Ishtar Bound

by Natalie Gibson

  “You know it doesn't work like that. I called the mate best suited for life with Jolie; the one who'd love her most and bring her the greatest happiness. I can't dictate who that'll be.” Maeve continued and tried not to react to Nathalia's disgust. “but no other new matches were made.”

  Tara Kay and Ingrid picked fruit nearby, a little confused about why Maeve would want them near while she talked to the Abbess. Individual's abilities were mostly kept between a mentor, her apprentice and the Abbess. The two potion makers tried to busy themselves.

  You failed? Maeve fought down the familiar nausea at hearing Nathalia's voice in her head. She never got used to that intrusion and she didn't think she ever would. She answered aloud, “No, I didn't attempt a match last night. Turns out my intended mark, the one from the Family that the council suggested, was Jolie's match. I sent Sophmaker Sara on a solo try, but it wasn't a success.”

  The Abbess was disappointed, but not surprised. “Matchmaking's hard. I'm not surprised she wasn't successful on her first attempt. Frankly, I was more surprised to hear you say that you thought Sara was ready. Not many girls her age could wield the level of power you do.” However it happened, when Maeve stopped being their Vinculum Primo, it was going to be impossible to replace her.

  “She has to know her weaknesses and find ways to deal with them and she can't do that if all she ever does is watch me work. I never said I thought she would be successful yet, only that she was ready to try. Margaux was the one pushing for Sara to ascend so soon. She can't do that until she has at least one success in her book. And she can't get an entry in her book until she can generate sufficient amounts of white energy.”

  Tara and Sara were roommates and the Sophomore Ingenium jumped in where she thought appropriate, “Yeah, she and I have been talking about it and I think we can make something specially designed to help her reach climax easier and generate more power for her matchmaking.”

  “That's why I came here to talk to Tara and Ingrid. I think at this stage in Sara's advancement, she needs some herbal help. Sara was hesitant to talk to me about her troubles and her need. I guess she thought I wouldn't understand.”

  “Probably not.” Nathalia smiled at the memory that popped into her head and she decided to share her friends embarrassing moment. She nudged Ingrid with her elbow. “I was a senior in high school, Maeve was a sophomore and I heard that she had an orgasm in the middle of English lit.”

  “It was an accident.” Maeve rushed to her own defense.

  “Sara told me about that. How do you accidentally come?” Any pretense of not listening was gone and Tara Kay jumped in. She'd wanted to ask since Sara told her Maeve's story. “I know guys can, but...girls always take so long to get there.”

  “We were giving oral reports that day on Madame Bovary and I was nervous and had my legs crossed a little too tightly. My turn came and when I stood up, blood rushed back to that area and I had an orgasm. Full. Blown. Climax. In front of my whole class. Nathalia loves to tell that story. She kidded me all that year about it.”

  Tara continued with her suggestion, “I was thinking maybe a slight alteration to the bliss recipe.”

  “But it would need to be gentler than that since Matchmakers have to keep their concentration to direct the white energy throughout the spells.” Maeve told Tara just what had gone wrong with the Sophomore's first unauthorized attempt without the other witnesses knowing.

  “Your story gave me an idea. What if we did something that affected blood flow – like Viagra does for men? We could combine it with a small amount of bliss.”

  “It will take some research and some trial and error, but it can probably be done.” Ingrid was already thinking about the specific herbs and alterations she could use. Each person was different and had a different reaction to various things, but, “Designing something that specific would be a great learning tool for my apprentice. I'm willing to supervise it if Tara and Sara want to try and Nathalia's not opposed.”

  That was the rub. Nathalia was against the use of intoxicants with her girls, but the Ingenium had a place here and she was forced to accept their assistance on a regular basis. She was Abbess and could say no; they would just stick to making the everyday medicines that the women needed, but she didn't. “Fine. But nothing gets used in the field until it has been properly tested here in safety under supervision.”

  Nathalia and Maeve left them discussing possibilities there in the grove. The Ingenium were obviously happy for a new challenge and excited about the coming days. Maeve thought that this was how the sisterhood should be run. Each woman should bring her skills and talents and use them to make the group better and more successful. Each person pushing the others to be their best. She often wondered why the council had chosen Nathalia as Abbess, when she was so obviously tainted towards men and had such prejudiced notions about key topics. The council did not make mistakes though, so they must have their reasons.

  The two childhood friends walked out into the warming morning sun towards the main compound. Maeve noticed Nathalia's hair was up in an elaborate knot again, though it looked a little frazzled, like it had been slept on or possibly tugged on. Actually, Nathalia looked frazzled as a whole. Her eyes were puffy and red and her skin looked droopy and pasty. “You wanna lay out together this afternoon? You look like you could use a little sun.”

  “I could use a little sleep.” The Abbess admitted.

  Maeve knew right away what the problem was. The nightmares must be back. Nathalia's eyelashes were missing too. Maeve wished for just 30 seconds alone with Michael. What he had done to her friend’s body was bad enough, but those wounds healed quickly. It was the wounds to her psyche that were still hurting her and those are the ones that made Maeve want to cut him. Deep.

  “I've been trying something with my hair. I found some books about the magic in braids and knots. There's a section in it about using them to block out bad thoughts and I thought it would apply to dreams. But all I really did was make it easier to tear at in my sleep.”

  “I'm sorry, Nathalia.” She put her arm around the much taller woman's waist in a supportive gesture. “Maybe you should go talk to the counselor at the shelter.”

  “I AM the counselor now.”

  “Teresa quit?”

  “She said she couldn't take it anymore. She only ever got to see the dark side of humanity and she was tired of losing women back to their abusers. It's a very depressing job” Once a victim, always a victim.

  “I heard that. You are NOT a victim. You're a strong woman who left her abuser behind.”

  Nathalia started to cry. “I left my family behind and he killed them.”

  They ducked into the library and Maeve pulled Nathalia into a secluded section of the stacks. The girls did not need to see their Abbess weeping. They needed to see her as the strong leader she was; someone neither they nor anyone else should cross. “We don't know who killed your parents. If you'd been there the burglar would have killed you too. You didn't cause their death and you did nothing wrong. You went off to college like any other normal 18 year old.”

  “I know who killed them. Michael killed them when they wouldn't tell him where I was. I know it was him.” The police had told her over and over that it was random and that a junkie had wondered in looking for money and drugs. Fools. She couldn't tell them about the witchcraft. They never believed her when she said it was Michael, after all, who wants to believe that the small town football champion was capable of something like that.

  The school guidance counselor hadn't believed her either when she tried to get help right after the abuse started years before. She had told Nathalia that it would be better to keep it quiet, lest some thought she was a liar looking for attention. Who would people believe when it was just her word against his, the star senior running back or a freshmen girl? she had said. Nathalia knew it was her own fault her parents were dead. They'd still be alive today if she had told that idiot counselor where to stuff her overrated opinions and
then told the world what kind of 'man' Michael was. She'd still be a whole person. Instead, she'd allowed it to continue for four years. He had never left town, even after graduation he stayed there doing small jobs on campus so he could keep his eyes, and hands, on her. He always asked her if she was 'Michael's girl'.

  “It is not just the nightmares stressing you, is it?”

  “No.” Nathalia answered both Maeve and the question in her own head. She was not Michael's girl. She was her own woman; Abbess of this whole sisterhood. She had accepted the position knowing it was one of sacrifice and now Margaux had said that time was approaching. “I am going to be fine. Thanks.”

  Maeve saw the wall go up. She knew Nathalia had pulled it together and blocked everyone out. She had known Nathalia for long enough to recognize that barrier and acknowledge its solidarity without testing it further. The conversation was over, but the battle would go on internally. There was nothing more she could say, so she tucked a stray strand back into her friends do. “I need to report to Libby and then maybe we can get our vitamin D the old school way. Whadya say?”

  “I've a couple other ideas to help Sara; I need to talk to some sisters. See you on the rooftop at noon, hopefully with some good news.” A little relaxation did sound good to Nathalia. She'd just been overcome with the tears; it was fine now. She just needed a shower and some down time.

  ***

  Leonard put the finishing touches on John David and Jolie's page in Maeve's book. The reports were made to Libby but everyone knew her handwriting was chicken scratch. Leonard was the real artist in that couple. He pretended to not know what he was writing or recording, but he'd been in the house longer than Maeve or Nathalia. He knew what was up. He put the little flurry under Jolie's name indicating that she was a Daughter.

  “JD's of the Family.” Maeve stated the fact knowing that Leonard would, without question, add the notation to JD's name.

  “Really? Maeve that’s so exciting!” The owner of that voice, looking very much the part of Librarian, complete with horn rimed glasses and a tightly bound graying bun, came down the sliding ladder to embrace Maeve. “The council will be so thrilled. Do you think this could be The Match?”

  Secretly Maeve was thrilled too. She hoped to be the Vinculum responsible for the ancient prophesied match. It was a serious honor and would herald the coming of a new era for the sisterhood and the world. The prophecy was older than the sisterhood. No one knew where it originated, but versions of it had been found in old manuscripts from all over the globe. There was even one in Sumerian – the oldest language in human history.

  “I've done 3 other matches for sisters, but this's the first with a man from the Family.”

  The Family tree was huge, with thousands of branches in every country in the world. They were the direct descendants of Enoch, or so it was said. It was documented in a secret book held by the council. Goodness knows where they got it or how much they paid for it. No one outside the council had ever seen it.

  “Today just gets better and better. First the glove and then this.”

  Leonard smirked at his wife's attempt at a nonchalant segway into what she had been waiting to tell Maeve all morning. He shook his head good heartedly when Maeve fell for it and asked, “What glove?”

  Libby said simply, “The council sent me a gift.”

  The Renuntio Primo pulled a wooden box out of her desk drawer and carefully laid it on the clearing she had made for it. The box was very old from the look of it, and was ornately carved depicting a falcon holding a scepter.

  Libby sat on her side of the partner desk and gestured that Maeve should sit on the other. The box was between them on the desk and Libby was beaming. She opened it to reveal a pair of delicate white gloves and carefully took the top glove, turned it over and placed it on the box lid. Now Maeve could see an example of both sides. Libby sat back and waited for Maeve to make the discovery on her own.

  She had seen some old artifacts over the years, but clothing of this age was rare. A lovely dainty green vine was embroidered all the way around the wrist and they flowered into a beautiful A and B. It was obviously hand done and Maeve could not even estimate their age. They were worn impossibly thin in places and seemed to be turning to dust before her eyes.

  Maeve could just make out the hand print of the owner, even the shapely nails were outlined on the left glove which was top side up. Something was odd about the right hand glove which was palm side up. Maeve covered her mouth and nose with Israel's shirt, to protect the ancient garment from her moist hot breath, and leaned in for a better look at the abnormality. It looked similar to the worn places of the other glove, but its position was off.

  Libby saw the moment of recognition in Maeve's eyes. Six fingernails on the right hand...”Yes, Anne Boleyn herself wore these gloves,” And quite often too, by the look of the imprints. “and the rumors were true. She did have an extra fingernail on the side of her palm.”

  Libby continued as she carefully put them back in their case and then into a humidity controlled container. “Anne was a natural Vinculum. She had the skills, but the sisterhood didn't exist in England during the time, so she'd no training. I often suspected it to be the case, but holding these confirmed it for me.” Libby was a Renuntio, a psychometrist who could tell an object's history just by touching it. “Anne was supposedly such a great dancer and truly seemed in love with Henry, and it ended so badly for her. It just makes sense. King Henry even claimed later that he was seduced into marriage by “sortilege” - spells or deception. I believe he was – but accidentally. Anne unknowingly cast primitive spells to ensnare and marry the King. It all went wrong because she was acting for herself. Using magic for personal gain always brings twisted outcomes even when unintentional.”

  Maeve understood that well enough. She had personally experienced it with her first boyfriend, Jimmy. Her ability was strong even back then but she was untrained. When they slept together the first time Maeve had been so into it, so lost in the moment that she had bound them together. It was years later when she realized they weren't right for each other but he was under a spell. Maeve hadn't called the best match for Jimmy, she thought she wanted him and her magic had warped him and their love. She was just lucky that her rookie mistake didn't end up as tragically as Anne's.

  That was when Nathalia stepped back into her life. She never really left, but sometimes living gets in the way of life. It was after Nathalia's parents were murdered but before she was Abbess. She was trying to leave behind everything that reminded her of home and that included Maeve, but they still talked over the phone. Maeve was insistent on keeping that thin semblance of their old relationship going. Maeve told her everything and Nathalia realized what had happened. She brought Maeve to the Daughters and it was confirmed that she was a Vinculum. Over a few months their childhood friendship grew into an adult love affair.

  Breaking up with Jimmy had been difficult to say the least. He had begged and pleaded then gotten violent and belligerent. Then it really got nasty. He had gone to her parents. After hearing about her love affair with Nathalia, they had disowned her straight away. Tough love, they had called it. By then she was a novice of the Daughters of Women and knew that real love was unconditional. The sisters had told her that there was no need for her to ever have to see Jimmy again if she did not want to. They would take care of her from then on and fix the Jimmy slip up.

  “How'd you fix things with Jimmy?”

  “Your mentor never told you?” Maeve shrugged and shook her head. “Peggy and I were best friends, you know. She was stunned at your raw talent. By the time you came along she was so tired, so relieved to have a replacement, she probably just didn't want to worry you. If I remember correctly, we tried a couple of things to remove the spells. Nothing worked and he got more and more obsessed for a while. We kept it from you as we thought was best, but continued to try. After all, he wasn't a bad person, just unlucky. We didn't want you to feel guilty, because you had erred in innocence
. In the end, your mentor had to just matchmake for him. Your spell couldn't be undone, just overwritten. He got married to a nice little Christian girl the next year.”

  Libby did not tell Maeve that that wife had died soon after they were wed and that Jim still loved Maeve. He tried to contact her and his messages were often threatening. There was no reason she needed to know his story did not end happily. It was better if Maeve thought he was out there living life with his wife happily, in spite of her mistakes.

  “Sara botched her first solo attempt last night. I don't know what parts if any of the spell she completed.” She looked up to find Libby staring at her oddly. Maeve felt a little ill; something was wrong. She mistook her gut feeling and Libby's look, “Don't worry. I'm fine. I can fix Sara's mistake.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew that wasn't it. Libby was shaking her head and clutching her gut as if she too felt sick. Something was wrong, but it had nothing to do with Lucas or Sara.

  The capacitors.

  Both women rushed out the side door toward the main building, under which the capacitors were housed. The outdoor air was cool, but did little to remedy their flushed fevered faces or stricken stomachs. They passed other Primos looking ill and Maeve motioned them to come along.

  All Primos had a connection to the capacitors and could feel the upset of power, but Maeve alone knew something truly horrible had happened far below the floor of their sanctuary. She was certain, and yet very confused. She'd never felt anything quite like this disturbance and the fact that all Primos she passed were feeling it too was a bad sign.

  There was a group of women milling around the Abbess' door. When Maeve and her followers entered the sanctuary, Elle called out to them, “You feel it too? Something's wrong, but Nathalia's not in her quarters.”

  Maeve was out of breath, but managed to point to the Ishtar statue just as Nathalia exited the door it hid. Both groups rushed to her. Nathalia put her hands up, signing for all to quiet themselves and listen.