by Heidi Hanley
It wasn’t difficult to do, but it was emotional. The polished pebbles were initially cool to her touch, but warmed appreciably as she focused on the sensation and her intent. Briana easily fell into a trancelike state. Her eyes moistened as she imagined Katrina sitting before her. Oh, Mom. I miss you so much. A feeling of connection with her mother washed over her, and after assuring her mother of her well-being, she thought of everything that had happened to her since coming to Uisneach. She thought of Silas. I think I’m in love with him, she thought. That admission jarred her out of the trance, coupled as it was with the fear that Silas might also have heard her.
“Briana?” the witch asked, with concern.
“Something happened.” Cailleach nodded. “Mom doesn’t have any runes, though. How will she get the message?”
“It will translate to whatever medium she does use, so the cards will offer her the images she needs to receive your intention. You’ve done this kind of magic before.”
It was a statement, not a question, and Briana confirmed it. “I wouldn’t have called it magic, but yes, I’ve used divination cards and imagery before. I once attended a shamanic workshop and the journeying we did felt similar to this.”
“What you just did does qualify as magic. But that’s tomorrow’s lesson. Hungry?”
Dara jumped up from his bed by the fire at the word, making the women laugh. After feeding him and the outside animals, they ate their own supper of ferns, mushrooms and carrots mixed with a little goat cheese, and talked about all that Briana had learned that day. Apple wine, a peat fire, a dog to pet and gentle conversation all worked their own kind of magic, easing the discomforts Briana had felt during the day.
Cailleach seemed to be dozing when Briana’s attention was caught by Merlin’s chirping. Turning to the bird, she listened for a minute before saying quietly, “I’ll look forward to that.”
“What?” Cailleach asked, suddenly wide awake and interested.
“Seeing him shapeshift. He said…” Briana stopped, astonished that she had actually heard the hawk say something to her.
“Well, well, Briana. You are full of surprises. That, my dear, is faerie magic.”
Chapter Twelve
Abracadabra
The next morning, Briana was staring holes through Dara, who stood cocking his head from side to side, when Cailleach joined her.
“You can’t force it, Briana,” Cailleach said. “Both parties have to be willing.”
Briana turned from the dog to the witch. “It can be controlled, then?”
“I think so. I’m not a faerie, so I don’t know exactly how it works, but it seems that animals and faeries can communicate telepathically when it’s necessary.”
Yeah, well, so can Silas and I, she thought. Briana squirmed under the witch’s sudden, intense scrutiny. I need to be very careful that I don’t give anything away. She didn’t necessarily want to keep a secret from Cailleach, but she agreed with Silas that until they understood what was going on, it was best not to say anything. “So,” she said, smiling and rubbing her hands together gleefully, “are we ready to get into the magic?”
The witch guided Briana to a chair at the table. “Magic is nothing more than the manipulation of energy for a purpose. As long as your intention is good, such as for healing illness, you’ve more power than you can imagine.”
“So if I try to harm someone, then it won’t work?”
“Oh, it will work, but that’s not magic; it’s called evil.”
“Oh,” Briana mouthed.
“Your visualization last night with the runes was an augury of one kind. Wise use of healing herbs and potions is another. The feelings lovers share between them, well that’s another kind of spell altogether.” Cailleach tittered, triggering Briana to laugh, also.
Cailleach gathered a bowl of water, a candle, several bird feathers and the rune stones. “Before we start, I must advise you not to have terribly high expectations. For some reason, there’s been a general lessening of magical power. The protective spell I use around the cabin and forest doesn’t last as long as it used to, and some of my enchantments seem a bit weak. I suspect it has something to do with the loss of faerie trees, but I’m not sure. However, you still must learn and practice your skills. Ready to get started?”
Briana nodded, eyes big and excited.
“You know the proper breathing technique, right?”
In answer, Briana sat back and closed her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths, and allowed her body and mind to settle. When she felt ready, she opened her eyes and gave a nod to her mentor.
“We work with the elements because they make up everything in the universe. We are nothing more than a particular form of water, fire, earth and air, you ken? Let’s start with water.” She pushed the clear water in front of Briana. “Now this is serious work, Briana. I want you to focus as much as you can on the water, remembering it’s not just a bowl of water, but many drops of water gathering together. See it clearly. Try to imagine each single drop making up the whole. Focus all your attention and tell me when anything happens. It can take a long time to get this, so don’t hurry. We have all day, aye? Do you feel relaxed?”
Briana nodded dreamily and gazed into the bowl, pushing away any thoughts that interfered with her ability to connect with the water. Nothing happened for a time. On some level, she was aware of the witch’s presence near her, but Cailleach had more patience than Maker and sat silent and unmoving as Briana studied the element before her. She was about to give up when she noticed ripples spread out across the surface. Subtle colors appeared in the water. A small ahhh escaped her lips at this beautiful miracle.
“Now,” Cailleach murmured, “believe that you are one with the water.”
Briana journeyed into her own body, mentally seeing blood and plasma flowing through her veins. Vital liquids reaching out to the bowl of water. A wave moved between them, drawing them closer together until they became a single body of liquid. She barely breathed, wanting to hold this unity as long as she could.
“Gaze into the water, Briana, and notice what other images come to you. Don’t try to force it, just continue observing and tell me if anything appears.”
When Cailleach’s face appeared in the bowl, she jumped, breaking the spell. “Oh no!” She turned to Cailleach, surprised and disappointed.
“It can be a bit of a shock the first time. Tell me, what or who did you see?”
“You. I saw your face as clearly as I’m looking at you now.”
Cailleach sat down in the chair with an interested, almost smug look on her face, nodding appreciatively. “My, my, you are gifted. I had a feeling you might be.”
Briana stared back at the water. “Who knew?”
They worked with water for a while longer before turning to fire. A candle became the locus of Briana’s attention. Her confidence and excitement grew as she discovered a similar process to change the tiny flame into a dancing flame, which at one point, threatened to set the cabin on fire.
“Easy, girl, careful with that power. We don’t want to magic us out of hearth and home.”
Briana delighted in her newly discovered gift and wondered what else could be done magically, especially as it related to Silas.
Reading her expression, Cailleach said, “The most important thing to learn is the appropriate use of magic. Used well, it can be a blessing, but used for one’s personal advantage, it can result in unimaginable heartache. Maker has a plan for us all and any attempt to disrupt or alter that plan, tempting as it may be, is most unwise.”
“How do you know the difference, Cailleach?”
“That’s the hard part, sometimes. You may be called on to use your powers in ways that do seem like interference, but it will be right to do so. I don’t believe that Maker intends you to withhold a tool that could ensure the fulfillment of the prophecy. On the other hand, enchantment used to turn the head of a certain young bard would not be a wise use of the gift. Understood?”
&nb
sp; “Cailleach, I wouldn’t…” She couldn’t finish the sentence since that was exactly what she was thinking.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t. I’m trying to show you the difference between the proper and improper use of your gift. And Briana, your power will continue to grow as you grow in strength and wisdom.”
Briana considered this. “So, is this journey I’m on inevitable? Is there no room for me to decide what I want to do?”
“You have the power to choose. Yes, but with choices come consequences, aye? Maker has a grander view than we do, and though we can always follow a direction other than the one meant for us, things might not turn out as well as they could. Faith is what’s required to see this through. Not always easy. Your willingness to make choices consistent with the prophecy is critical to the survival of Uisneach, but know this lass – you won’t be alone. There’s many of us here to help you along.”
“No pressure,” she muttered.
The morning flew by. Briana was slicing slabs of bread for lunch, lost in a daydream.
“Is there enough for us, too?”
She jumped and the knife clattered across the table. Silas reached around her and caught it before it could hit the floor. His touch, grazing her waist, raised the alarm for the butterflies who’d set up permanent residence in her belly these days. She accepted the knife with a slight tremble in her fingers.
“Geez, Silas, you scared me! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry.” He grinned. “Not really.”
Louder steps announced Sigel’s arrival behind him. She cut several more slices of bread as Cailleach instructed them to put the sacks of grain in the root cellar. They’d also bagged and cleaned a few birds for this evening’s meal, a gift that Cailleach accepted with hearty appreciation.
During lunch, Sigel recounted the numbers of men gathering in Moiria. “Now that word has gotten out that the Mouse is here, they’re coming out of the stones, ready to fight Shamwa.”
“And will we be fighting?” Briana asked, picking at the food before her.
“Hopefully not. Priority one is getting you safely to Ard Darach to release Brath. Then we’ll meet the prime minister with a full army and king. And maybe a queen.”
Briana refused to react, but couldn’t help stealing a glance at Silas to gauge his reaction. He stabbed a chunk of partridge, popped it in his mouth and chewed, giving away nothing by his expression.
“I’ve ordered most of the troops to stay put until we get there and send only scouts south to Long River. When we get to Moiria, we’ll cross the river and head for Winge Mansion, while the troops fan out and make a slow march upriver. They can keep any of Shamwa’s troops away from us.
“Sir Thomas will provide horses for us. We can head up the coast and then cut back across the river to the north of the castle. It’s a little circuitous, but gives us distance and cover. We’d be too exposed if we went straight across the plains into the mountains. Going through Poet’s Gap would bring us way too close to Aurum Castle, Lord Shamwa’s residence.”
Her world was being crowded with shapeshifters, druids, faeries and witches. Keeping the players straight was a full-time job. However, she replied with the confident cheer of someone who dealt with shapeshifters every day. “Sounds easy enough.”
He gave her a warning look. “Nothing about this will be easy, Briana, but if we stay in a small group and move fast, we have a better chance of getting you to Ard Darach before we have to meet an army. Are you going to eat that, or can I have it?”
She slid her bowl of barely touched food to him. “What exactly do you mean by a small group?”
“I mean for the three of us,” he wagged a finger at her, Silas and himself, “to get to Winge Mansion and then make a run for Ard Darach. I think we can stay relatively hidden. Our army will create a wall between us and the Gray Military.”
He continued to talk about military matters and training the troops as they finished their lunch. When he leaned back with a satisfied burp, Cailleach rose and gathered the dishes. Briana rose to help.
“No, lass, back to the studies for you. You still have to read up on the Divine Practitioners,” the witch said, pointing her in the direction of the bookcase.
“Ah, me favorite subject,” Silas said, staring at the ceiling dreamily. “In fact, why don’t we walk down to the brook and I’ll tell you the whole story so you don’t have to read it from a dusty old book. We might even catch a few fish while we’re at it.”
Please say yes, Cailleach, she prayed silently.
The witch looked from student to bard and sighed. “Well, I suppose it would be nice to have some fish, and you do have a knack for finding the good ones. But no shenanigans, you wily charmer,” she said, giving Silas a pointed look.
“Wiley charmer? Me? I’m on me best behavior, Cailleach.”
Allowing Cailleach no opportunity to rethink her consent, Briana headed for the door, Silas right behind her. When Dara tried to follow, she spoke firmly. “No, Dara. You need another day or so off that foot. Maybe next time.” Lowering his head, the dog went back to the bedding, turned a couple of circles and dropped down with a disappointed shudder.
I’m such a clever lad, Silas thought, steering her quickly out of the arbor.
How so?
Well, milady, you’ll get your studies in, we might fish and we get to spend time together without a chaperone? I’d say that qualifies me as clever.
She smiled up at him. “Yes, you are. And now, Bard, tell me about the Divine Practitioners.”
They walked through an ancient forest that set the stage for the story of Uisneach’s magical people. Silas began to recite the thousands of years of history that he’d spent his life committing to memory.
“You’ll have read about Olama and his beautiful wife, Princess Amuira?”
“Yes, he came from Tir fo Thuinn to counsel the Eiriens in spiritual and philosophical matters.”
Silas gave her an approving smile at her correct pronunciation of the mythical place. “Olama’s powers were extraordinary, and his wisdom nearly as legendary. He became second-in-command to the King of Dromdara. When he and the king’s daughter fell in love, they were given approval to marry under the Uisneach Tree, a very high honor.
“Their children were blessed with mystical and magical powers and eventually became the race known as the Divine Practitioners, the witches, druids, priests and priestesses, and shapeshifters. Did you read about Oirion, the great musician and storyteller?”
“Yes, the first druid and bard. He had a child with the dryad.”
Silas nodded. “Duirchlann. ‘Child of the oak.’” He looked down at Briana with a playful smile. “Me great-great-great- and so on and so forth-grandfather. Duirchlann…”
She raised a finger to stop him. “Are you telling me that you’re a druid?”
“Oh, aye. From the bardic lineage. How did you think I came to be a bard? It’s sort of one and the same.”
“I hadn’t thought it through that far. Wow! You’re a druid,” she murmured, gaining new respect and feeling suddenly a little intimidated.
“It’s just me lineage, Briana,” he said, noticing the look on her face. “I’m just me. But back to Duirchlann. He was very powerful and passed his magic down many generations. Some of his children were great healers, some singers and storytellers, and some fine leaders and judges. Duirchlann married an Eirien woman named Nieve and they had several children, all born with special powers. One of them, Catriona, married the faerie king, Kailen of Evalon, a warrior among the faerie. This union produced a rare and beautiful form of druidism with strong healin’ power.
“These bloodlines were passed down a few generations. Those who were more skilled at healin’ became witches and could marry if they chose. Most druids did not marry, though there was no prohibition. They simply chose to take on students to carry on the practices.”
“Wouldn’t the students have to have natural magic?” Briana asked.
“
Aye, but in those days, it was likely that everyone had at least a wee bit of magic.”
“But some druids married?” She didn’t know why this point seemed important to her, but she felt compelled to assure herself that they could.
“Oh, aye. There was one great druid, Atan, who married a witch, Croniana. They moved to the forests of Appleduir and had two daughters.
“Then came the split between the druids and witches. Many of the witches moved to the forests of Appleduir and focused on healin’ and divination, only coming into the villages when sought by folk to treat the sick or deliver difficult babies. The druids, on the other hand, became bards or priests and engaged in the seasonal rituals, judgments, and unfortunately, the politics of the land.
“Three schools for druidic craft developed in Uisneach. The first, in Cedarmara, focused on bardic skills; the people there were known to have a deep love of story and song and created the beautiful tales and art contained in The Book of Leaves. The second was in Dromdara, and these druids became counselors and judges. The druids of Evalon, the third school, worked closely with the faeries to advance natural magic and healin’ arts.”
He paused, giving Briana time to absorb the history. “What about the kings?” she asked. “Were they magical, too?”
“Not very magical usually, but in the beginnin’, druids and witches held equal power with kings. Workin’ together with the monarchy, the Divine Practitioners developed laws, rituals and practices that would contribute to the social and religious order of the realm. Sadly, as time passed, they took a secondary, or complimentary role, and basically served the monarchs as deemed necessary.”
“That’s a bummer.”
“A what?”
“I mean that’s too bad.”
“Anyway,” he continued with a nod, “although the druids were basically the good guys with the best interests of Uisneach at heart, sometimes they got caught up in the power struggles of kings and prime ministers, like Artanin did with Lord Shamwa.