the man had some ridiculous duck for a Fylgjur, she had thought him inconsequential. Now it turns out that he had pulled the wool over all their eyes. Oh yes, when this night was done, she was going to have to read up on duck medicine.
“Just because it is not a predator does not mean a Fylgjur doesn’t have strong medicine,” Papa Doc had warned her. He was trying to get her to learn all she could about Fylgjur since she had the gift of seeing them. "So yeah, mental note - duck magic," she thought as she watched Devonne more closely.
"Jim, you wanna come down to the grove with me and help the guys get the tents set up?" the little man asked, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. The large Navajo stood. In his curt way, he gave the short man a nod.
Erika tried not to shiver when Jim’s cold ebony eyes touched hers. She often thought that Jim Standingfoot's eyes had all the emotion of a great white shark. Even Ransom who usually let her make her own decisions about people, warned her about Jim. "He has the eyes of a killer," he told her one night shortly after meeting him. "I don't know what his story is, but I know that man has never been in the military a day in his life. And is definitely not law enforcement."
The man moved with fluid grace, but she sensed the ugliness inside his soul that he tried to hide. She had not seen his Fylgjur yet. It must be something small and deadly that could stay hidden. Whatever it was, its presence clawed at her like a strong odor or a smell.
Jim rarely spoke, but when he did, it had an air of cold resentment and arrogance that ran deep. Hate for the world came off him in waves, and she knew even if Ransom had not warned her to steer clear of the man, she would have avoided him. What she could not understand was how the others did not seem to pick up on his wrongness. They just accepted him and his wife with open arms. She knew everyone did not see the world like she did, but it frustrated her. Erika was not judgmental like they thought – she was observant. And she knew without a doubt that there was an evil deep rooted in Jim Standingfoot much like how she knew Rayne Standingfoot that kept it at bay.
Rayne was the proud man's one redeeming quality. Her calming spirit kept the man on the right-hand path. Without her, he would live in the Black Lodge. As though he could read her mind, the big man brushed past her, hitting her in the shoulder as he made his way out the door. She did her best to ignore the slight by flashing Devonne a bright smile, "Hey D, have you tried texting Velvet? Last I spoke with her, she was riding up with Buck - I bet he would help."
After the two men left, Erika looked at the others. She bit her lip carefully, considering her words. She took a sip from her water bottle and asked, "Am I the only one who thinks we should wait before doing a bonding ritual?" Her fingers worked nervously as she screwed the bottle top on and off. "I mean, it seems a little rushed. Shouldn't we focus our efforts on the work we have researched and prepared for?
"
From across the room, Jewel narrowed her eyes at her. "Cher, that is exactly why it needs to happen. We must synch our energies before we undertake such important workings."
Erika watched as the snake coil itself around the woman's bicep. Its slitted eyes watching her, tongue flicking out, tasting the air. She felt like Jewel knew the snake was aware, but she told them very firmly her familiar was a black cat. She had always wondered why the woman kept the truth of its nature from the others.
Wren’s voice was like a whip, "Jewel, I want to make sure I understand. Are you saying that the "bonds" are more important than the millions of infected people sick or dying? That somehow 'we' are more important?"
Jewel walked across the room and slapped her as quick as a viper strike before Wren had a chance to step back. "That is exactly what I AM saying." Both Jewel and the viper glaring at the auburn-haired Wren. Briefly, Erika noticed that Jewel’s unusually thick Cajun accent had mysteriously disappeared. Now at full attention, she watched Jewel to see if anything else fell out during the exchange.
Wren sat stunned for a moment as an awkward silence settled over the table. Clearing her throat, Rayne stood up, doing her best to defuse the situation. “Jewel,” she politely asked, “I need to start getting those candles ready to take down to the tents. Could you show me where they are again?” She offered Wren an apologetic smile over Jewel's shoulder as she escorted Jewel from the kitchen.
As soon as Jewel was out of earshot, Wren asked "Anyone care to explain why we should go participate in this bonding ritual?" The seer sat, studying each of them, her one blue eye and one amber eye seeming to glow in the fading daylight.
"Does it matter?" Erika grumped, taking a bite of a baby carrot from the vegetable tray on the table. She could tell by the redness of the handprint marring Wren’s lovely face, that the slap had stung. She also knew Wren would never acknowledge it or any abuse dealt by Jewel. The girl was too proud to let the woman know she got to her.
"It does to me," Wren told her.
Everyone in the group respected and trusted Wren, however Wren had always kept them at an arm’s length. The only exception had been the Professor and Erika. Having a gift to see the past, present, and future, Wren had a hard time relating to others because things got jumbled in her mind as to what was she was supposed to know, what the person wanted to keep secret, and what they never needed to be made aware of. After losing friends as a child she had found it was safer to play alone.
However, with Erika, things had been different. The black-haired girl was an open book. She wore her heart on her sleeve, was the first to forgive a slight, and in most cases, she gave people the benefit of the doubt. She often prodded Wren about things and made her laugh with her insights. Erika pecked away with her raven curiosity and wanted to understand how the tapestry of life was woven. Wren appreciated her candor and, in turn, had opened to Erika. At first, out of curiosity, but over time, that changed to genuine friendship.
Erika leaned in, lowering her voice, "I don't know how to explain it. It is like something just 'smells’ wrong."
Looking around to make sure no one new had come into the room, Becca admitted, "Agreed. Absolutely nothing is on the level with this."
Pausing before she replied, Wren stared absently out the window, "I feel that I’m purposefully being blinded regarding this ritual. I cannot see anything or anyone.”
Roxi rubbed her baby bump and pushed back in her chair, "I don’t know that I can really say anything with 100% clarity. You are my sisters and I cannot think of anything better than strengthening the bonds we share. But I respect your unease. I don’t think anyone should do magic or anything else for that matter that makes them uncomfortable.” Frowning, she stood up, stretching her back, her hand on her belly. “I know that wasn’t helpful – sorry. I will say that I have a bad feeling about tonight and if it weren’t for you all, I would not have come tonight."
Millie squinted her dark eyes lost in thought before she responded. "I guess I have mixed feelings," she told them as she absentmindedly twisted her long reddish-brown hair into a bun." "We have had the luxury of being close friends for a few years now. It is normal; we do not feel the same trust with newbies. On the one hand, we are obviously not going to feel the same connection and comfort with them." Leaning back, she slapped her hand on the table. "But I don't believe Papa Doc would put us in any danger. At least not knowingly. I think we have to trust that he brought us together for a reason and recognize he is doing the same thing here."
Erika gave Millie a tight hug. "I guess I am just worried what the ramifications of a bonding like this could be when we do not really know much about some of the people involved. I mean, I would not marry someone after a few weeks. Bonding yourself magically to them seems much harder to get divorced from."
"It could just be us, but yeah, Z and I did talk about it. We think for a working group to be successful, there needs to be a certain amount of trust and respect. The kind of trust that can only be built over time,” Becca shared. Shrugging good-naturedly, she added, “And neither of us have that with these new cats."
Chapter 3
The next few hours whirled away as the group of friends prepared the meal for the feast they would share once their circle was cast. As they were making the salad Wren whispered to Erika. "Something stirs, sister. Something ancient and old."
Erika looked into Wren's eyes and saw that the distant, far-seeing look of prophecy was upon her. Putting the paring knife down she wiped her hands on a dishtowel, worry obvious in her eyes. As she pulled Wren into the hallway she asked, "Is it the Virus?" She had often wondered if the virus was sentient or some type of bioweapon. But Wren could not hear her, her voice no longer her own as she gazed into the ether. "No one escapes the catastrophe unharmed. A white bird trapped in an obsidian lodge - haunted, loved, and weary. Devastation is complete. Yet in the void, there is hope. A red rose blooms in the heart of darkness."
Erika reached out to catch Wren as the seer collapsed against the wall. "Well, this can't be good.”
Pulling Wren to the bathroom, Erika splashed some water on her friend's pale face. When she came to Erika repeated the message she had spoken. As she dried her face Wren's eyes have the wild look of a trapped animal. She took a deep breath to calm herself as she looked at her reflection in the mirror over the sink her eyes now haunted and sad.
There was a hint of desperation in her voice as she whimpered, "Oh Erika, what can we do? Nothing will change if the Professor will not stop this nonsense of Jewel's. He actually confided to me he is hoping the bonding ritual will bring some solidarity to the group." She frowned, her tone bitter as she added, "He dismisses me now that he is married to her."
"Why do you think that?" Erika gently asked. But she had known for some time that Wren was in love with the Professor and his marriage to Jewel devastated her. But for whatever reason, Wren would not confide her feelings to her friends, so she grieved alone.
By the Gods though, Erika admired Wren's strength. As heartbroken as the girl was, she did not let it affect her participation in the group. Erika had witnessed the chemistry between the older man and her friend and knew any connection the girl felt with their mentor had been returned. It became evident to Erika when she watched the Professor train Wren to take on the role of volva. As volva she would be their wand-carrier - the one who spoke in prophecy. According to the Professor, while it was the Norns who wove the threads of the fate of man, as volva, Wren could be trained to see the fate of everyone she saw. It was an intense process, but over the course of time, the two had developed an extraordinarily strong bond.
Erika never asked either about it, she just assumed the two would eventually figure it out on their own and things would work out. So, when the Professor returned with Jewel, no-one was more shocked than Wren but maybe Erika. Of course, it had only been a few weeks since the happy couple's return from the Justice of the Peace, but Erika nor her friends believed the marriage would
last.
Wren leaned close, tears now clouding her eyes as she whispered, "Something is wrong with him, Erika. With Jewel and with this whole scenario." Unable to control herself she made a mewling noise as her eyes filled with tears, "But without his help, I cannot discern what it is."
Reaching out to take Wren by the shoulders, Erika assured her friend. "It will be fine. We just need to stand together and refuse to do this ritual. I am sure if we explain why we feel this, he will understand."
Sighing deep, Wren plastered on a brave smile to mask the hurt. The unshed tears giving her different colored eyes glisten the appearance of jewels. "Come on, Velvet should be here soon. We can all talk with everyone once she arrives. In the meantime, let me get changed. I don’t want anyone to guess something is amiss."
As Wren changed clothes for the ritual, Erika watched on in stunned silence at her transformation. Wren's Finnish heritage was on full display as she proudly stood carrying an Ash branch covered in tiny bells. She was the very image of an ancient volva. A red fox tail collar trimmed the neck of the cloak she wore over a garnet red apron dress with white stitching. The vibrant colors matched her auburn hair which she wore pulled back on one side in a long braid adorned with silver rings. She had drawn a rune band across her nose with the same kohl eyeliner she used to trace her blue eye and amber eye. But it was the hand-carved fox pendant that stole the show. White with red garnet eyes, the necklace was the embodiment of her fox soul companion.
When the two women entered the living room, they found Rayne, Jim, Preacher, Papa Doc, Jewel, and Devonne sitting grim-faced watching the news. Erika glanced from Wren to Papa Doc. She wanted to see his reaction to her friend's transformation, but he looked wooden, an empty husk of his former self sitting there next to Jewel. Erika did not understand why if he were so happy, she could not see it in his eyes? Sure, he talked a good game but seeing was believing.
Tapestry of Worlds : Part One - The White Raven Awakens Page 3