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Of Witches and Warlocks: The Trouble with Spells

Page 6

by Lacey Weatherford

Chapter 5

  Something was tickling my nose, and a loud motor-like sound rang in my ears, but I couldn’t quite place what it was. I rolled over in bed and buried my face into the pillow.

  There, that was better.

  No. Now something wet was licking my ear.

  What?

  Awareness suddenly flashed through my mind, and I bolted up, snatching the covers protectively around me as I hunted for the intruder.

  My assailant was invisible for a moment—until it moved—and I laughed in surprise when a large, fluffy cat climbed the blanket and nuzzled under my chin.

  “Well, hello,” I said, amazed to find my unexpected visitor. “Where’d you come from?”

  As if in answer to my question, the cat looked toward the window, and I saw I’d left it open.

  “Oh. Well, whose kitty are you?” I stroked the long white fur.

  The cat stretched and placed both paws on either side of my neck nuzzling against me as if it were hugging me. I laughed while I checked the cat for a collar or identification. There was none.

  “Well, I’m sure someone is missing you. Maybe I should advertise I found such a pretty girl . . . or are you a boy?”

  The white ball of fur then proceeded to drop down to my lap and rolled onto its back. I scratched its belly.

  “I see you’re a female,” I said, laughing.

  It was almost like this cat could understand everything I was saying. I gathered the ball of fluff and proceeded to pad into the hall, following the delicious breakfast smells to the kitchen.

  “You’re up early,” Grandma said without turning from the stove.

  “I was awakened by a visitor,” I replied, laughing. Grandma turned, noticing the giant cat in my arms.

  “Oh!” She removed the pan from the heat and came to stroke the animal. “Well, that happened fast!”

  “What did?” I asked, not following.

  “This cat is your familiar,” she said knowingly.

  “My what?”

  “Your familiar,” she said again happily, scratching its ear. “A familiar is a witch’s spiritual helper.”

  “I left the window open,” I explained. “She just wandered in.”

  Grandma smiled. “A familiar chooses the witch, not the other way around.”

  “How do we know she’s not simply someone’s lost cat?”

  “Ask her to do something for you. If she does it, you’ll have your answer.”

  I paused for a minute, thinking this task was harder than it sounded. I’d never asked a cat to do something before.

  “Cat,” I said, feeling more than a little dumb. I looked around and spied several leaves on the grass outside. “Bring me a leaf.” I wondered what in the world I was doing.

  The cat jumped from my arms, pushed the screen open with her nose and ran into the yard. A few moments later she was back at the door meowing to get in. I opened it, and the cat bowed its head to pick something up and trotted into the room. It dropped a leaf at my feet.

  “Well, paint me purple and call me stupid,” I muttered in complete amazement.

  “Don’t talk like that! You might jinx yourself someday,” Grandma said sternly.

  “Jinx myself? Is that really possible?”

  “You have to be careful how you say things now. Your words have extra meaning,” she explained. “By the way, what’re you going to name your pet?”

  I thought about it for a few seconds.

  “Jinx,” I said, and we both laughed. “Is that name okay with you?” I looked at the fur ball. The cat purred loudly, rubbing between my ankles.

  “Welcome to the family then, Jinx.” I bent and lifted the beautiful animal, nuzzling her fur while Grandma stroked her again.

  “Come eat some breakfast,” Grandma said, straightening to wash her hands in the sink before pulling a saucer out of the cupboard and placing it on the counter.

  I sat dutifully at the table while Grandma poured milk in the saucer for Jinx and placed it on the floor. Jinx hopped from my lap and ran straight to it. Grandma then dished us some eggs, sausage, and toast, along with a large glass of orange juice and sat down to join me.

  “So, how was your night with Vance?” she asked casually as I was putting a forkful of eggs into my mouth. I choked.

  “You know about that?” I said coughing. I reached for my juice and downed a big swallow.

  “Of course I do. I’m a witch too, remember?” She laughed. “Next time, feel free to use the front door. It’s easier than the window. That’s why I was surprised you were up so early this morning. You’ve only had a few hours of sleep.”

  “You aren’t mad?” I was surprised at her easygoing attitude.

  “No. Vance is a good kid. He needs someone to talk his troubles over with. Besides, I think he’ll be good for you too. He can help you while you get used to things.” She paused, studying me for a moment. “Last night I noticed a strange energy between the two of you, but I think it’s a good one.”

  We continued eating in silence for a few more moments, and the things Vance told me during our visit drifted through my mind.

  “What did his dad do?” I finally asked, but my grandma shook her head, unwilling to answer the question.

  “We won’t discuss his deeds here. I prefer to do it in a circle of protection. It’s safer.”

  “What’s a circle of protection?” I would never feel comfortable with all this witch stuff.

  “Finish your breakfast,” Grandma replied. “Then I’ll take you down into the basement. We’ll get started on your training, and I’ll teach you about some of this stuff.”

  I followed her back to the closet a short while later.

  “How’d you find a house with a basement like this?” I asked as she opened the door revealing the shelves of linens. “I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’m sure asking the realtor for a house with a spare dungeon doesn’t yield many results.”

  “Your dad helped me do the work. We dug down into the foundation and reinforced the walls and started excavating.”

  I made the mental note to add contractor to the list of my dad’s apparent abilities. “I had no idea my dad could do anything like this. How long did it take you to finish?”

  “Not long at all.”

  I gave her a puzzled glance, and she laughed.

  “You’re still thinking like a human. Magic makes things much easier, Lollipop.”

  “I am a human,” I stressed. “Unless you left out something about alien parentage in your discussion last night.”

  She gave me a nervous glance. “Well . . . , ”

  “What?” I almost shouted and she laughed.

  “I’m only kidding, Portia—trying to help you lighten up a bit. Now let me show you how to activate the hidden spring mechanism.”

  She pressed the shelf on one end until there was a resounding click. The covered shelf rolled completely to the left, revealing the narrow door behind them.

  “Where do they go?” I asked as I studied the empty space.

  “Into the closet of the next bedroom over, but don’t worry. Even if someone were staying in there, they wouldn’t see anything. We redesigned the closet and built a wall around the area these slide into.”

  She led the way down the stairs and into the first room we’d entered on the previous night, gesturing for me to sit at the wooden table there.

  “I’ve got to say, your closet under the stairs is much more impressive than Harry Potter’s. Too bad he couldn’t have lived here. Maybe I should change my name to Harriet,” I added wryly.

  Grandma laughed again. “I’m happy to see that dry sense of humor of yours is making a reappearance. I know how overwhelming all of this is for you. I lived something similar once myself.”

  “So the first thing you need to know is the Earth will provide you with pretty much everything you’ll ever need for your magic. Here you can see we have all kinds of herbs. Some of them I’ve grown fresh, others are ordered from unique place
s. There are herbs in their natural forms, some pressed into oils, and others have been ground into powders, which makes them easier to use in capsules. It’s a bit of a pharmacy of sorts. These things can all be used in rituals and healings.”

  She stood and walked over to an aisle between the sets of shelves and motioned for me to follow. We walked through a few rows of herbs before she turned down one with different articles. My eyes widened when I saw gems, crystals, and stones of every color imaginable. They were all lying in velvet-lined boxes, each stone labeled.

  “There are so many,” I whispered, continuing to follow her down the aisle.

  “These are all amulets used in our rituals or to make talismans.” She turned to finger the smooth purple stone hanging at my neck. “This is your talisman. You were drawn to this particular stone for a reason. It’s charged with magic from our coven and will help protect you from harm. You should always wear it.”

  I reverently touched the gem at my neck with a whole new appreciation.

  “Is that why you said the jewelry picked me?” I asked curiously, and she nodded.

  “The energy from the necklace was attracted to your energy,” she said, and beckoned me to follow her again.

  We rounded the next aisle, and I was surprised once more. This row contained all sorts of objects. There were sharp, double-edged knives, silver goblets, incense burners, sticks, swords, silk cloths in a variety of colors, and even a large black pot.

  Grandma went and picked up one of the double-edged knives.

  “This is called an athame,” she said. “It’s a witch’s personal knife, used in rituals and spell casting.” She returned the knife and touched one of the silver goblets.

  “This is a chalice, also used in rituals. There are a lot of these items since the whole coven meets here often. In fact, most of the things you see are used in our rituals.” She pointed toward the swords, telling me they were used in casting circles, censors for the burning of herbs to keep unwanted energies away, and the Hazelwood sticks were actually wands of some sort, used to channel magic, though not very often. The large black iron pot was a cauldron, and I found myself suppressing a giggle at the image of my grandma stirring over it. Next to it were smaller bowls used for grinding herbs.

  At the end of this aisle, we stepped through a narrow, wooden door into a very tiny, but organized, wine cellar. Most of the wine was in bottles lying on curved, wooden wine racks, but there were a couple of small barrels stacked on each other in the corner.

  “This is our wine cellar. We often use wine in our rituals, but sometimes we just like to have a drink.” Grandma laughed, giving me a wink. “But we try not to indulge too much. Everything in moderation, you know.” She turned to walk out of the room. “Any questions?”

  “Thousands,” I replied, not even knowing where to start as I followed.

  “Don’t worry, dear. Magic will become natural to you over time. The more you use it, the more comfortable it’ll become until it’s second nature to you.” She paused for a moment. “So there’s something delicate I need to ask you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Are you willing to become a member of the coven?”

  “I thought that was a given,” I replied, not realizing I had any say in the matter. I’d thought it was already a done deal. Wasn’t that why she was telling me all this stuff?

  “It must be of your own free will and choice,” she stated. “It’s the only way your magic will truly bind with ours.”

  “Then, yes. I’m willing,” I answered without hesitation. I knew she and my dad would never purposely lead me into something harmful.

  “Very good,” she replied, smiling. “We’ll hold the initiation ceremony with the others tomorrow then.”

  “There’s an initiation?” A sudden case of nerves fluttered through me. I wondered what that would entail.

  “Yes. You have to be officially accepted by the coven for our magic to bind together.”

  “I see,” I said, even though I really didn’t. “Is there anything special I need to know for this ceremony?”

  “No. Just wear this.” She handed me a black, hooded robe as we walked back through the rows of shelves. I left it lying on the table when she gestured for me to follow her again.

  “We hold all of our meetings in here,” she spoke as she opened the door into the ritual room we’d been in last night. “Those candelabra in each corner hold specific candles to call the four elements; Water, Air, Fire, and Earth. The blue pillar is for water, yellow for air. The crimson calls fire, and the brown symbolizes earth,” she said, pointing to each candle individually.

  “Here on the table, we place specific things we need when casting a circle. You’ll see that done in our meeting tomorrow.”

  She went to a small cupboard and removed a medium-size book.

  The volume looked worn with age, sort of antiqued. I was surprised, however, to find it was full of crisp, white pages inside, which had been trimmed in brown to give the pages an older appearance.

  “This is your Book of Shadows,” Grandma explained, handing the book to me. “It’s a journal of your craft and experiences. You’ll write down important rituals and spells, as well as things you’ve learned. It’ll serve as a guide, to help you remember things in the future.”

  “Do you have a Book of Shadows?” I asked curiously.

  “I do, and you’re welcome to look through it if you’d like.”

  I nodded. “I would.”

  “The book is in my bedroom. Let’s head up there.” She led the way out of the ritual room and down the hallway to the storage room.

  Jinx was waiting patiently for us where we’d left her at the top of the stairs. She rubbed through my legs before following me down the hall into Grandma’s bedroom. From a drawer in her nightstand she retrieved a book, clearly much older and thicker than mine, and extended it toward me.

  “All I ask is that you please don’t leave the house with it. It’s very sacred to me since it contains details of much of my life. And please, feel free to ask any questions you may have.”

  I thanked her, and we headed into the living room where I plopped into an overstuffed armchair, setting my new book down beside me, and began slowly flipping through the pages of her book. It was full of drawings and notations. Spells and experiments, along with journal entries, were scattered through the pages. She’d begun writing this journal on her sixteenth birthday. It described her own disbelief when her mother told her about the family powers passed on for generations.

  It talked of the very first spell she’d ever tried. In a moment of anger, she’d commanded a wart to appear on her brother’s nose. The book explained in great detail how she’d awaken the next morning with three warts on her own nose, which lasted much longer than the one’s she’d caused to appear on her brother’s. “I was mortified,” she’d written, going on to tell how she’d screamed for her mother. This was her first lesson in the Rule of Three, or the Law of Return. What one imparts will come back to them threefold. She cried when her mother explained the Law of Three didn’t always work so precisely, but there were always consequences to magic even if they weren’t readily apparent.

  I was deeply immersed in her book when the front door opened, and my mom walked in.

  “There you are,” she said, bending to give me a hug. Then she caught sight of grandma’s book. “Ah, I see you’re reading Milly’s Book of Shadows.”

  “You know about all this too?” I asked, feeling surprised for some reason.

  She nodded. “I try to stay out of the way, though, and leave the magic to the experts.” She smiled. “So are you coming home today or what?”

  “Sorry, Stacey,” Grandma said, entering the room. “I’ve been giving her the tour.” She winked at me.

  “No problem,” Mom said. “I was wondering if she was ever going to come home and open her birthday present from her dad and me.”

  That got my attention. “I have another present?” I asked, ju
mping from the chair and handing my grandma her book.

  “Yes, silly. You didn’t think we’d forgotten to get you something, did you? Go grab your things and load them in the car.”

  After I dressed, Grandma helped me gather the presents I’d received at my party and carry them out.

  “Thanks for everything yesterday,” my mom said to Grandma. “I was hoping I could get off early, but the hospital was crazy last night.”

  “No problem. We missed you, though. It was great fun, wasn’t it, Lollipop?” Grandma replied with a grin.

  “It was the best.” I gave her a hug and kiss. “I’ll come by later,” I hollered over my shoulder as I jogged to the car.

  “So the party went well?” Mom asked as she turned toward home.

  “It started a little rocky. All the guys were depressed about losing the football game, but things picked up later, and we all had a really good time.”

  “I’m so glad. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.” She gave me an apologetic glance.

  “Don’t worry about it. I understand. So what did you get me?” I asked, anticipation seeping through me. I hoped and prayed it was a car like Shelly had received for her birthday.

  She laughed. “Patience. You’re just going to have to wait the two minutes until we get there. Stay in the car until I tell you to get out.”

  My stomach clenched, butterflies going crazy as my mom parked in front of the garage and turned the car off.

  “You ready?”

  I nodded, unable to speak due to the squeal building in the back of my throat. She hit the button on the remote garage door opener, and it slowly opened, revealing my dad standing there with a big sign that said, “SURPRISE!” in giant letters. A motorized scooter, in one of the brightest shades of green I’d ever seen, with a wire basket on the back, was propped on its kickstand beside him. There was a large purple bow on the seat.

  Mom clapped her hands together in excitement. “Isn’t it great?” she said, smiling.

  My bubble of excitement deflated with a whoosh—all the air in my lungs escaping in one second. I attempted to school my expression, hoping I wasn’t giving away my disappointment. Should I be excited about a granny motorcycle? A plastic-feeling grin slid across my face.

  “Wow! It’s something!” I managed to choke out.

  “We know how much you wanted a car, but this was something we could afford, and they’re so easy to drive,” my mom prattled on gushingly. “As soon as you get your license, you can start driving it to school every day!”

  I couldn’t deflate her excitement. “Mom, words couldn’t possibly express to you what I’m feeling at this moment.”

  “Oh! I knew you’d like it!” She threw her arms around me in a giant bear hug. “She likes it, Sean!” she called out the window to my dad.

  I hugged her back, and a picture flew into my head of Vance on his massive beast of a motorcycle. Then suddenly there I was next to him on my little green moped.

  I laughed so hard I cried.

 

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