‘You know how she is. She always attracts men, that hasn’t changed.’
‘Yeah, you didn’t get that from a stranger.’ Bridget curses herself, why on earth did she let that slip. It must be the shock. An awkward silence follows, then Maeve softly says ‘Wes is totally dedicated to you. You know that right?’
‘Yes. Yes of course. Please tell him I called.’
‘I will. Weren’t you coming home?’
‘We had to postpone our flight. We’ll let you know when we know more.’ Bridget disconnects. Talking to her sister had become so awkward. To think they used to finish each other’s sentences. Something to think about some other time. More pressing things wait for her around the corner.
She slips her phone back in her pocket, turns and bangs into an invisible wall. Agh! That hurt! Immediately, her head starts throbbing. That was the only thing missing. Careful she feels the wall, only now she noticed it’s total silence. A little voice inside her head snarls ‘You have to use your senses! How many times do I need to tell you that?’ Another growl escapes her, and she comes full circle feeling the wall all around. She’s stuck in an invisible dome of about three feet wide. Peachy. Slowly, she breathes in and out in an attempt to calm herself. When she’s back in New Orleans, she needs to talk to Ceri about timing. A headache seems to spread. Does it feel like it’s hard to breathe? Panicked she looks around. Shit, it’s a true dome, not only keeping things out but apparently, it’s sealed or something. Quickly, she texts Ceri ‘What the hell. You’re trying to suffocate me.’ An almost instant reply from her Auntie; ‘Don’t waste your precious time texting me. DO SOMETHING!’
Bridget shouts at her frustration, which doesn’t help either. Again she breathes in, out, in, out and finally, she starts to use her brain. She spread her arms, so she can touch the invisible wall on both sides, and she pours her witch sense out through them. Like a spider in a web, it feels the wall and quickly finding little inconsistencies in the structure. Like ivy roots, her witch sense wiggles itself into these tiny, vulnerable spots and pushes and pushes. At first, nothing happens. Bridget doubles her efforts. A soft noise as if glass is breaking, then cracks appear in the dome. She smiles. A bit more, she pushes even harder. A loud crack and the dome completely shatters. Ha! She did it! Ping.
A message from Ceri, ‘Took way too long.’ With a sad emoticon attached.
‘I was a little busy.’ Bounces Bridget back.
‘Excuses. Excuses.’ With a rolling eye emoticon.
No need to respond to that. When Bridget walks back over. Luna and Tom are having a heated discussion, despite that they’re whispering,
‘I’m not calming down. Her eyes were burned out! For Christ’s sake!’
‘I know. I know.’ Luna lays a calming hand on Tom’s arm. Bridget noticed she doesn’t use her powers; they have some sort of connection. What is going on between these two?
‘Tom, do you mind giving me a moment with my daughter.’ Says Luna.
‘Of course, I’m going back to the station. See you there?’ This apparently warrants a full wattage smile from Luna. Tom blushes and walks off.
‘Seriously Mom, what about Dad?’
‘It’s nothing. I’ve been thinking. You should head to New Orleans.’
‘I don’t think so; we need to take care of Hayes.’
‘I will take care of her. There’s nothing else for you here. You need to go back. Work on Tara, she seems to trust you. Sort of. We need to know more about this Lucy.’
Bridget looks at her in disbelief. ‘I can’t leave; I need to fix this.’
‘It’s too late for that.’ That’s another slap in her face from her mother. As if she doesn’t blame herself enough. Just once can’t her mother make her feel better instead of rubbing it in? ‘You go home.’
‘Stop being a brat. Think. It’s the best way. I can take care of Hayes and her spell. There’s nothing we can do for her eyes.’
Unwillingly, tears well up in Bridget’s eyes. She and Luna have a stare down. Bridget looks away. ‘Fine. Why don’t you give me the little book? It’s apparently precious, and we don’t want it to end up in Lucy’s hands again. We should give it to Tara, she’ll know what to do with it.’
Luna takes a step back and puts a protective hand on her pocket. ‘What if Lucy tries to get it back? You’re no match for her.’
‘And you are?’
‘Like it or not. I’m a very capable witch. How long did it take you this time to get out of Ceri’s little assignment?’ Bridget would love to wring her mother’s neck right now. What a bitch! But instead, she just turns around and stalks off.
Luna watches her daughter go until she disappears around the corner. They always had a hard time communicating, probably because Bridget is a lot like her. Two strong personalities butting heads. She’s sure though her daughter will grow into a formidable witch if she finally can accept whom she really is. Till then… with a big sigh, she heads towards the station.
Lucy is fuming in the car. ‘Those arrogant witches stole my book. I’m sure of it now.’
‘Do you want me to get it back for you?’ Lucy flicks her hand against the back of his head. ‘Use your brain, for once. I’ll do it when the time is right. They’ll be on their guard now.’
It’s time for her to focus on the Dagger and attune herself to it. Once she has that additional power, these women don’t stand a chance. She’ll be so strong. Ha! Then she’ll teach them a lesson.
‘Drop me off at the airport. You can drive to Utah, and I will catch up with you there.’
‘Where are you going?’ Cal expects to be slapped again, but in a rare moment of sharing Lucy replies, ‘I’m going to London. I need to find a way to attune to the Dagger, and I can’t seem to find anything here. I’m sure I will be able to find something useful in the old country.’
‘Is there anything else I can do?’
‘Contact your Dad and tell him to come to Utah.’
‘Set?!’ This is not going to happen; his father stays far away from his mother.
‘Do you have another Dad? Make it happen. And tell Mara to prep the house for me.’
Mara has always been her Grandmother’s favorite and is free to roam where ever she wanted to go. He resents his sister for that; she never helped him with anything.
‘As you wish.’
NEW ORLEANS
Wes’ face lights up when he sees Bridget coming out of the airport.
‘Over here!’ He waves, and the dogs start barking. Bridget rushes over and hugs him fiercely. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I thought you were having fun with your Mom.’ Bridget rolls her eyes. ‘Sure.’ Moon sticks his head through the open window and slobbers over her face. She takes her time to say a proper hello to all the dogs.
‘They’ve missed you too,’ says Wes while he snuggles up behind Bridget and nuzzles her neck. He kisses her cheek, she turns in his arms, and she takes her time to show him just how much she has missed him. When she comes up for air, a shaky laugh escapes her. ‘Let’s go home.’
‘Home?’ Wes’ eyes twinkle with the thought of their new home.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘This house is an amazing place, I did so much in a couple of days, I can’t wait to show you.’ Absentmindedly, he fidgets with something around his neck.
‘It’s filled with magic for many generations, it’s a special place.’ As if that explains anything. In all honesty, she knows what he means, but can’t really put it into words. It is a special place. She zones in on the amulet around Wes’ neck. Slowly, she takes it from him and feels the familiar medallion. It’s gold, and it has a stag head on it. It used to be Seamus’ favorite piece of magical jewelry.
‘Tara gave it to me. She thought it would give me inspiration.’
‘Did she now?!’ Bridget has a hard time keepin
g the envy out of her voice. She had a strong connection with Seamus, and after he passed, she had hoped Tara would give it to her. Wes picks up on her tension. ‘Is that okay?’
‘Of course. I’m glad you get along with my Grandmother.’ To get the sting out of her words, she gives him another kiss. ‘Now, let’s go.’
Bridget wades through the lavender, bees are buzzing, and butterflies are everywhere. This is how a witch garden should feel, wholesome, full of life. Especially this time of year when everything is blooming it’s invigorating. It replenishes the soul. For a moment she takes the time to breathe in deeply, let the smells swirl around her, the sun in her face, the connection to the earth is strong. She swears she can feel the light seep in and make her stronger. This is the joy of being unique. A smile touches her lips.
It vanishes in a flash when she recognizes the familiar piercing voice of Freya. ‘She’s waiting for you.’ When she’s opening her eyes, her Aunt is there, sizing her up.
‘Aunt Freya, what a surprise!’
Freya brushes her hand through the lavender and takes in the fragrance of the flowers. ‘Did you find anything out, detective?’ The sarcasm is not lost on Bridget.
‘Lucy’s house burned down.’
‘How convenient. Where is your lovely mother?’
‘She’s taking care of something in Boston and then, she’ll be back.’
‘I bet she is,’ says Freya with the most insincere smile.
‘Tara has been asking for you. You’re her new favorite now. Take care. It never lasts long.’ With those ominous parting words, Freya leaves. What the hell was that all about? Bridget has a feeling she missed the real message here. She’s out of practice with all the family drama, that’s clear. Ah well, one problem at a time.
Tara is harvesting the calendula. Her basket is full of the cheerful orange flower. Bridget always has a pot at home for scrapes and burns. Nothing, however, is as powerful as the crème Tara makes. It seems to amplify the already powerful healing qualities of the plant. She has to snag a pot. The last couple of days seem to have done Tara good. She looks rested and more like her old self. Bridget observes her grandmother for a while. ‘Do I pass your scrutiny?’ asks Tara with a smile. ‘Did you have a good flight back? I never understand the joys of traveling in a clunky piece of metal. I prefer my broom any day.’
‘I could argue that one, but it’s good to see you’re feeling better. Do you need a hand?’
Tara gets up, painfully slow. It’s clear her knees are bothering her. When Bridget tries to help her, she waves her off. ‘Let’s take a walk.’ Tara motions her forward. They leave the herb garden, and once they’re through the gate, Bridget playfully sticks her arm behind Tara’s arm, so she gets the feeling Bridget just wants to be close, while she actually supports her a little while they walk. For the moment, they enjoy each other’s company and the pleasures of a walk through the garden.
‘Did you see her?’ A hint of eagerness comes through Tara’s question.
‘Not really, she took off when we saw her. She’s evil Grandma. I’m sorry. If you had seen her house. The souls that Luna freed.’ An involuntary shudder escapes Bridget.
Tara faces Bridget. ‘Tell me what happened.’
Bridget explains the horrible table, the dark things they saw in the house and the whole oppressive atmosphere. The wicked garden. ‘And I took a little book. It seems to contain dark spells.’ Tara looks alarmed. ‘Where is it? You didn’t use it, did you?’
Bridget takes a step back and is a little bit thrown off by the force of Tara’s reaction.
‘Luna has it. She wants to study it, to use it against Lucy.’ A sigh escapes Tara. ‘Luna can handle it.’
‘I’m worried Grandma, what if she gets tainted or something by dark magic. Or she gets over to the dark side. She seemed VERY interested.’
‘This is not a movie, Bridget. Your mother is the most capable witch I know. She’ll keep it safe. And who knows, maybe she will find something in there that’s of use for us.’ That seems to be the end of that discussion. But Bridget can’t shake the uneasy feeling she’s getting. Everybody thinks her mother is fantastic, but she has seen her dark side. It’s there.
Bridget follows Tara through the wooded area, into the clearing with the tomb. It never ceases to amaze Bridget. How it can look so ordinary on the outside and such a vast space on the inside. Tara motions her to follow her in.
The torches flare to life, and the light plays along the walls. Bridget follows the circle of the tombs, her hand touching them as she walks by. Whispers come from the caskets. She lets them flow over her. It seems they recognize her and welcome her back. When she’s almost full circle, she comes to an empty spot. Tara walks up, and they both stare at the empty space. ‘I’ll be there soon.’
‘Stop it! You’re in excellent health.’ But when she turns to Tara, she sees that age and the worry have taken their toll.
‘I’ve never been one for fooling myself. Or at least that what I thought till now.’ A heavy sigh escapes her, and she tries to stand as straight up as her age allows her.
‘These are our ancestors, and this is our sacred place. They’re here to guide you.’
For a moment the whispers intensify, and it’s almost like invisible hands caress her. What’s going on? It’s like something magical had happened and she missed the meaning of it.
‘What just happened Grandma?’
‘I’ve marked you. It’s the first step.’
‘A first step of what?!’ This is starting to freak her out.
‘Somebody will need to guide the family when I’m gone.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘You’re the chosen.’
‘Hell, no.’ Bridget is so not buying this, she moves towards the exit, but the tomb door closes with a loud thud.
‘Let me go, Gran. Choose Maeve, she’s always the sensible voice, or my mother, she’s the most powerful witch in the family, after all.’ Tara glides over until she stands in front of her.
‘Strength is not about who has the most power. It’s about strength in here.’ Tara touches Bridget’s heart. For a moment, the sun seems to shine from there.
‘What the fuck?!’ Startled, Bridget backs up.
‘See,’ smiles Tara ‘I’m right. Or rather Seamus had recognized it long ago and chose the Strength card for you.’
‘Nobody will ever listen to me Gran, they hate me.’ A small smile plays along Tara’s lips. ‘They don’t hate you, honey.’
‘Anyway, I’m not it. The chosen or whatever you call it. I don’t even want this life.’
‘Right.’ Tara turns around and heads for the center with the altar. She knew Bridget would resist, but the first step is taken, she has planted the seed.
The family chronicles, their heritage, the book of shadows lays on the altar. Tara holds her hand on the cover. ‘I want you to study this. I think there is a lot here that can tell us about the elements and hopefully can give us an idea of what Lucy is after.’
‘I thought she was erased from there.’
‘She is, but it contains a lot of knowledge, and with your police skills, I think you can have a different perspective on things. We need to use all the skills that we have. A storm is brewing, and we need to be prepared.’
‘I know; it feels like she’s twenty steps ahead of us.’ The lights flare up for a second, Bridget immediately scans the surrounding.
‘It’s okay,’ says Tara. ‘It’s the ancestors, they are letting you know they agree. Another thing that we need to do is to try to locate the other two families and warn them.’
Bridget looks dubious ‘That could also expose them. Their anonymity keeps them safe.’
‘If Lucy could find the family that guarded the Dagger, she can find the others. They need to be warned.’
‘We need names
if we want to track them.’
Tara points to the book. ‘There are no names, but it gives you a good idea where to start.’
‘Why don’t you just tell me and save me the time?’ Tara flashes her one of her mysterious smiles. ‘Seriously, Gran. One of these days you’ll realize your silence comes with a big price.’ Tara’s smile transforms into anger in a second. The voices in the coffins rise in volume. ‘I am still the head of the family.’ Bridget takes a step back and put her hands up in surrender. Her Granny can still look scary as fuck. It feels like an overreaction; she must have hit a sensitive point. She files that away for future consideration. The anger dissipates, and Tara looks like her sweet Granny once more. For a moment they just stare at each other. Again, Bridget has a feeling she’s missing what Tara wants to say here. ‘Open your senses,’ whispers her Aunt Ceri in her head. Bridget stands still and imagines herself opening up to sounds, smells, feelings, touch. Only then does she feel Tara’s vulnerability, her fears, and desperation. ‘Oh Gran.’
A door slams shut. Tara had left the tomb without another word.
The voices chatter away at her. ‘I know, but she needs to understand that she has to share information. We’re at a disadvantage as it is, and Tara is telling us far from everything.’ A big smile dawns on her face. ‘I can understand you!’ The chatter answers. A big laugh fills the tomb, her senses are still open, and it is amazing. In her head, she thanks Ceri. Finally, some improvement. Now it’s time to get to work. She opens the Grimoire and starts reading.
LONDON
In the meantime, Lucy arrived in London and sits deep inside the catacombs of the British Library. The modern exterior can fool you, but in the archives, there are some ancient manuscripts. One of Lucy’s many connections and a significant bribe had landed her at this hour in complete privacy, examining a pile of old papers which you usually would not be able to consult without a clean room and a curator by your side. Somewhere in these books, she must be able to find a way to attune herself to a magical object. She wishes she wasn’t in a hurry; there are so many exciting things in here. If she can ever find the time, she must come back and properly study them. The modern witch has lost so much knowledge. Time to focus. She wants to get the extra power that the Dagger offers and teach those Madigans a lesson.
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