by KC Bouma
Chapter One
It was the winter of 1692, and Boston, Massachusetts had endured the constant onslaught of nor’easters, more than the region had seen in quite some time. Yet, it didn’t stop the rare sickness that swept through the small town at a terrible speed, killing both humans and animals alike. The serious infection was thought to have been spread by the flea infested bison hides brought in by an Old Dutch fur trader. But, no one really cared how the Black Death arrived on their doorstep; the only thing on their minds was how to contain this deadly curse, the rarest and deadliest form of plague that they had ever seen. By the following spring, the plague had spread far north into Salem, where people called it The Curse of Darkness because the sickness came in the dead of night, consuming lives by the break of dawn. A terrible killer was loose across The New World, and medieval medicine had nothing to combat it.
Could their only hope come from healing magic, the magic that most had shunned? Was the beautiful woman that lived alone with her daughter on the banks of the Mystic River their only hope? And if so, would they all be damned for accepting what they thought was witchcraft?
Sa Rah’s hair hung long down her back, in dark black ringlets, skin the soft gold color of her Indian father, and light emerald green eyes, like her Irish mother. Her five-year-old daughter Clandess held the same striking appearance. It was said among the townsfolk that Sa Rah and her daughter were the devil’s spawn. Yet, most of the people of Salem didn’t care, as long as Sa Rah could put an end to the madness that now consumed them all, for death was knocking on each and every one of their doors.
Clandess sat in her mother’s arms, twirling one of her mother’s long black ringlets between her tiny fingers. Looking up, she said, “Mommy, read me one of your stories.”
Smiling back at her precious child, Sa Rah began to read the first few paragraphs from The Book of Lilly. She knew it was more than her small child could comprehend, but Clandess seemed to love and understand what the book was about.
Snuggling up to her mother, she could feel the words vibrate as Sa Rha read. “From generation to generation, through the spoken words of our ancient ancestors, the stories seem to grow as each mother spoke of the healing powers that she would one day pass down to her child.”
“Mommy, can you heal me if I get sick?”
“Fear not, my child, for I would never allow you to get sick.” Smiling, Clandess laid back down against her mother’s chest so she could hear the rest of the story.
“Your great-grandmother Abigale said to her daughter Nina. The herbs that I gathered, and the words I will teach you are stories of magic; not just any magic, but sacred healing magic. However, I must warn you, my dear child, the healing magic must remain a mystery to the outside world, for one day it is foretold by the grandmothers that death shall be bestowed upon the ones that practice the sacred healing ritual.”
“Mommy, is it bad to heal?” Kissing the top of her daughters head, Sa Rah replied, “No, my love, but some are afraid of what they don’t understand. Now, sit back so I can finish the story, for its past your bedtime.”
“Yet, the specter of death never stopped the women of our clan from passing down their stories.”
“Mommy, what does that mean?”
“It means, my darling, that one day I’ll add my stories to The Book of Lilly, as will you, and your daughter and hers. Now, let’s get you to bed.”
Sitting by the fire, Sa Rah contemplated what her story would hold. Would it tell of how she was unable to heal her own father as he lay in his dying bed, or how her mother’s crazy dreams drove her to the Mystic River where she took her own life?
Or would she tell of the magic she held the night Clandess was born?
As The Book of Lilly is passed down, you are asked to seek answers in your personal history, add to it your own story and find the threads of the patterns in your reality, and trace their length to the present. Perhaps you’ll be surprised by how much of your past, or that of your ancestors, still weaves its influence on you today.