The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4)

by Aasheim, April

  “Cozy,” Merry said, looking around. It was a simple room, stone walls and a stone floor, capped by a timber roof. Hazy golden light streamed through the window openings, touching the ends of Merry’s golden hair. She looked like summer incarnate.

  My sister sat on the ground, clearing away the dry leaves. “Hand him to me,” she said, reaching up to take my son. He chortled as I passed him off, then quickly fell to sleep.

  “He’s so trusting,” I said wistfully, sitting across from them. “Do you think we were like that when we were young?”

  Merry shrugged, not wanting to say anything negative, but I knew the answer. We’d been raised as part of a tight community, which meant everyone in Dark Root was either our aunt or uncle. On the positive side, I always felt safe in Dark Root. Conversely, we never bonded with Mother the way I had with Montana, or Merry had with June Bug.

  “We trusted everyone,” I answered for her.

  “And no one,” she said limply. She gazed lovingly at Montana, fingering his tuft of auburn hair. “Mama was a busy woman. She didn’t have time for personal conversations and picnics.”

  “Aunt Dora did.”

  “Yes, she did.” Guilt bubbled in my stomach. I hadn’t spoken to Aunt Dora since I discovered she made the deal with Larinda, especially after learning we weren’t actually blood relatives.

  “It’s all trivial,” Merry said. “Family is family, however it’s formed. And when someone goes out of their way to be there for you and spend time with you, again and again, that person is family.” She widened her eyes and gave me her big sister stare.

  “You’re right.” I answered obediently.

  “Maybe we didn’t need that kind of relationship with Mama,” she continued. “We had each other, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. Anyways, I think Mama did her best.”

  “I hope my best is better,” I said, then regretted it. I had made amends with Mother before she died. Why was I drudging up past mistakes now?

  Merry’s blue eyes gleamed. “Because you’re a parent.”

  “I wish you’d stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?” she asked innocently.

  “If you weren’t holding my son, I’d slug you in the arm.”

  “You’d never slug me,” she said, sticking out her tongue. “You love me too much.”

  “Grrr... I hate that you’re right.”

  “And seriously, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to read you. It’s just that...” she looked down at Montana, who was sucking his thumb. “We’re family. I can’t help it. If you’re experiencing something, I am too. That’s how it’s always been, and how it will always be.”

  She wrapped me in a sheet of warm energy. I relaxed into it, soaking in her protection. Merry’s aura was a reflection of her inner being. Calm. Unflappable. Pure. But at the very center of it, I detected deep sadness.

  “June Bug coming home soon?” I asked.

  She stared at her hands. “Frank says by the end of summer.”

  “What? I thought he said this month!”

  “I know, but he wants to take her to Europe first.”

  Damn, Frank!

  I was instantly angry.

  The ground trembled ever so slightly. Merry wrapped an arm around Montana and braced herself with the other. “Maggie, calm down.”

  “I’m sorry.” I breathed in deeply, to quell the anger. “I hate that he hurts you.”

  “I know.” She laughed, letting her hair drape across her face, so that her eyes were mostly covered. “I’m getting a lawyer.”

  “Good. I’ll chip in so that you can get a good one.”

  Merry shifted her position and changed the subject. “It’s hard to concentrate here. This place is ripe with memories. I know you’re anti-magick right now, but can I do a quick cleanse and a smudge?”

  “Okay.”

  Merry stood, handing me back my son. “This will be a good spot for you to find your inner peace,” she said. “It just needs a bit of a tweak.”

  I watched as my sister removed a bundle of sage from her satchel. She lit the bundle and the rich, pungent scent soon filled the room. I shielded Montana’s nose.

  “Through snow and ice and sun and rain, only positive energy shall remain.” She repeated her incantation three times, wafting the smoke through the door and the open windows.

  Next, she produced a packet of sea salt. She walked the perimeter of the stone building three times, sprinkling the salt as she went. She returned wearing a smile and a pink blush on her cheeks.

  “All done! If something really wants in, it can break through, but I think I got rid of all the stale energy that may have lingered. I’ll check.” She held out her hands. In time, a butterfly flew in through a window, landing on her shoulder. She smiled. “They only come when there’s tranquility.”

  “You can call non-rainbow butterflies too?” I asked astonished. “I want that kind of peace.”

  “You have to work for it. At the same time, it’s not something you can work for. But when you find it, you’ll be even stronger.”

  “A riddle wrapped in a conundrum.”

  “It’s simpler than you think.”

  I looked at Merry with newfound respect. I always knew she was the wisest of us, but I also thought she was the weakest. Now, I was having doubts about the latter assumption.

  Merry began reciting:

  “Wilder running through the night. Chasing the moon, left and right. Scattered thoughts, unruly hair. Challenging others with her stare. But if she learns to find her calm, the world will have a brand new dawn...”

  “Did you make that up?” I asked. “It sounds familiar.”

  “Mama used to sing that to you, when you were a baby. I think she made it up.”

  The thought of cold Sasha Shantay writing a lullaby for me––strange as it may be––was oddly comforting. I smiled. “I wish I had that memory,” I said, wondering why the globes never showed me that side of Mother.

  “When you were a toddler and Mama didn’t know what to do with you, Aunt Dora would say, “Sasha, be patient. A tamed wilder is a powerful witch! She’ll be ruling the Council, one day. Ya’ll see!’”

  “They were already plotting our future.” I paused to move my son to my other arm. “How is Auntie?”

  “She’s broken, Maggie.”

  “What happened?” If I wasn’t holding Montana, I would have shot straight up.

  Merry sighed, but didn’t answer. “I have to go home now. I just came to make sure you were okay. Ruth Anne had me worried, but you seem fine.”

  My sister obviously didn’t want to talk about our aunt, so I let it go. “What’s the hurry?” I asked. “Summer won’t last long.”

  She took a moment to answer. “Michael and I are checking out a property, for a business.”

  My quest for inner peace crumbled. I pulled myself to standing, looking her in the eye. “What kind of business?”

  She laughed nervously, sending the butterfly on its way. It circled her once before flittering out a window. “There’s an old barn for sale on the outskirts. It needs some work, but Maggie, it would be perfect for our business.”

  “Merry, what kind of business?”

  She stretched her arms overhead, interlocking her fingers. “Michael wants to open a dojo.”

  “A karate studio!” I whispered so I wouldn’t yell. “He’s not even a black belt!”

  “He will be after his next test. His sensei says he’s got a gift.”

  “So did the Trojans. You see how that ended.”

  “Maggie...”

  I looked at Montana. It wasn’t right to cuss out his father in front of him, no matter how deserving. “So Michael’s opening a studio, and you’re... you’re working for him?”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “No. We’re thinking of building a wall down the middle. My half of the barn would become an antique shop. It’s always been my dream. What do you think?”

  “Are you kidding me? You never mentione
d wanting an antique shop before.”

  “I know.” She pecked at a stone with the toe of her shoe. “But just because I didn’t tell you, it doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about it. It’s just always been out of reach before. It takes money, but with Michael backing me, my dream could become a reality!”

  “Oh, he’ll back you alright. Back you against a wall so that he can screw you and take your powers, just like all warlocks do.”

  “Maggie! Don’t talk like that, especially in front of your son.”

  “You know as well as I do that the only reason he’s doing this is to get to me,” I hissed. “He doesn’t love you. Barring Montana, I’m not sure he loves anyone.”

  “What are you talking about? I never said I loved him.” My sister pointed a finger at me, inches from my face. “We’re just friends, Maggie. You of all people should know how much I need someone right now. You have Montana, and Paul and Nova are coming back for Eve. I have no one.”

  “June Bug will be coming back.”

  “Will she? Frank’s a doctor with clout. I’m just some hick from a small town who reads Tarot Cards and brews tea.” Tears formed in her eyes and she blinked them away. “I need this business as a distraction while I sort things out. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

  “Because he’s my ex-boyfriend and my baby’s father. You’re crossing a line.”

  “Even if it’s not hurting you or Montana? You’re too possessive. You never let anything go, even the things you should.” She bit her lip. “Or is there more? Do you want to be with Michael again?”

  “God, no! But I don’t want you to have him either.”

  “And there it is,” she said, flinging her arms out to the side. “At least you admitted it.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “It’s exactly what you meant. You need to grow up. I’m your sister and I love you and I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  “I know, but Michael’s a warlock, Merry. Do you know what that means?”

  “Yes. I’ve known since the moment I met him in Kansas, when I was looking for you by the way. He has abilities. How else would he have lured you away so easily? But that doesn’t mean he’s a warlock. The word warlock means liar and deceiver? It’s demeaning.”

  “But he did lie and deceive me.”

  “He’s human. We all do stupid things. Do we pay penance forever? You of all people should understand that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Figure it out.”

  “I just don’t want you to be hurt when you discover that this is all part of his game to get me back.”

  “Let it go, Maggie,” Merry said, draping her satchel across her shoulder. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

  I stared at Merry and she stared back, her jaw clenched and her arms folded. “I just think we need to keep boundaries,” I said.

  She sighed. “I came out here to help you. But if you want me to leave you alone, I will. Maybe you can just live out here and not have to deal with us at all. Is that enough of a boundary for you?”

  “Maybe,” I said, hugging Montana into my hip.

  “I’m going now. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Don’t save me dinner. I’m foraging tonight! Lots of berries and nuts and all sorts of things in the woods.”

  “Fine by me.” She flipped her hand. “One less bowl to wash.” She left, disappearing down the path.

  “We might just stay here forever, right Montana?” I asked, bouncing him. “We don’t mind being alone.”

  Montana latched on to my finger, putting it inside of his mouth. He was getting hungry. And even if I could forage for berries, he was going to need something substantial soon, as well as a diaper change.

  THIRTEEN

  Good Vibrations

  MONTANA AND I spent the rest of the afternoon in the stone shelter. Periodically, we strolled in the surrounding woods to get our bearings. The forest here was ancient. Every tree had a story, and I could almost hear their whispers from the past. There was not a cloud in the sky and the air smelled sweet and clean. The faint sound of a gurgling creek played in the distance like background music. It was a solitary existence and I quickly understood why Jillian sought refuge here, away from the demands of Mother and the Council.

  I was now wishing I had viewed the next globe before handing the case over to Ruth Anne. What happened between Jillian and Armand out here, in this secret place?

  “Got any ideas?” I asked Montana as we walked. He suckled my arm in response.

  As the day wore on, I knew I should head back. But I didn’t want to face Merry. Our fight seemed silly now and I was too embarrassed to admit it. True, I didn’t like the idea of her and Michael opening a business together, but as usual, my emotions had gotten the best of me.

  “I’ll learn to control my temper,” I promised my son. “By the time you can understand what I’m saying, I’ll have life all figured out.”

  We came across a stumpy bush with purple berries. I sniffed at them, then popped several in my mouth. They were terribly bitter and I quickly spit them out. “I guess we better go home,” I said. “Mommy’s not fit to forage.”

  My son smiled and pressed his palm sweetly to my chin. I kissed it, wondering if this memory would be captured by the trees as well.

  As we neared the structure to gather our things, Montana howled, his fingers digging into my arms. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I sensed we weren’t alone anymore.

  I clutched Montana tightly. Who knew how many restless spirits wandered the land? The dead didn’t contain themselves to one generation or even one century. They crawled the landscape, overlapping each other like sediments of rock. They blinked in and out of our reality, though most people never sensed them.

  But I did, and apparently, so did my son.

  I stood there, holding him, until the feeling of unease vanished. “Poor Montana. Mommy’s sorry you got that gift. Just remember, ghosts are like Auntie Eve’s face without makeup. Not pleasant, but not something you should run from either.”

  I laughed at my joke, wishing Ruth Anne or Eve herself were around to hear.

  Pointing towards the ruins, I said, “Merry cleansed the building and no spirits will get in. We’ll hang a broom over the doorway, put up a bubble shield, sprinkle sea salt and hang garlic––”

  More witchery.

  “––Or maybe we’ll just put up a ‘No Trespassing’ sign and see how that works.”

  Montana tensed in my arms and I froze just outside the doorway. The formerly dusky room suddenly brightened, as if someone had turned on a light, and a young Jillian appeared wearing a white cotton dress. Her hair was done up in flowers and she held a paintbrush in her hand, her lips pursed in concentration.

  I retreated a step, my eyes never leaving the vision. Unlike the spirit presence we felt a minute earlier, this wasn’t real. It was a living memory, a hologram, kept secret and preserved in the stone. It was unnerving, none the less.

  “Oh, Jillian,” I sighed, watching as she studied her blank canvas, her eyes bright and hopeful.

  The image dispersed, taking the light with it. The woods surrounding us grew vocal, as nocturnal creatures began creeping from their burrows. This area might be quiet during the day, but there was a cacophony of chatter that resounded at twilight. I grabbed Montana’s bag and hurried to find the trail that led home.

  As we made our way back, I felt eyes watching me. Sure enough, the largest raven I’d ever seen studied me from atop a branch. Its feathers shined like new oil. I quickened my pace but the raven followed, seemingly manifesting from one branch to another.

  “Shoo!” I hissed, but the bird magically kept pace. Finally, I picked up a rock. “You don’t frighten me. I’ve been through too much to be scared by you.”

  The raven regarded me, tilting its head, amused.

  “You don’t scare me!” I repeated louder, chucking the rock in its direct
ion.

  It opened its beak, its caw like thunder. We’ll see about that, Maggie Maggie.

  THE WEEK AFTER my visit to the forest ticked by slowly, which was fine by me. The summers were short here and I avowed to enjoy the sun while it lasted.

  Sister House now felt cleaner, as well.

  There were hints of magick of course, but the heavy energy left over from Mother’s reign had dissipated, leaving only trace residue. And though I missed the nostalgia of living in The Addams Family house, my physical condition had improved. Both my fevers and nausea had lessened. I still had no idea why I was cursed, but I was fighting it off, and winning.

  Merry and I were stiffly pleasant to one another after our encounter, though we spoke less often. Sometimes we’d smile as we passed each other in the kitchen or the hall, offering sly grins to let the other know we were open to an apology. But neither of us caved. After several days, I forgot why we were fighting until Merry rolled up in Michael’s van. It was now emblazoned with a Yin and Yang symbol. The sign read: Mike’s Martial Arts Academy. And beneath that, Nut Up––Kick Some Butt.

  “I’m only going to say this once,” I said to my son as we stared through the window. “Your daddy’s an idiot.”

  My sister and Michael stood next to the parked van, facing one another. Michael leaned against the van door, nodding eagerly as Merry spoke. Her expressions and posture vacillated between excitement and worry. Michael lifted her chin, and held it there.

  The lights in the room flickered in warning.

  Ruth Anne looked up at me from the TV. “Hey!” she protested.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, but the lights were beyond my control by this point, flashing on and off like a thunderstorm. Ruth Anne grunted and marched upstairs.

  As I watched, Merry put her face in her hands and cried, her shoulders rolling as the tears flowed. Michael took her in his arms, embracing her. My heart sunk. I should be the one comforting my sister, not Michael. I turned away, unable to look further.