Healing Hands (The Queen of the Night series Book 2)

by Laura Emmons

  Evan led us out into the meadow. He guided us to stand on the opposite side of the great stone table which served as an altar. He helped us to kneel. Then he took a couple of steps back.

  Fiona said, “Margaret Fiona MacDougall Stewart and Corey Lawrence Stewart, before you are initiated as a member of the Cacapon coven of Appalachia, are you ready to be purified?”

  Corey and I both said, “Yes, we are.”

  Fiona continued, “Stand and be blessed.”

  I felt the heat and smelled the smoke from the censer as Fiona swung it toward my face. She must have done the same thing to Corey, because he coughed. There was a moment of silence. Suddenly, I felt water being sprinkled on me. Lastly, someone, probably Buach, threw a handful of dirt on my head.

  Fiona spoke, “By joining this coven, you become part of a greater spiritual family. As such, you are part of an endless circle of kinship and hospitality. Hail Arianrhod, the Queen of the Night! Hail Llew, the King of the Sun. Hail to kinsmen and clan, to the ancestors who watch over us, and to those who may follow.”

  She raised her voice and called out, “Here before you kneels Margaret Fiona MacDougall Stewart, soon to be a sworn part of this coven.”

  In a softer tone, she said, “Maggie, are you prepared to follow the mysteries of the deities on your journey through this life and the next? By dedicating yourself to the clan, you will learn these mysteries. You will grow from your discoveries. Let Mother Earth and Father Sky, the Queen of the Night and the King of the Sun, guide you on your travels. Are you willing and able to uphold the values and principles of this coven?”

  I responded, “I am.”

  Fiona continued, “Are you prepared, Maggie, to be born anew, to begin this day a brand new journey, as part of your new spiritual family, and as a child of the Cacapon clan?”

  “Yes.”

  Fiona concluded, “Rejoice Margaret Fiona MacDougall Stewart, and be welcomed into the light and love of the magical community. You are no longer a mere Seeker, but a servant of this coven.”

  Evan stepped up behind me and untied my blindfold. The clan applauded and we took a step back. The process was repeated with Corey. Afterward, Fiona walked around the altar and kissed both Corey and me on the foreheads.

  Then she called out, “Welcome, Maggie and Corey, to your new family. Blessed Be.”

  When Corey took off his blindfold and saw the sacred meadow in all its glory for the first time, he said, “Whoa, this place is awesome.”

  The cleared area was larger than a football field and stationed all around the clearing like a silent platoon stood massive standing stones made from locally quarried Bluestone.

  “This place is like Stonehenge,” he said, the awe evident in his voice. Instead of being laid out in concentric circles, like Stonehenge, these stones formed two overlapping circles. Most of the stones were much shorter than those in the famous Neolithic temple and only stood about two feet tall and about 8 inches in diameter. Positioned at equal intervals around the two circles, every fourth stone stood about four feet in height and ten inches in diameter. At each end of this figure eight shape, two massive archways were formed by a pair of gargantuan stones standing eight feet in height covered with a stone lintel. In the center of the clearing, where the two circles overlapped, sat a tremendous altar or table made from a huge, waist-high, slab of stone set on top of two wide legs, also quarried from the same rock.

  “Why are the stones in the shape of a figure eight?” Corey asked.

  I was pleased that I knew the answer. “The two overlapping circles form a ‘vesica piscis’ symbol. It’s an ancient symbol of peace.”

  “Cool,” he said. “Why does the clan meet here? Is it magical?”

  “Yes,” I assured him.

  Just then we were approached by Dariene and Buach. The Queen of the Sidhe addressed me first. As usual, Buach didn’t speak. He merely hovered at her side.

  “Young Healer, I am glad to formally welcome you to our magical community. Of course, from your brother,” she turned her attention to Corey, “we expect great things. We have been waiting for you for a long time. For now, I am needed elsewhere, but we will speak again soon. I have foreseen it. May blessings be upon you.” She lifted one hand as a gesture of blessing and turned to leave. Buach had been staring at Corey, scrutinizing him, but when Dariene turned, he snapped up his head. He nodded briskly to us, turned on his heel and followed her through the inter-dimensional portal under the southern archway.

  “Holy Sherbet! Did you see that? They disappeared!” Corey said.

  At this point, Evan had joined us. He chuckled at Corey’s surprise.

  Corey, stunned, asked, “How’d they do that?”

  Evan shrugged. “The harmonic frequency of this stone combined with the nexus of several ley lines makes the sacred meadow a conduit for inter-dimensional travel. Of course, we’re making our best guess at how it all works. The sacred meadow predates all history, even that of the local Native Americans who lived here before the first settlers arrived. The Sidhe probably know more about why the temple is here and how it works, but they won’t tell us.”

  “I don’t get it,” Corey shook his head.

  “It’s magic, Corey. You don’t have to understand how it works. Come on, let’s get a table. They’re gonna bless the old plow and then we can eat.”

  “I like eating,” said Corey.

  “At least it’s a beautiful day for a picnic,” I commented as we sat down near Rose and Pat.

  Pat responded, “Yeah, everyone’s complaining about the weather.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’ll get your brothers to bring us more firewood, won’t you Pat?” Rose asked.

  “Of course, I’m not going to let you all freeze for another six weeks. Oh good, the Macgregors have brought the plow out.” A group of young men wheeled an ancient, rusted hand-steered, mule-powered plow into the meadow. They stopped right in front of the altar. Luckily, no mule pulled it, only a bunch of goofy guys, joking with each other. They pushed it out to the center of the meadow so everyone could see the ceremony. They’d decorated the plow with cow bells and ribbons of many different colors. It looked even uglier as a result of their attempts at adornment. Once it was in place, they stepped away, still teasing each other.

  Pat said, “You’re a head-of-household now Rose, you have to go up there. Take some milk.”

  “Oh yeah,” Rose smiled, “I guess I am a head-of-household now. Okay, I’ll be back.”

  As I watched, Rose and many other people left their places at the tables and walked toward the plow, carrying a glass. Several had milk, I could tell because the liquid was white. Others carried a brown liquid.

  “What’s happening?” I asked Evan.

  “It’s part of the Imbolc-Candlemas celebration. We cover the lucky plow with milk and whiskey and ask the magical community for aid in bringing us a prosperous farming season.”

  “Oh, more scotch. I see.”

  After the procession finished and the plow swam in disgusting goo, everyone sat down and started digging into the breakfast feast. Rose and I received many compliments on our Caledonian cream. The oatcakes were delicious when covered in fruit and syrup with Crowdie cheese on the side.

  Someone brought out a portable radio and turned it up for all to hear. It played a news broadcast from Gobblers Knob, Pennsylvania. When the prognostication was announced there were many groans from all around the tables. Pat sat back in his chair.

  “Well, we already figured that out, didn’t we? We can expect six more weeks of winter. I’ll bring you more firewood, Rose.”

  Just then we were visited by Madison.

  “So, have you two announced a date, then?” She asked acerbically.

  Everyone within hearing range stopped eating and looked at her.

  Evan put down his fork and sat back. “You know, Madison, it’s quite rude to spread false rumors. You know that no clan rules are being broken here. Why are you trying to create trou
ble?”

  “It just seems suspicious that a Healer and a Seer would spend so much time together. The two of you are practically inseparable. Everyone can see it. The danger of losing another generation of Healers and Seers to the selfish whims of a MacDougall should be obvious to all of us.”

  I was about to explode. Only a gentle touch of Evan’s hand on my knee under the table stalled my tongue. Did Madison believe if she could force me out of the picture, not that I was in the picture, she would have a better chance at winning him? Or was she resigned to the knowledge he’d never want her, so she was going to try and cause as much pain as possible. I really didn’t know what she was trying to do.

  Apparently Evan did. “You’re drunk, Madison…again. Go home and get sober.” Ah, I thought, it was scenario number two. She’s trying to hurt us.

  Then Corey piped up and said something unusual. “You know, having friends can be a comfort. It’s too bad you don’t have any or you might not have to resort to crashing parties to get attention. Did they figure out how your dad died yet?”

  I stomped Corey’s foot.

  He shut up. I was really impressed with his astute observation about friendship, but if I wasn’t mistaken, I had just heard Corey admit to having a vision about another person’s memory. Someone helped Madison leave the clearing. She must have been drunk. She could barely walk.

  Corey had had a vision of a past event. Wasn’t that one of the super rare gifts that Evan had mentioned? I hadn’t asked Jenny about Corey’s progress in Seer training. I would have to now. It wasn’t appropriate for me to run over to her during the party, but soon, I’d have to talk to her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Fallout

  Groundhog Day fell on a Saturday. I didn’t want to wait until the following Tuesday to ask about Corey’s training, so, when I called Jenny to arrange a meeting, her response somewhat surprised me.

  “Oh, hello Maggie, how are you?”

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Keach. How are you this evening?”

  “Call me Jenny, dear. I’m doing well. The ceremony was lovely this morning. I hope you know how welcome you are into the clan.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Keach.”

  “Call me Jenny, please. I’m so glad you called. I wanted to talk to you, and I didn’t want to wait until Tuesday.”

  “That’s why I called, Jenny. I wondered if we could meet sooner. Wait, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  “I’d prefer to talk in person. You should come over to the house for Sunday dinner. What do you say?”

  “Sure, I’d love to have dinner with your family.”

  “Good, I’ll send Evan to pick you up around 5. We can talk before we eat.”

  “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see you then.”

  ***

  The Keach house wasn’t far from my own, and on a warm day it would have made a pleasant walk, but it had started to snow again, so I was grateful that Evan waited in front of the house with a warm SUV. Rose gave me the rest of the Caledonian cream as a hostess gift. With my hands full, I had trouble keeping my balance on the slushy sidewalk. Before I’d even noticed him get out of the driver’s seat, he stood at my side, steadying me and opening the car door.

  “Thanks,” I said, shyly. I had no idea why breathing became difficult, or why I felt apprehensive. It seemed like I’d known him forever. I’d certainly been touched by him more intimately than a hand under my elbow, but the gesture seemed so classically chivalrous, I accepted the role of damsel in distress. These thoughts made me pissed off at myself, since I was not, in any way, helpless. At the same time, a secret part of me hoped he’d always be there to keep me from falling when I lost my balance. Completely wrapped up in my internal argument, I didn’t hear his question.

  “I said, are you coming over to talk to Mom about Corey’s little slip-up yesterday?”

  “Yes, I am, but she said she wants to talk to me about something, also.”

  “I have something I want to tell you, too. Do you mind if I sit in on your discussions with Mom?”

  “Of course I wouldn’t mind. Why would you even need to ask? What’s for dinner?”

  “Luckily for you, Dad’s cooking. He’s making Boeuf Bourguignonne. What’s in the bowl?”

  “It’s Rose’s Caledonian cream.”

  “That’s lucky for us, yum.”

  Evan pulled into a driveway on a quaint, older, residential street much like mine. The Keach house had similar architecture to the sunny, yellow house, but was much larger. It also had an attached garage and was newer. A welcoming light came from most of the windows and, as we got closer to the front door, sounds of family life drifted toward me. Jenny shouted something to Evan’s younger siblings.

  She emerged into the foyer wearing a worn, gray smock covered in splatters of paint. “There you are, welcome Maggie. Leave your coat and boots by the front door.”

  After pulling of my boots, I approached her in my stocking feet, jeans and sweater.

  “Follow me up to my studio. I have to clean my brushes before dinner.” She started walking up the stairs and I followed. After a couple of seconds, she stopped, turned around and said to Evan, “Where are you going?”

  He started to protest. “She said I could join you.”

  Jenny thought for a moment. “Oh, all right.”

  ***

  Her studio encompassed the entire attic of the house. The daylight was rapidly fading, but natural sunlight filtered into the room gloriously during the early morning hours. She had several easels and a stool positioned right by the windows facing the street. The partially finished paintings on the easels all had pastels of woodland creatures frolicking in a meadow.

  “These are lovely.”

  “Oh thank you, dear.”

  “Mom illustrates children’s books,” Evan offered.

  “That’s wonderful!” I meant it. Her paintings were good.

  “I’m just going to soak these brushes in thinner. Why don’t you guys get comfortable over there?” She gestured toward the center of the space, which contained two overstuffed and well-used love seats, a recliner and a large, square, low coffee table. She walked to the other side of the attic, where she had a utility sink, a counter, several open shelving units and a couple of cabinets. I took a seat on one of the love seats and Evan sat next to me.

  She started talking first. “Maggie, what did you want to talk to me about?” She worked as she listened.

  “I needed to find out from you what gifts Corey has acquired and to get your opinion on how he’s progressing with learning to control them.”

  “I see. Well,” she looked pensive for a second, wiped her hands on her smock and came over to take a seat in the recliner. “It appears your gifts have been split mostly along gender lines. Corey is by far a more powerful Seer than you are. As a matter of fact, he’s almost as talented as Evan. He doesn’t seem to have any Healer gifts. You have a few Seer gifts, but your real power will be in your ability to heal.”

  I was worried about whether I had any ability to heal, but I kept silent. This was not the time or person for that discussion, so I nodded.

  “Yesterday, Mom,” Evan cut in, “he implied he’d seen a vision of Madison McLeod’s dad. Do you know anything about that?”

  “He did have one dream vision about Madison’s father. He seemed disturbed by the vision and we spent a lot of time talking about it. He thinks Madison might have had a hand in causing her father’s accident. I told him not to discuss the vision with anyone. We can’t afford for him to be exposed as having magical gifts.”

  I groaned, running my hands through my hair, “I stopped him from saying anything else. I hope no one overheard him.”

  “Madison heard him,” Evan frowned.

  “Yes, but she was drunk. No one will believe her.”

  “I hope not,” he said. “So what other gifts have emerged, Mom?”

  “He’s strong with the basics. He can see auras. He can feel harmonic vibrations i
f he stops moving and concentrates. He hardly ever stops talking,” she commented absently. Both Evan and I chuckled in agreement. Then she added, “He sees a lot of visions of the two of you, but I wonder if he’s making those up.”

  “Probably,” Evan and I said in unison, maybe a little too quickly.

  “He’s been seeing a lot of visions about Madison. They’ve made him upset on more than one occasion.”

  “Do you know if he saw the same vision Maggie dreamed about the other day,” Evan asked, slowly.

  “He doesn’t want to talk about those visions, so I’m not sure. I don’t want to pry too much, you know. There’s a whole etiquette and a responsibility which goes along with this profession. If I want him to adopt sensitive behaviors, then I need to afford him the same level of discretion and privacy.”

  I agreed.

  Evan had a suggestion, “Perhaps if you show him your dream diary, he’ll tell you what he’s seen, Maggie.”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  A voice, which sounded very much like Evan’s called up the stairs. “Dinner’s ready!” Evan and I started to rise, but Jenny gestured for us to sit back. “They can wait a few minutes. It’s my turn to talk to you, Maggie.”

  I waited.

  “I’ve had a dream vision, and it’s about you, dear.”

  Evan sat straight up next to me. He apparently didn’t know about this.

  “In my dream you meet three beautiful ghosts. Now, Seers can sometimes communicate with their ancestors, but here’s the thing, these woman all had tanned skin. They dressed in ceremonial Native American outfits. You need to trace your family tree and find out who in your lineage is a full-blooded Cherokee. When they come to visit you, you’ll want to know who they are so you can heed what they say. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, “I think so.”

  Next to me, Evan was thinking.

  I turned to face him. “Your turn…what did you want to say?”

  He shook his head. “We can talk after dinner.”

  ***