by Starr West
“Seventeenth century herbal lore is like reading a foreign language,” I complained to Libby one day. Even with Libby’s insightful instruction, I couldn’t link this to my magick.
“I believe it’s all about surviving. I think it was written so that we would retain this knowledge and survive these times.”
“It didn’t save Mum.”
“No it didn’t. But you are alive and at the moment, that is the most important thing.”
It was during this conversation that I made a discovery, my first since learning to release energy. Libby was still talking about how the first daughter overcame amazing odds to record the prophecy, but her voice faded in the distance and I found myself standing in an old, unfamiliar forest. It was nothing like the rainforest that surrounded our house.
The cold was intense and I noticed that snow lay in drifts on the ground. A young woman walked toward me and I beckoned her to enter the house. I knew immediately what was troubling her, yet I asked her anyway. The foundation of the house was circular with only one room. A fire burned in the centre and smoke rose through an opening in the roof. Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling and lay in baskets scattered on the floor. There were no conveniences of any kind, but a small bed of straw and blankets, which occupied one side of the room.
It could have been a scene from a fairytale, but the cold was too bitter and the smells too intense for any fairytale. A mirror hung from the wall, the only thing reminiscent of a previous life. Glancing in the mirror, I saw a face that wasn’t mine.
“I’m sorry Libby, what did you say?”
“I was saying how horrible it would be to be shunned by your own family and living like that… Did you know that Hansel and Gretel were kidnapped by a hedge witch? Snow White’s stepmother was also a hedge witch. It’s no wonder people feared the likes of Mary Catherine.”
I was back in the room with Libby. “So?” Libby looked at me and waited. I realised she knew that something had just happened, or perhaps she thought I wasn’t listening.
“Oh, I’ve gotta go,” I said as I dashed out the door. No one questioned me when I dashed from the room anymore. I released the energy several times a day so it was now normal behaviour for me to run away with no notice. But I didn’t run because I had an urgent need to release the energy. I ran because something was different. The vision was different; no, it was more than a vision, it almost seemed real. It was as if I possessed Mary Catherine. The girl who visited the cottage was pregnant and came to me because she was unwed. I knew this before she even spoke. I gave her bayberries and angelica tea. I knew this. Then I gave her a pouch of powdered herbs that would prevent this happening again. “Just a pinch in the morning,” I said.
There was no need to release any energy because I had used the chaotic energy during the vision. I felt normal, my heart beat normally, my temperature, which had been feverish, was normal. I felt good. A rush of joy washed over me. I had just discovered another way to make constructive use of the energy.
As I raced back to the house, I considered whether I should tell Libby, but I quickly pushed this thought away. Secrets were the Darnell way, I guess, but the old Darnell way. The new Darnell way would have no secrets.
I revealed the unusual vision to Libby and told her of the unexpected result. She placed her hand on my forehead, checking for the feverish temperature. “Amazing, just amazing,” she said, reaching for my wrist and counting my pulse. “I would love to see this. To see one of the Darnell women receiving her prophecies.”
“I don’t really know how it happened. It could have been because I was reading about Mary Catherine, or maybe it was to teach me something. But it uses a lot of energy, so I have to wait for a while before I try it again.”
“There is nothing about bayberries or angelica being used for this purpose, so it didn’t come directly from the book. You were reading the prophecies so it’s obviously connected in some way.”
I thought it was connected too, but it would have to wait, for now.
Memories of the vision played in my mind. I remembered every herb used in the remedy, I could smell them as if I held them in my hand and taste the bitterness on my lips. I don’t know why the vision remained in my mind, replaying like a memory of my own life, or if it was important for another reason. I really hadn’t thought what I would do with this knowledge until I found myself standing at the gate of the herb garden, staring at the catch that held the gate closed. Libby had never banned me from the garden, just warned me that it was dangerous.
The catch was well oiled and slipped free with a gentle touch. The gate swung open on silent hinges, inviting me in. I hesitated for just a moment. What harm could come from this? Inside the fenced garden was a new assortment of herbs: golden flowers as big as saucers, blood red flowers as tiny as a thimble and everything in between. I recognised many, not because I knew them or because Libby had taught me their names, but because the vision had left them imprinted in my mind. Without thinking, I began collecting the plants for the remedy. Not all were here; some were common herbs from the garden that grew beside the vegetables and under fruit trees. When I finished, I shut the gate, surprised that everything I needed grew so happily in Libby’s garden, and headed toward the house.
In my room, I hung the leaves to dry, laid the flowers on a wire rack and placed berries in a china bowl. It wasn’t a secret, I would tell Libby I had been in her garden. She would know anyway, but I knew that many of these herbs shouldn’t be stored in the kitchen.
I watched the herbs dry and their leaves grow brittle. The flowers lost their petals and the berries shrivelled. It was perfect, exactly as I remembered. As the days passed, I wondered why I was making a remedy to prevent a pregnancy. It wasn’t something I would need anytime soon and probably wouldn’t use when the time came, but I seemed possessed by the vision and needed to complete what I had begun. Finally, after several days had passed, I ground the herbs into a fine powder and stored them in a calico bag. The smell was familiar and the taste of them on my tongue was bitter, but there was no way to know if they would work. There was a grim satisfaction, however, and feeling of accomplishment. Potentially, it could take a life, but still, I had done this on my own, and that was enough.
~~~
Everything changes, day changes into night, winter changes into spring and the moon waxes and wanes. We accept these changes without question because that’s the way things are and we have no control over them anyway. Nevertheless, it is harder to accept when the changes are more personal, when the extraordinary becomes a part of you and amazing things happen daily. It’s even harder accepting that you have no control over the changes.
Questions about the visions would have to wait because, by the end of the day, I would receive the first of the prophecies that would change my life’s path.
Libby and I took our tea into the garden under the shade of a jacaranda tree that must have been over a hundred years old. Phoenix and Tahinah arrived within minutes and immediately began discussing the vision.
“This is wonderful news.”
“At least she’s making progress.”
Their words blurred into one long monotonous sound with no meaning and I fell asleep.
Dreamer of dreams hear our call… time nears... Over and over the words repeated. They made no sense, but images flashed and faded. I reached for them, but they were gone. Over and over, words I couldn’t understand and images I couldn’t hold. I was panicking, rushing toward the images, yelling at the voice. I screamed, “Just stop!” And the images suddenly stopped. Then the words changed and flowed into sounds I could understand. This time the words were spoken in English…
The images came again too, slower this time, trees and hills, rivers and rocks. The sun rose and set and rose and set and the moon waxed and waned... the passing of days… how many days? But the sun rose again and hundreds of children emerged from a misty water hole. They were laughing and running, happy children running toward something, something
I couldn’t see. Abruptly, the laughter stopped, the children vanished and thunderclouds rushed toward me, no toward us. Girls just like me stood looking toward the sky and then we noticed something. But what? I looked to the girls around me. Some nodded and walked off, others stood with me, confused. Then they too left and I was alone.
When I woke up, I was by myself, still under the jacaranda tree, but covered by a thin, fluffy throw. The sun was low in the sky, but there were still a few hours before it set. I understood the theory that I needed to be sleeping to receive the prophecy, but this was extreme even for Libby. As the dreamer of dreams, I was expected to dream the prophecy, but if this were the prophecy, then I was in trouble. I felt sure there would be disappointment because I had no idea what the dream was about.
A deep, sinking feeling filled me; I had failed before I’d even begun. I would break the news to Libby in the only way I knew how… by telling her the truth.
Libby and Tahinah were busy in the kitchen and two pots boiled furiously on the stove. My book sat on the table beside the Book of Secrets, exactly where I had left them hours before. I fell into the chair and caused the legs to grate against the cold stone floor.
“Oh my! What has happened?” Tahinah rushed to my side and sat in the nearest chair. Libby hurried to my room and returned with Phoenix in tow. Phoenix had been sent to my room to see if he could sleep too. Insurance, I guess, in case I got it wrong. Wrong was not the problem.
I felt the energy coursing through my veins. I had spent too long lying on the earth and not enough time releasing the energy. The energy from the earth was pure; it was my emotions that caused the chaos. I had no idea what would happen when the energy was this pure and my emotions this chaotic. Tahinah felt it first and took a step back and then another. By the time Phoenix and Libby felt the chaos, it was too late.
Absentmindedly, I flicked my hands as I did when it got out of control, but this time, I wasn’t in the yard standing on the edge of the rainforest. I was sitting at the kitchen table. The table cracked, splitting from end to end. Phoenix was thrown, chair and all, against the wall and hit with a sickening thump. All around me, plates rattled and cups broke. When it was over, I turned to see Libby grasping the kitchen counter. It seemed she had managed to avoid the full force, but Tahinah unfortunately, stumbled and sat on the floor beside another chair that didn’t survive.
I rushed to Phoenix, afraid that I had hurt him badly.
“I’m sorry! Oh God, I’m so sorry,” I stood beside Phoenix and looked to see if the other two were okay.
Phoenix pushed me away and stood up, “it’s okay, I’m just winded.”
“I think I’ll have a bruised butt tomorrow,” Tahinah smiled.
“I’m fine, but what on God’s great earth was that?” Libby said. She was about to return to the table and leave the safety and protection of the kitchen counter. “Do you think you’re done now? Or should we leave you alone to finish destroying the house?”
“I said I was sorry. I really am sorry.” There was no way I could have known this would happen.
Libby inspected the table, “You know this table was cut from a single stump when the loggers had taken the tree. Finest piece of walnut I’d ever seen.” She ran her hand over the tabletop. The table still stood, but the crack marred the surface. One hundred years of service to the family didn’t do as much damage as I had managed to do in one minute.
“So tell us, Psyche, what was that all about?” Libby had already moved beyond the damage and turned her attention to me. Fallen chairs and broken glass lay on the floor around us, but no one seemed to notice.
“I don’t know, I just moved my hand, like this.”
“No!” all three screamed in unison.
“Oh, it can’t happen now, the energy is gone. I don’t store it for later.” But they didn’t trust me, so I sat with my hands under my legs to prevent any further moments of panic.
“But there is worse news,” I paused not knowing how to continue. “I had a dream; maybe… it was the prophecy, I don’t know. If it was, I don’t know what it means.”
Libby turned to Phoenix, “And…”
Phoenix shrugged, “Maybe. I nodded off for a while, maybe for a few minutes, but not soon enough. I saw some children and some clouds, but nothing I could say was important.”
“I had hoped you understood it better than me.”
“We shouldn’t have let you sleep. It was silly to think that Phoenix could sleep because we told him to. And you’ve already had a big day. It was too much. This is my fault.” Libby wasn’t mad at me, she was angry with herself.
“Thing is, Phoenix shouldn’t have to dream with me. This is my responsibility. I should have understood it.”
I noticed my book on the end of the table. It still sat open near where Phoenix had been sitting before I blew him off the chair. The book was open!
The page was covered in words that weren’t my own. I reached out and felt the heat radiate from the page. The words took on a blue iridescent glow that seemed to seep into the pores of my skin. It was like when the energy seeped in, but this was slower and more controlled. I pulled my hand away and watched the words return to normal.
“The words of the prophecy… Bless the goddess, Psyche. This is her work.”
Chapter 25 ~ COLD STEEL
“We’re running out of time,” I said, “l can feel it.” The dreams had been coming with a greater sense of urgency and I awoke each morning feeling panicked and exhausted. Each morning, new words appeared in my book, but never a piece of carefully constructed prose or a snappy riddle written with wisdom. The daughters before me had clear instructions. Protect the secret, hide the book, hide yourself, worship the goddess, travel to new lands, build the foundation, protect the daughter and sing the songs.
Was this my fault? I suspected the chaotic energy had something to do with it and perhaps Libby was right. If I had learned to use the magick when I was young, maybe I could understand everything better today.
Phoenix arrived, notebook in hand and a map rolled and tucked under his arm. He was smiling. This was a change from the furrows that had recently marred his perfect face. He was worried about me, but I think he was also concerned that he had failed. There were rules about interfering and he had to allow me to make the necessary choices without his influence. To me, this was unfair, but it had to do with free will and choices, so I stopped expecting Phoenix to provide all the answers.
“I know where to go,” Phoenix announced. Libby drew up a chair as Phoenix rolled out the map. “Here,” he pointed to a thin blue line at the bottom edge of the map.
“This is Emma Creek. We used to go camping near there during the holidays.”
“And… why are we going there?” I was confused.
“Your dreams keep showing images of trees and rocks, mountains, hills and rivers. They come in the same order every time, like photos of a journey you have taken. Or of a journey you should take. I found some of the images familiar and remembered the trips to Emma Creek. I’m sure this is where you’re meant to go.” Phoenix spoke fast, a trait he had picked up from Tahinah.
I pointed to another dot on the map, “And this is us here?” He nodded. “Then how do we get from here to Emma Creek?” As maps go, the dot was only about sixty centimetres from the creek.
“I’ve asked Lachlan if we can take the Jeep. He should be here soon. He said we can go out and back in one day.”
“Are you sure this is where you need to go?” Libby asked as she studied the map.
“Ask Psyche. If she describes the images to the others, they can confirm what I’ve already told you.”
Navarre and Ruben arrived within minutes of Seth and Lachlan, all eager to hear about the dream that would take us one hundred kilometres from home and back. In the daily routine of subsistence living, it seemed that I was the only source of excitement.
“The first image is pretty easy. I‘ve even seen it myself. It’s the crossroads in town, where
that man was speaking that day at the markets. I closed my eyes to try to relay the images in sequence. “Then there is a marker on a tree. 1974, I think it says.”
“That’s the flood marker at Hunter’s Creek, so that’s an easy one too. You’re heading west.” Lachlan seemed pleased that he could follow the signs.
“In the dream, Psyche is standing on the bank of the river and she’s wet when she reads the sign so I think she crosses the river here, but that only makes sense if she was walking. That would be the shortest distance.”
The conversation continued, with the men marking the map as I described the signs and images.
“Well it looks like a trip to Emma Creek is in order. How long before you can be ready?” Libby addressed Lachlan.
Lachlan shrugged, “How long will it take the princess to get ready?”
“I can have her ready to leave in about fifteen minutes. There’s no time to waste.”
After the men left, Phoenix stared at the map. “What I don’t get is why the signs don’t follow the road. Even in the Jeep, we can’t cross the river at most of these places.”
“What I don’t get is what we are going there for,” I mumbled.
“Well, hopefully you will by the time you arrive,” Libby was optimistic that the trip would not be a wasted journey.
~~~
We were packing food and filling bottles of water when the sound of gunfire split the air. Standing in the front yard were four armed men. A series of similar sounds ricocheted through the valley.
The men’s clothes were grubby and tattered and their long, lank hair and wiry beards hid their faces. A man with greying hair and an even greyer beard walked toward us and stood, his gun lowered. The others kept their guns raised, but not pointed directly at us.
“We don’t want no trouble, Misses.”
“Then why are you standing here pointing those guns at us?” said Libby as Phoenix reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Now was not the time to make a stand or for Libby to exude authority. I knew that Libby had a shotgun behind the front door, but thankfully, everything happened too fast for her to grab it on her way out.