“At first I thought the meadow. But now, knowing that might be where she was struck, I think the circle,” Agnes shrugged. “We haven’t bothered to make a new one yet. Is that in poor taste? I think it might help me feel closer to her.”
“I think the woods will be perfect.” Izzy let Edith’s memory in for a moment. “She loved to dance.” Izzy felt a smile tentatively creep onto her mouth. The image of Edith dancing with sheer joy helped soften the heartache of loss.
“She did,” Agnes jumped up. “Remember that time, you were young, barely in school. And we broke the circle and danced for hours through the woods, skyclad. Not a care in the world.” Agnes’ giggle had Izzy jerking to attention. Agnes hadn’t sounded so relaxed and carefree in years. Izzy wondered how much raising her had robbed Agnes of her youth.
Agnes caught Izzy’s expression. “Not for a single moment.”
“What?”
“I meant it the other day,” Agnes gently scolded. “You are my heart. I might have become more serious-minded when you came into my home, but I’ve always been a bit of a stick in the mud. If anything, you gave me back the joy of living. So, don’t ever think I regret raising you, Isadora.”
“Do you have the pictures still? From when I was small?”
Agnes stood, “Of course I do. I have most of them in a box in the guest room. Give me just a moment.”
Izzy contemplated the room while she waited. No matter what she might learn about her mother and her life, this would always be home to her.
“Found it!” Agnes shouted from the other room. She bustled in with a shirt box that she laid on the table. “I haven’t looked at these in years.”
Izzy opened the box. Pictures and mementos slid off the top onto the table, the box was so full. Izzy sifted through things until she came upon a folded piece of paper. “What’s this?”
“I’m not certain,” Agnes leaned over to get a better look.
Izzy unfolded it, flattening it on the table in front of her, they both read silently together.
Hello,
I am writing to you in hopes you will allow me and my young daughter to come to your village and join your coven. Circumstances, where we currently reside, are worrisome, and I worry we need to relocate soon. I promise not to bring trouble if you accept me in…
“Is this…?” Izzy almost didn’t want to ask. To verbalize it.
Agnes understood and lifted her shoulders in uncertainty. “I honestly can’t say. I don’t remember ever having seen this before. Ever. I promise you, Isadora.”
Izzy kept her eyes on the paper, afraid to see a lie on Agnes’ face. Her words rang true. At some point, she needed to trust. Agnes had never let her down, and Izzy was ashamed that she doubted her, even for a second.
“Do you think it was her?”
“It certainly reads that way. I wonder how that got in here.”
Izzy picked up a few more pictures. The past was done. Over. The woman had left her behind and hadn’t come back in over twenty years. She needed to move on too.
“Thanks for getting these out. I need to get home though,” Izzy stood.
Agnes nodded, “I understand.”
“We should do this again soon.” Izzy reached out and squeezed Agnes’ hand. “Do you mind if I take this with me?”
“It’s yours if you want it. Any of these.”
Izzy picked up the letter, refolding it precisely to its original shape. “Dodger’s probably wondering where I am. I haven’t fed him yet today.”
“I understand.” She said again. Agnes stood as well, tidying the pictures back into the box.“You’re welcome to stop by anytime. You know that, right?”
Izzy walked over to Agnes. “And you the same. Thanks again for dinner. It was wonderful.” Izzy leaned over and gave her mother a quick hug and peck on her cheek. “Love you.” She stepped back and saw her reflection in Agnes’ eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Izzy
Two days later, Izzy was still wrestling with questions she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers to. The letter she’d taken from Agnes’ home lay on a table in her bedroom. She couldn’t help but wonder how it had found its way into that box. Had Agnes lied? It was possible. It was just as possible the letter wasn’t from her mother at all. Some unknown woman who had never come to Wits’ End. The truth was, she would probably never know for sure.
Worse than the unanswered questions was a feeling of wrongness that persisted. At first, she’d thought she was tired, so she slept more. She tried meditation, aromatherapy, and even yoga. No matter what she did, there was an itch or prickling under her skin. Like she was no longer alone in her body. Even the thought made her shudder. Something had to give and soon. It was clear, all the talk about how change was coming was getting to her.
Everyone assumed her birthday was around the corner. How quickly was up for debate, but even she knew it would eventually come. She wasn’t sure if the feelings she was experiencing were psychosomatic or if what she felt was real. Either way, it didn’t change anything.
The coffee cup she’d abandoned earlier rested in front of her on the patio table. Her morning had begun where she currently sat, watching the sunrise and listening to the birds chirping their good morning.
Their cheery demeanor hadn’t calm her. Her restlessness was calling to her to act. She needed to blow off some serious steam.
She lifted her arms, stretching all the way down to her fingertips. Current arced from the tips as she reached out.
Over the last few weeks, Izzy had focused all her energies on practicing protection spells. Blocks, shields, anything that could keep her and anyone with her safe. This morning though, safety was not on her mind. She wanted to fight, release some pressure. With a glance at her fingertips, she didn’t stop and think. She needed to feel the fire; appease her ravening need to destroy.
She walked to the precipice of the patio, rolled her neck in a circular motion, and then studied the terrain. She was ready to attack, lay siege, even if it was only her backyard. Arms at her sides, back straight, Izzy stepped out onto the grass, embracing the elements. Slowly she opened her palms, felt the fire gather and linger just beneath the surface. She released a trace of energy, let it dance in the air. With head raised, she scanned her environment and chose a bush at the edge of her yard as her target.
Without thought or any further planning, she attacked. Volley after volley, she threw perfect balls of fire at the bush. The flames scorched and burned. Each building the strength of the blaze. Flames licked at the leaves, embedded in its heart. Every last vestige of Izzy’s anger and resentment was unleashed on the defenseless plant.
Mere minutes later, the bush decimated. The remaining stump quietly crackled with remnants of the flames and smoke, but the branches, the healthy green was gone. Destroyed by her magic. Tears rolling down her face, Izzy stared at what she’d done. She had broken one of the core oaths. And it hurt none. Shame all but crippled her.
Lend me your power, Goddess I fear,
I’ve taken life from what you hold dear.
Forgive me, I ask and help me undo,
Give life back, to what you once grew.
Please see my pain, and answer my plea,
As You will, so mote it be.
Eyes closed, Isadora was afraid to peek. To even ask such a boon from the Goddess was presumptuous. Yet, she’d done it anyway. And now, she needed to face and live with the repercussions of her actions.
The sound of applause coming from behind her jarred Izzy to swiveling around without a glance toward the bush.
“Impressive!” Sebastian stood about ten feet behind her. He leaned against the railing of her deck, watching her with a gleam in his eye. “That was very impressive indeed! How long have you been able to give life back to the dead?”
“I haven’t! I didn’t!” Confused, she glanced back at her ‘victim’. The bush stood as before, branches thick and full of greenery. She couldn’t contain her gasp.
“Worked better than you expected?”
“I didn’t. I expected nothing,” Isadora shook her head, denying what she saw with her eyes, “I just asked for a boon. That’s the Goddess’ work. Not mine.”
Sebastian disagreed. “No, I have a feeling you could have managed that feat entirely without her help.”
“The Goddess is the source of our power. Without her favor, a witch is nothing.”
“For a regular witch, I would most certainly agree. However, you’re no regular witch, are you, Isadora?”
Izzy hummed softly. “I would have to disagree. I feel the same.” She felt the lie as soon as it passed her lips. The little bit of magic she’d just practiced fed something. She could feel the need to do more growing inside her. She fought its greedy grasp.
“You should practice more,” Sebastian nodded toward the yard. “We could set up some targets for you. The more you do, the more comfortable you will be when it's needed.”
“I don’t plan on needing anything.”Izzy bristled at his words. “I appreciate the thought, Sebastian, but I think I’m done for now.” She moved around him, heading for the back door of her house.
“No one wants to need the ability to annihilate. Yet, we all have enemies. Some more than most. Preparation is only the smart thing to do,” he called after her.
“It’s time for me to go back inside. I have things I need to take care of,” she lied. “Was there a reason you stopped by?”
“I just wanted to check on you. See how you’re progressing.” Sympathy came into his eyes. “Agnes wanted me to remind you, Edith’s memorial is this evening.”
Izzy nodded. “I know. I’ll be there.”
“Excellent,” Sebastian let his eyes linger on her face a moment. “Well, I won’t keep you.”
“Good to see you, Sebastian.” Her curt words belied the message.
“Until tonight, then.”
“Yes, until tonight.”
◆◆◆
The remaining ladies of the coven gathered in the forest where their circle once stood. Agnes suggested that celebrating Edith’s life in the spot where she’d taken her last breath might complete a circle. Heal the ground and bring Edith peace.
A few others in addition to the coven members joined them. Sebastian was there, along with a few of Edith’s friends from town. Agnes and Izzy immediately got to work. Agnes used her athame to casting a line for the circle when the sheriff walked up.
“Ladies,” he nodded, tipping his hat to each of them. “I hope you don’t mind. Jonathan and I thought we might observe and show our respects.”
Agnes smiled in greeting. “I don’t mind. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.”
Wren and Lilly snickered at this offer.
Sheriff Pope let the amusement pass and just offered a smile. “I’m good, I’ll just stay over here. But thanks just the same.”
“Of course,” Agnes gazed back serenely.
Izzy lit a smudge stick to purify, taking care to circumvent the area three times. Meanwhile, Agnes and Cass passed candles around to each member of the group that wanted one. When all were inside, they passed the salt, pouring it wide, one to the next until the circle was closed.
Mementos were placed in the center of the circle. A picture of Edith in her youth, a piece of jewelry she held dear, a book she had loved. Everyone added something. Then, turning back to the center, without hesitation, the women reached forward collectively and loosened the belt of their robes. As if by practiced coordination, the robes fell to the ground unnoticed. Wren couldn’t resist peeking over her shoulder and spying the sheriff’s reaction. Her chortle of amusement due to the look of shock on his face earned her an elbow in her side from Agnes.
“We’re here for Edith, not for play,” she was reminded.
Wren immediately turned back to the group, wiping her face clear of any mischief. Agnes was right. Today, now, this was for Edith. Young and old, they came to the circle and bared their bodies in celebration of the life of Edith Philpot.
Candles were lit, then Agnes called for Edith to join them. Izzy swore she could feel her friend’s presence. Taking turns, the women shared tales of mirth and remembrance. They sang her praises and forgave her transgressions. When it came Izzy’s turn, she simply thanked her. For finding her and helping her on that fateful night years ago. For being her friend when she needed one and being wise counsel even when Izzy was certain she didn’t want it.
“A true friend and constant comfort. Seek your comfort now, Edith. You will be missed.”
Flames lept as the ceremony turned to dance. Some chanted, others just moved their body to the music that played in their heads. But, each of them shared one last moment with their friend before saying goodbye. Izzy felt her mind relax, her soul take flight. Miss you, old woman, she thought.
Miss you, too.
Izzy didn’t care if the words were imagined or not. She let them sink deep into her heart.
As if every step had been pre-planned, as a group, the women stopped. Sorrow replaced their momentary joy as they re-entered the world of the living.
“We need to set her free,” Agnes instructed them. She lifted the lid of the urn, taking a small bit of Edith’s ashes with her. Then, breaking the circle, Agnes stepped a few feet away. Creating a breeze, she opened her hand and released her friend. “Goodbye, Edith.”
The women took turns sending Edith on her new journey. Each utilizing their element to help Edith find her way. Sparks danced in the air as Wren set the ashes to fire. Lilly doused the ashes in her hand, letting the water from her hand carry charcoaled remains into the soil.
Agnes moved back to the circle and retrieved her robe. She tugged it closed and walked over to where the sheriff still observed.
“Was it what you expected?”
“No. Can’t say that it was,” he admitted. “But then, I also can’t say I have ever been more moved by a funeral. Thank you for letting me stay.”
“Usually, our ceremonies are private. But, you did all right, sheriff.” Agnes punched him lightly on his arm. A bark of laughter broke from his chest.
“Do you usually do that? The thing with the robes.”
“Yes. It’s only prudent with the dancing and the candlelight, don’t you think?
“I think you, the group as a whole, took my breath away. There was such a feminity to it. I felt a bit like a Peeping Tom if I’m honest.”
Agnes laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if some of our group danced for you.”
The sheriff appeared stunned for a moment. “I’m not sure how to take that.”
“I’m not saying myself, sheriff. You can just get that out of your head now,” Agnes countered sternly.
His eyes rounded in alarm. Whatever he would have said next was interrupted by the loud approach of someone hurrying in their direction. They heard the rustling of leaves first. Everyone turned as one.
“You didn’t even invite me? She was my friend too!” Maeve raged forward in full ire. “This is an insult! How dare you!”
Gideon followed her, mere steps behind. He didn’t speak but watched the altercation with a tint of glee in his eyes.
Agnes spun away from the sheriff and stormed over to Maeve. “How dare you! We, all of us here, we’re here to celebrate Edith. Not ourselves. How dare you to come into our circle and demand your fair share! You’ve burned your bridges, Maeve. There’s nothing left for you here.”
“I have just as much right to mourn my friend as you do!”
Agnes agreed, “You do.” Her head nodding. “Just not here. And most definitely, not now.”
“You will pay for this slight, Agnes! If it is the last thing I do,” Maeve spat.
As quickly as she descended, Maeve and Gideon turned and marched away. Gideon never once said a word. He’d already completed his mission of separating the coven. Divide and conquer. Agnes knew what he was about. But Gideon would not win.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Izzy
/> Izzy woke to a piercing headache. Her first thought was to call Cass and bail on work. She couldn’t imagine functioning much less interacting with clients in her current state. Not allowing herself to take the easy way out, Izzy pushed herself up to a sitting position and blearily eyed the room. The walls swayed to and fro along with her stomach. She barely made it to the bathroom before hurling whatever remained in her belly into the toilet.
“I’m dying,” she moaned to the room. There was no soothing voice or patient caretaker to make the pain go away. No one there to care about her demise.
When her tummy seemed to have settled some, Izzy pushed herself up and leaned against the vanity by the sink. She risked rinsing her mouth with plain water. She waited. With trepidation, Izzy gambled with her uneasy stomach and grabbed her toothbrush. She hesitated applying the mint toothpaste to the brush, but she wanted that vile aftertaste gone. Braced for another revolt, she brushed her teeth. The mint felt cool and refreshing, even her stomach seemed to approve. Next, she grabbed a washcloth from a drawer, dousing it under the faucet with semi-cold water then pressing it to her eyes.
“Thank you, Goddess,” she moaned. The spikes behind her eyes receded slightly. With bleary eyes, she searched and found the aspirin in the medicine cabinet. She popped two pills into her mouth and washed them down with water. Her image glared back at her from the mirror above the sink.
“Good morning to you too,” she groused at her reflection.
Izzy stumbled to her bed and laid back down to give the medicine time to work. Twenty minutes, she promised herself and flipped on the alarm so she didn’t oversleep. She groaned when what felt like seconds later it beeped that time was up.
A pitiful whimper sounded from her mouth. Horrified at her whining, Izzy got moving. She took a deep breath. Her headache wasn’t quite as bad, she admitted grudgingly.
If she had any hope of moving forward, she needed caffeine. With no quarter given, she pushed back out of bed and shuffled half-blind into the kitchen. On automatic, she reached in and retrieved the coffee beans from the freezer. Next, she moved toward the coffee grinder but then remembered it was a new bag.
Marked: Thoth's Legacy ~ Book One Page 18
