BOSTON
Luna wanders through Bridget’s house. What a treat to be able to see her daughter’s life through her home. It’s painfully obvious she’s been trying to be normal. But once a witch, always a witch. Her connection with animals seems to have grown. Her herb plants in her kitchen window sill garden are flourishing. The paintings on the wall, all represent some form of nature or animal instinct. The wild and untamed feelings are bubbling beneath the surface. There is much more to Bridget than she wants to let on. It’s sad, but Luna is almost sure that Bridget will never forgive her for what happened. Maybe she shouldn’t have used her power on her. Teenagers just have a knack for getting under your skin and pushing you to your limits. Probably still not an excuse, but she had hoped that once Bridget grew up, she would see that her mother meant no harm. After three rounds through the house, she sits down on the couch and gets Lucy’s spellbook out. You can almost see the virulence and anger drip from the cover. For a moment, she hesitates and contemplates whether she might need some gloves. Really, Luna, get a grip. It’s magical, no glove can stop that. She fingers the amulet around her neck for comfort. She left it on after they went into Lucy’s house. That should give her enough protection.
The first couple of pages are filled with doodles and drawings, here the handwriting gives the impression to be that of a younger person. No concrete spells, more explorations and thoughts. Luna takes her time to look at them, from different angles, with her witch sight. Making any real sense of it is hard. This younger Lucy seemed to have been searching for who she is. Luna’s phone pings. Without her noticing, several hours had passed. It’s a text from Tom. ‘Want some company?’
She smiles, she should say no. Then again, he’s cute, and they have a connection. He can also tell her more about her daughter and let’s face it, it’s been a long time since she felt wanted. Lusted after. ‘Would love to.’ She sends back.
NEW ORLEANS
It’s dark by the time Bridget leaves the tomb. She had made a lot of notes in her little book, and there is much to discuss. The family home beckons. It’s strange how she still calls this home. Boston should be home. It is her home, although for the moment, her job hangs in the balance. She messed that up big time. And Tom and Luna, she doesn’t even want to think about that. When she passes the kitchen window, she can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. The table is set, and Wes sits at the table with Maeve and Tara, they’re having a natural conversation. She knows she doesn’t have any reason to suspect Maeve of snatching her boyfriend, but Maeve would make Angelina Jolie insecure. They’re apparently waiting for her, so time to face them all.
An intoxicating smell overwhelms her like there’s somebody with an overwhelming amount of perfume around. Bridget’s witch senses are still open after her long hours in the tomb. Immediately she recognizes Ceri’s work. Without hesitation, she weaves a counter spell. The smell evaporates on the evening breezes. And of course, her cell phone pings. ‘Excellent job.’ She smiles, it’s been a revelation today, to have her witch senses in full swing. Can she always be this alert? Maybe, it’s time for another chat with her Aunt. But first food!
The warmth of the people in the kitchen opens up and draws her in. Tara gives her a smile, Wes gets up and gives her a gentle kiss, and even Maeve looks happy for her. Maybe she was too quick to judge or to be paranoid. Bridget is happy she can finally sit down on one of the chairs, while Maeve puts a big salad on the table. From the oven, she pulls something wrapped in aluminum foil. As she opens it up, the smell makes Bridget stomach grumbles. They all laugh. ‘Gosh, I must be ready for that!’ Once they have all filled their plates and filled the wine glasses, Tara turns to Bridget. ‘Did you find anything?’ Bridget raises her eyebrow. She knows her Grandmother must have known. Instead of arguing she replies, ‘I did. I’m sure the four witches that took the elemental objects were sisters.’
‘Then they all should have the same name, right?’ Asks Maeve ‘The woman that was murdered wasn’t called Madigan.’
‘What if I tell you that we weren’t called Madigan either.’
‘No. We always kept our mother’s name. That’s witch tradition.’ Counters Maeve. Bridget quickly shovels in a piece of salmon before she answers. ‘Our name is actually O’Seachnasaigh, or however, you pronounce that. I guess it’s Gaelic.’
She looks pointedly at Tara. ‘That’s right.’
‘You knew?’ Says Maeve to Tara. She just nods to confirm. Maeve is clearly shocked. Welcome to the real-world, sister, this is only one of the many secrets Tara is hiding from us.
‘It’s in the Book of Shadows, but you really have to look for it and read between the lines. I think they decided it was safer if they all changed their names and that they took the name from their husbands at the time. So that’s where we have to start if we want to find them.’
‘If they’re family, can’t we use our blood for a tracking spell?’
‘Don’t ask me. I’m out of practice.’ They both look at Tara for an answer.
‘I already tried that, I think it’s too many generations ago.’
‘Great Gran, when were you planning on sharing that tidbit of information?’ Maeve can’t hide her sarcasm. Tara just gives her one of her mysterious smiles. Bridget shakes her head. ‘Anyway. Luna is still in Boston, she could search the town records and see if she can find four sisters around…’ she checks her notes, ‘around 1780s. She can ask Tom to help her. I’m sure he will do that. He’s besotted with her.’ Now Bridget has a hard time hiding her irritation with her mother. Maeve picks up on it but decides to ignore it.
‘In the meantime, I think we should all brush up on our elemental magic, so we can know what to look for once Lucy starts to use the Dagger.’
‘Excellent idea! Why don’t you include Diane in these studies? She has excellent resources and is the most Air in our family.’ Adds Tara.
‘I’ll go and see her tomorrow about that.’ Maeve is happy to have a goal. Bridget shares her feeling. She’s also much better at being pro-active.
Wes had kept quiet throughout the discussion; the women seem to forget he’s here. He loves watching Bridget re-engaging with her family. She doesn’t seem to realize how big a part she actually is of this family. The food was fabulous, and now he just watches them and sips his wine. His creative energy bubbles up, how fortunate to find himself surrounded by these exceptional women.
UTAH
Up from Indian Cove by the Salt Lakes in Utah is Lucy’s house. The dry landscape of rocks and the occasional brush, feel alien and hostile. Upon an unnamed road, away from prying eyes, rises Lucy’s home. In every way, it’s a stark contrast with the Madigan’s family home. This house is built with only one purpose in mind, power. Right here the ley lines cross, the house’s specific position and unique design has been chosen with a single goal, to focus and contain that power. It’s made of steel and concrete, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, cozy about it. At first glance, you would say it lacks anything personal at all, but on second inspection, it’s obvious it reflects Lucy’s personality accurately. From the ominous cellars with a power circle and dark witch rituals to the enormous open room with what could be interpreted as a throne dominating that room. Shackles line the wall and one can only imagine what happened here, there are drains in the floor, and reddish-black stains surround them. Except for the throne, there is nowhere to sit. A skylight above the throne is the only light in here.
Mara wanders along the walls while she swings a large censer around, filled with their one-of-a-kind blend of herbs and incense to cleanse the house. She’s Cal’s older half-sister. Her father, Set, could never be faithful to one woman. Mara’s mother was one of New Orleans’ great voodoo priestesses. Her Creole heritage is clearly visible in her curves and her almost black eyes. It’s clear why she’s Lucy’s favorite, she’s a powerful witch and voodoo priestess herself, and she likes to gobble up any know
ledge Lucy is willing to share with her. Lucy only has to explain it once, and she’ll know how to do it. Unlike her brother, who’s a total oaf. What do you expect? His mother was one of those lovey-dovey new age dabblers. The devil only knows what her father saw in that woman. She completes her circle in the room when she’s back at the entrance. The house sighs, and it feels like a door opens to let the power wash over the house. For a moment she eyes the throne, why not?! Grandma isn’t here anyway, she’ll never know. Mara walks over and ever so gently takes a seat in the throne. It’s positioned above the power circle in the basement and precisely above the crossing of the ley lines. She feels the warmth travel up her spine. Very quickly she shields herself, to take in too much of this power could burn her up. No need to be stupid. Wow, this is a power rush. She jolts upright and jumps out of the throne when her phone buzzes. It’s a text from Lucy ‘I found what I’ve been looking for. Are you ready?’ She smiles, it is as if she knew Mara was in her seat. Granny doesn’t tolerate insubordination. Quickly she glances at the shackles and shudders.
‘I’m ready.’
BOSTON
The next morning, Luna wakes up in Bridget’s bed with a warm body snuggled up to her. Oh dear, her daughter will not be pleased. She smiles, as she actually couldn’t care less. Tom’s expert skills have left her sated and happy. It’s been a long time since she felt this full. Sex is good for the soul and for your magic. She feels the magic humming through her veins. Oh, this feels so good! Tom notices she’s awake, his hands slowly make their way down from her breast over her belly; she instantly reacts. The warmth grows between her legs, and a soft moan of anticipation escapes her. She feels Tom smile against the swell of her breasts where he kisses her, and his hand explores further down. Her phone rings. For a moment, she wants to ignore it, but her sixth sense is on high alert. Better take it. She tries to wiggle free.
‘Let it ring,’ says Tom while he holds her firm against him. She feels he’s ready and in no way, does he want to stop.
‘It’s Bridget.’
‘Shit.’ He lets her go. She manages to pick up before it goes to voicemail.
‘Morning. Were you still sleeping?’ Bridget’s voice sounds as if she has been awake for hours. ‘Yes, you’re actually waking me up. Must be the Boston air.’ Luna signals to Tom to be quiet. He is, but he snuggles back up to her and starts caressing her. Luna has a hard time sounding normal.
Bridget quickly explains what she found out.
‘Good for you, to finally get a secret out of Tara. I’ll ask Tom if he can help me and I’ll get back to you as soon as I know more.’
‘Great, Thanks.’ And Bridget hangs up. No bye Mom or love you. Ah well, at least she’s talking to her, it’s an improvement.
‘What was that all about?’ asks Tom while he pulls her close and his mouth hovers above hers. ‘We need to search some old records for some names.’
‘Right.’ And he covers her mouth and kisses her thoroughly. It seems they can spare some time for lovemaking first.
NEW ORLEANS
Bridget follows Maeve into Under the Witches Hat, the relaxed atmosphere washes over her. Even though it’s not ten o’clock yet, some people are having cocktails at the bar. Their umbrellas twirl, fizzy bubbles make little twinkles above their drinks. They giggle, and Ron gives them a wink. Easy music flows, the light globes float through the air, the fresh scent of rain on a mountain meadow fills the air. Ron is clearly pleased to see them. He motions them to follow him to the back.
The sun shines through the skylight in the back, and it makes for a stark contrast. Bridget has to blink a couple of times to adjust to the light. Diane is floating around, humming while she works on some kind of spell. For now, she either ignores the others or is simply not aware they’re there.
‘Perfect timing ladies!’ says Ron. ‘The first customers will be here in ten minutes. Three tarot readings, one Lenormand, and if I’m not mistaken, a love potion. But it seems Diane is working on that.’ As if on cue, Diane plops back onto the floor. ‘Glad you’re here,’ she adds.
‘We’re not staying; we were just here to ask you some things about elemental magic.’
‘We can do that in between.’ Invisible hands seem to guide Bridget to Tara’s workplace. ‘You can take Tara’s table,’ smiles Diane innocently. Ron has disappeared, and Maeve stands back and watches. Bridget sputters, but there is no escaping the gentle nudges from Diane. ‘If you do a couple of readings, I will tell you all you need to know.’
‘We don’t have much time.’
‘That’s not entirely true. The Hat sustains the family. While you’re here, you must pull your weight.’
‘Did you see something?!’ Diane gives her only a smile, there is no doubt she learned that from Tara. Bridget opens her mouth to protest when the door opens, and Ron ushers the first customers in.
Before Bridget knows it, she’s sitting behind Tara’s table shuffling a tarot deck. A young woman sits opposite her. With a heavy sigh, she falls back into her role as a tarot reader. It’s like riding a bike!
‘There’s no need to be nervous. Do you have a question?’ She tries to put the girl at ease. ‘I… I don’t know. Maybe if the man I’ve been dating will ask me to marry him?’
Some things never change. She starts a Celtic cross, when in doubt, always a good choice.
The time flies by and its afternoon before she realizes it. Four readings and she feels totally in control. She had forgotten how much she loves the cards. Enough of this, time to get what she came for. Somehow it’s hard to shake the nagging feeling of urgency that’s in the back of her mind. If she had learned something from being a detective, it’s that she should follow her instincts.
Diane sits behind the big table in the middle of the potion room. A large and very old looking manuscript lies in front of her. ‘Here,’ she points at the middle of the page. Bridget looks over her shoulder. ‘This is an essential part to understand the weaving of the elements. At first glance, it looks like they’re very different. But in nature, it rarely is just one element. They flow together.’ Bridget tries to make sense of the complicated drawing in front of her. She gets her cellphone out and snaps a picture of it. Diane shakes her head. ‘That’s not the same. Here.’ She reaches for Bridget’s hand and guides it towards the book. ‘Put your hand on it, feel it.’ Bridget gently puts her hand on the page. A rush of warmth, coolness, overwhelming smell, light, it’s hard to describe rushes up to her arm and threatens to overwhelm her. She snatches her hand back. ‘That book is alive.’
Maeve, in the meantime, shows her client out and joins the others.
‘Yes and no. There’s magic in this book and magic is always alive. You should have realized that by now. It’s as alive as the things around us. Almost like it’s an own organism, living among us. Some call it the Universe, but it’s only a name. Mother Earth, God, spirit, you name it, and the elements are part of that. We witches can tap into that energy and use it to weave spells, create protection, fly on a broom. Now try again and this time, try not to fight it. Let it wash over you and learn.’
‘I don’t know.’ Bridget doesn’t feel confident, and it’s hard for her to let her guard down. She likes to be in control.
‘Move over, I will do it,’ says Maeve. That’s just the little push that Bridget needs. So before Maeve can move in, she centers herself and puts her hand on the drawing. The overwhelming sensation washes over her, but instead of trying to stop it, this time she lets it fill her up. For a moment she fights the panic of being overpowered by the elements. The feel as if you’re drowning in water, while at the same time, warmth rushes through her, and an overwhelming scent makes her gag. The different elements seem to swirl through her body. One hand is frigid, while the other feels as if it’s on fire. Just when she thinks she can’t stand it any longer the elements seem to merge. For lack of better words, it feels like a swirl in the ce
nter of her body. The sensations dissipate, and knowledge fills her brain. Air, water, fire, and earth are one and four at the same time. Each has their own qualities and is powerful in its own right. When you merge the powers it will be infinite, the person wielding that power will be so terrifying as the elements don’t have the same moral conscience as people. Once you’re a part of all the elements, you will be disconnected.
‘Bridget. Bridget!’ Diane gently shakes her out of the trance. Carefully, she pulls her hand from the page. Bridget blinks. ‘Oh my God.’
‘Yes, it’s terrifying. Now you understand.’ Bridget slumps on a chair, unable to function.
‘Can I see?!’ asks Maeve eagerly. Bridget motions to go ahead.
Maeve puts her hand on it, and it looks like she freezes. Diane keeps an eye on her but makes sure not to touch her.
‘Is this normal?’ Bridget asks as she thinks it looks like Maeve has had some sort of attack.
‘I think so.’
‘You think so! Get her hand off that page!’ Bridget is surprised to find she feels very protective of Maeve.
‘Don’t!!!’ Diane swats Bridget hand away. ‘Once you start, you shouldn’t stop. It’s important she knows that as well.’ It’s torture to wait. Finally, Maeve’s head jerks back and forth and her eyes fly open. She lets go of the book. Bridget jumps up, and turns Maeve towards her and looks into her eyes. For a moment, the twin bond feels as of old. Complete understanding of what the other is thinking. Then the connection is broken, and Maeve steps out of Bridget reach.
‘This is not good. I understand now why they tried to hide it.’
‘There is much we don’t know.’ Says Diane. ‘I’ll search for more archives and try to see if somebody has written more about this.’
‘Tara has been so irresponsible!’ Maeve is agitated, this is maybe the first time ever she criticizes her grandmother.
The Dagger Page 17