‘I never thought I would say this, but I think Luna is right. She holds too many secrets.’ Sighs Bridget. ‘How can we get her to open up?’ She hopes Diane could give them guidance in that. After all, she can see the future.
‘Don’t look at me. I’ve never had a very close bond with my mother. It’s up to you girls now.’
‘Great thanks.’ Bridget and Maeve say in union. That makes them laugh, and the tension that has been hanging in the room disappears at last.
UTAH
Late that day, Lucy’s plane touches down in Salt Lake City. Well rested from her first class flight, she breezes out of the airport and spots Mara. A warm smile forms on her face. She loves Mara, such a gifted witch, wickedly beautiful and the perfect student. One day, she will be able to wield the legacy. Lucy walks over to the car, and they embrace. This time, Lucy takes the front seat; it’s time to catch up with her granddaughter.
‘Grandma, did you get a chance to sleep?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. How are you? You have to fill me in on what happened since the last time I saw you. And then, I need to deal with this.’ She holds up her big purse.
Soon, they reach the house. When Lucy approaches it, it’s humming. Perfect, Mara did, of course, an excellent job in getting it ready. This house contains a lot of power. It took her a long time to get permission to build it right on this spot. But oh, it was worth it. She can’t wait, she mumbles a spell and the door swings open. Mara has to hurry to catch up before the door falls shut behind Lucy.
Lucy descends down the concrete steps to the ground level with the pentagram in a circle, with all the symbols etched in the floor. She drops her bag on the floor, walks to the wall and pushes a button. The walls slide apart, revealing endless shelves filled with witch supplies. With a snap of her finger, she activates all the lights in the basement, a soft ambiance. From her bag, she pulls an old manuscript. Gently she opens it and starts to search for the right page. Here it is! It’s so hard not to try to rush, but she needs to make sure she does everything right.
‘Can I help you with anything?’ Lucy startles, as for a moment she had totally forgotten Mara. ‘No dear, you’ve done enough. Leave me.’
Mara is disappointed. ‘Do you mind if I look?’ For a moment, Lucy considers this. ‘It’s better if I’m alone.’
‘Please, maybe I can learn something.’ Lucy doesn’t look up but flicks her wrist, and Mara feels a slap in the face. Her cheek turns an angry red.
‘Sorry grandma.’ Slowly she backs out of the room.
‘And shut the door.’
Quietly, the door clicks shut behind Mara. Quickly Lucy mumbles a small spell to make sure she stays alone. She doesn’t blame her granddaughter for trying, but she can’t have anybody involved in this. This power is not meant to be shared.
For a couple of hours, she’s totally engrossed in reading the spell, again and again, so she can recite it without thinking. She also gathered a long line of ingredients. It is time to get ready. In the far corner, there is a bathroom with a big bathtub in the middle. A dragon tap hangs above the middle of the bath. She turns it on and feels if the temperature is right. While the water flows into the tub, she generously adds sea salt. Time to do a cleanse before the ritual. When the tub is full, she undresses and slowly lowers herself in the water. It feels so good to soak her old bones. All that traveling takes its toll. Where have the days gone when she could do anything? She hates getting older and this sagging body. One of the reasons she didn’t want her granddaughter around. This body doesn’t radiate power anymore. It feels more like decay. The ritual needs to be performed naked. Being as pure as possible is important. Lucy closes her eyes and clears her mind of any thought. Easier said than done, it’s always a challenge to empty the mind. One by one, she lets her thoughts soak into the water until she peacefully floats in the tub. She has no idea for how long, but the water is starting to cool when she opens her eyes. Quietly but with determination, she gets out, dries herself and throws on a loose white gown. Barefooted, she walks into the ritual room. This time she opts for matches to light all the candles she has placed around her magical circle. She starts at the candle placed on the northern side of the circle, and moving clockwise lights thirteen candles. She lets her gown fall to the ground and stands stark naked, then she steps into the center of her power circle. It hums with recognition. Empty, clean and quiet, she feels the ley lines collide under her and the power flow that makes this house so special. Time to put it to good use. Before the bath, she had carefully placed all the tools for her ritual in the designated spots. She kneels in the middle of the circle before the Dagger and raises her hands to the sky while she calls in old English on the elements to guard her circle. The circle snaps shut, and the power in the circle starts to build. No longer able to flow freely, it mounts up. Lucy lowers her arms and bows down till her forehead touches the stone. In the meantime, she starts to recite the spell, it’s an old text she found in one of the manuscripts, and Lucy’s hoping she pronounces the old words right. It’s not her style to bow down for anything, but she needs to be able to attune to the Dagger, whatever it takes. Quickly, she directs her wandering thoughts back to the rhythm and power of the words. It’s getting hotter and hotter in the circle and sweat starts to pour down her back and face. Her knees ache, and she’s having a tough time staying in this pose. A wind swirls inside the boundaries and seems to go faster and faster. Slowly it becomes smaller and smaller and starts to close in Lucy and the Dagger. The sound is overwhelming and soon drowns out the discomfort and pain. Lucy struggles to squash her natural instinct to react. She must submit to the power if she wants to receive it. Momentarily, she glances up, and an angry wind slaps her face drawing blood. Quickly, she bows her head again, but not before she sees the Dagger floating before her. The spell is in motion, and there’s no stopping now. It’s nerve-wracking not to know what comes next. She has always found it difficult to be passive and let things unfold. She feels a prick of the dagger at the top of her spine. It takes everything she’s got, every ounce of self-control to let it happen. The dagger makes a shallow cut from the top of her spine to the bottom of her back, Lucy screams! Pain shoots through her, and she feels drips of blood going down the sides of her back. Invisible hands pull her straight, still on her knees, but it seems as if she’s being held up high. The Dagger hovers in front of her. The tip of the Dagger is pointing at her heart, she couldn’t do anything, even if she tried. The wind blows so fiercely she can’t really see anything. The tip comes closer and closer. She can’t help herself, and screams into the storm. The tip touches her skin, and she feels its pressure in drawing blood. The Dagger collects some of Lucy’s blood while it withdraws. Relieved, Lucy sags into the power, she is held up by the power of air. Finally surrendering, the tip of the Dagger touches her mouth; she opens her mouth and feels a bit of her own blood touching her lips. As the Dagger withdraws, she swallows, and from the inside out, she feels a tornado forming inside her body, her insides are being torn to bits. It’s like she has exploded into a million pieces and is twirling on the wind inside the circle. She has no idea how long she’s in this state but all of a sudden, the wind stops, and it’s like her body has been knit back together. Exhausted, she falls to the floor. She rolls over onto her back and laughs. It worked! The power of air hums in her veins. For a moment, she let herself enjoy the power rush. It seems to ebb to a feeling of content. It will take a while to get acquainted with her new friend.
Her body starts to ache in places she never knew could hurt. She’s unable to get up. With a flick of her wrist, she opens the door to the basement and sends out a call to her granddaughter. Mara comes rushing down and finds Lucy in the middle of the circle on her side, the Dagger in her hand. Blood splattered around and the whole basement in disarray. ‘Gran are you okay?!’ Lucy turns on her back and laughs.
‘Yes. More than okay.’ Mara learned early on not to ask questions. ‘Bring
me to my room. I need to rest.’ Mara helps Lucy up. There are no visible wounds anymore on Lucy’s body although she’s smeared with blood.
NEW ORLEANS
Tara startles awake. The remnants of the power rush have touched her as well. Apparently, the power of the twin bond is not as forgotten as she thought. For a moment, she feels euphoric but quickly realizes it’s not her own. She recognizes the feeling; she had that same feeling a long time ago. Lucy has attuned herself to the Dagger. For the first time, she wonders how much Lucy has felt from her power over the years. With a big sigh, Tara gets up. Not a chance of going back to sleep now. Better to put this energy to good use. Nothing good can come of Lucy handling one of the power objects. She’s always been a very gifted witch, but now she’s becoming seriously powerful. Hopefully, Luna can find the other families soon. She needs help, guidance; it would be so good to be able to discuss the experience with someone else. Sometimes, that’s worth taking the risk of getting together. What is she going to do?
SALEM
Luna and Tom make their way through the streets of Salem. Even though it’s all geared towards tourism, the roads radiate magic. Once, there were a lot of real witches in this town. Magic leaves a residue even if it’s not practiced as often anymore. A shop window draws Luna’s attention. It lacks any trinkets and has herbs, wands, candles and more for your witches needs. Clearly, there are still some real witches here. She resists the temptation to check them out. Today is not a good day to socialize or draw attention to herself. Quickly, she pulls the protection spell she made this morning a little tighter around her. Tom doesn’t notice a thing. He can’t hide his cynicism about the witch town. For the first time, she feels the need to tell him who she really is, wondering if he would be able to accept it or that he will cut and run. When she flashes back on their lovemaking, an involuntarily pleasurable shudder goes through her. Tom knows all too well what that means, he gives her a quick kiss. Maybe she should wait a little longer before she opens up to him.
Here they are, Salem’s town hall. The cheerful green doors are smiling at them. The two-story building is made of bricks, and their rounded windows make it an inviting place. Confident, they walk up the steps.
Luna had apparently forgotten the pleasures of bureaucracy, and she struggles not to use her gift. Better let Tom handle this. As it turns out, the police badge is pretty magical. After some back and forth, the lady agrees they can examine two old books themselves, which is highly irregular. Tom’s badge and his charm made it happen.
The smell of dust and a hint of mold fill the catacombs. This entirely lives up to the expectation. It’s kept clean, but in a basement like this, it is hard to prevent mold and keep rodents out. They follow the lady, and she points at some old bundles safely stacked on a shelf, behind glass.
‘These ones are it.’ She produces a couple of pairs of soft white gloves. ‘Please use these. In the middle is a clean room, it’s best to open them there. You have an hour.’
‘Thank you. We really appreciate it,’ replies Tom. She had already marched away down the row of bookcases.
He sighs ‘Let’s do it.’
Carefully they open the glass door in front of the shelves. It gives a little sigh as it hasn’t been open in a while and the pressure inside seems to be slightly different. Luna gently takes the two ancient volumes off the shelf. In the clean room they sit down, and each take a volume and start searching for clues that could help them to find the other families. They look for dates around 1780 and with Bridget’s information of their true name, the odds of finding the names the families took are in their favor.
UTAH
Lucy finally wakes up. She has no idea what time it is; the blinds are drawn. The rush of power of last night returns and with great joy, she revels in the power of the element of air that runs now through her veins. Her mother never mentioned the instant growth of power. If you wield the object or not. So, the whole ‘we should never use the objects’ is a bunch of bullshit. It is simply a part of you, it makes her feel invigorated, and she can’t wait to try out her new-found powers.
First, a shower as she’s still dirty and naked. The blood has clotted; her sheets look like she’d been murdered in her bed. Why didn’t Mara bathe her? It seems she needs to have a word with her. This, however, can’t possibly dampen her good mood.
The room is the total opposite of Tara’s bedroom, it’s stark and functional, nothing personal on the walls. A nun’s quarters come to mind, except for the bed, which is a California King with soft cotton-linen sheets, and a frame made of steel. Like the table in her other house, it seems to be sculptured out of tortured souls.
Her bathroom is spacious and has a huge walk-in shower. Lucy lets the rain shower wash her clean. This grounds her, and she feels the power of air trying to lift her up. But it’s not the time to act on impulse. The Madigans must have her book, that’s the only logical possibility left if it’s not in the police station. Time to lure them out. While she dries herself and gets dressed, a plan takes form in her mind. Surprised, she looks at herself. Blue? She had dressed in blue; she didn’t even know her wardrobe had any color in it. She’s more affected than she thought by her new powers.
NEW ORLEANS
Tara is hiding in her refuge, her herb garden. The feel of the structure of the leaves and flowers, their smell, it helps to calm her. She’s still reeling from the power rush that she got through her bond with Lucy and the concern she feels for what is to come. Apparently, she will not have the luxury of collecting herself, as her twin granddaughters are marching towards her. They don’t seem happy with whatever Diane told them. Clearly, they finally worked up the courage to confront her. That extra power might come in handy. She loves her granddaughters, but she’s still the head of the family.
The dogs are trailing along. It’s so good to see the girls together. There is still a lot to sort out between them. Quickly, she sends a little wish out into the universe. A desire that they will be able to sort out their differences and enjoy the pleasures of being a twin. Not have to suffer the endless sense of loss, like an amputated limb. Tara never got over losing Lucy like she did. The little secret meetings they had over the years didn’t come even close to being able to have a healthy relationship. She’s always been convinced there is still good in Lucy, if she only got a chance to prove it. But now Lucy has one of the elemental powers attuned to her. Nobody knows what she will do. If only she could talk to her. Hug her, be close to her, look into her soul. She’s her sister, her twin, she knows she can reach the real Lucy. Not this power hungry, bitter old lady. The girls stopped just outside the gate and watch their Grandmother, uncertain if they’re welcome in the garden. They must have picked up on her doubts and discomfort. It can be so irritating to be a witch and be more attuned to feelings and moods. Quickly she rebuilds her shield around her, stupid to have let it slip. This is no time to be sloppy or to give into her old woman’s regrets. She needs to be there for her family. When she looks up, she’s ready for what is to come.
A raven lands on the fence surrounding the garden. Tara, Bridget, and Maeve instantly know this is not an ordinary bird. The girls try to get a sense, but Tara knows who has sent this bird, and she raises her hand to cast a spell to throw a circle around her and the bird. She doesn’t want her granddaughters to hear what this bird has to say. Before the incantation can leave her lips, it feels like a hand is clamped over her mouth and her hands are glued to her side. If she weren’t so pissed, she would have admired the girls’ spirit, and be proud of Bridget’s improved reflexes. Now there is no escape, the bird starts to speak, perfectly mimicking Lucy’s voice. ‘Meet me tomorrow at noon at Tsé Bit’a í, Shiprock. We need to talk.’ Not wasting any time, the bird takes flight. When Tara faces her granddaughters, Bridget shows her, her impassive cop face but Maeve looks genuinely hurt.
‘Care to elaborate on that?’ Bridget can barely contain her fury. ‘How oft
en have you met?’
‘Not often enough,’ says Tara, resigned that a particular genie is out of the bottle.
‘You lied,’ stammers Maeve.
‘I didn’t lie, I just never mentioned it. What would you do if someone forbade you to see your twin?’
Maeve’s voice is full of anguish and pain when she replies. ‘Nothing. Mine did it voluntarily. For years.’ Ashamed, Bridget turns away. Not able to face that pain. The silence stretches and is quickly becoming uncomfortable. Finally, Tara glances around, ‘Let’s go inside, I don’t want to discuss this out in the open.’ Without another word, they make their way back to the house.
Tara has hardly closed the door to the kitchen when Bridget turns on her. ‘You better start talking! You’ve been holding back information on a suspect wanted by the police.’
‘I didn’t lie when I told you I don’t know where she lives. We never talk about such things.’
‘How often do you…’ Maeve waves her hand as if she can’t think of Lucy’s name, ‘…meet?’
‘At first, we met almost every year, but we haven’t been in touch for several years now.’
No need to mention she had tried to reach Lucy when this all started.
‘We’re going with you this time,’ says Bridget with a certainty that doesn’t leave any options.
‘We’re not going. It’s a trap.’
‘She might want to touch base with you after all that has been going on. This is our chance to catch her.’ Bridget feels for her phone. ‘I need to call Tom.’
‘Lucy has attuned herself to the Dagger.’ Bridget’s finger freezes above the Phone. Tara thought she couldn’t see Maeve any more disappointed than she already was. But she was wrong.
‘And how do you know that?’ Bridget searches for any clues on Tara’s face.
‘I felt it, through our bond. I only know what it meant as I felt that same power rush many years ago when the Wand became mine.’
The Dagger Page 18