by Tay LaRoi
Winter
An Unusual Yule Gift
Pulling back the curtains, Alyssa looked at the raging blizzard outside. It was day three of the storm and it still wasn’t giving up. The blowing winds had drifted snow across the back door to the apartment building where she lived. She wasn’t going anywhere for a few days.
But there was food in the house, a warm pot of tea on the counter, and a stack of interesting books to read, although she had read most of them before. Alyssa took a sip from her mug. The tea was her own mix of rosehips and hibiscus flowers, with just a dash of peppercorns.
Settling into her big comfy chair, Alyssa pulled her blanket up around her. She pulled out her Shadow Book and studied the spells she had written in early September. With a flick of her wrist and a twitch of her finger, the candles around the room ignited.
There. That’s better.
The warm glow of candlelight always soothed her, particularly when it was so grey outside. It didn’t take long for the faint odor of melting paraffin wax to permeate the room.
From where she sat, a three-tiered plant stand sat in the front window, its shelves bursting with foliage. Most were herbs, but there was a coleus that brightened up the cart with its mottled colors and spikes of tiny white and purple flowers. An orchid was in bloom as well, sporting outlandish flowers with garish colors. It was a cheery sight.
Alyssa got up and turned on the fluorescent tubes of the light stand, and as they flickered to life, a warm white light radiated throughout the living room.
A small terra-cotta pot sat in the middle of the top shelf, a wide berth around it so that whatever sprouted would have lots of room to stretch and grow. Hidden under the soil was the seed Elah had given her. She had planted it the day after the Samhain holiday, and it had been almost two months with no sign of life. No sprout, no little green thing poking out of the rich brown soil. Nothing.
Alyssa had even carefully dug down to see if the seed was still good and hadn’t rotted. Something she knew she should never do, but she just couldn’t help herself. She ran her finger over the rim of the pot, silently wishing to herself…
I wish you were here with me.
Glancing through the frost-laden windows, Alyssa shivered. Just thinking about Elah asleep in her tree, surrounded by the frozen landscape, made her feel terribly lonely, wishing spring would hurry up so she could visit the grove again.
After the last holiday, there had been no phone calls. Yule was only a few days away. Rachel hadn’t called to tell her she was out, but then no one had called her to inform her of the Yule celebrations. Was this the same exile Jenny had experienced? Alyssa had even called Samantha, several times, but always got her voicemail.
Samantha had never called back.
Didn’t matter. She had been a solitary practicing witch before, she could be one again.
But she needed to see Elah, and that meant she’d have to trespass on Rachel’s family’s land. But if it meant seeing that tree, being able to run her hand over the bark of the oak, or maybe even kissing the spot where she knew she could see Elah’s sleeping face, then she’d do it.
What have I got to lose?
RACHEL CAUTIOUSLY PUSHED the door open but just a crack.
The old farmhouse allowed no one to have secrets. The door, tired and worn, creaked as she opened it.
“Dammit,” Rachel whispered.
“Rachel, is that you?” A hoarse voice crackled. It was laden with age, and the words were followed by a wet phlegmy cough.
“Sorry, Grandmamma,” Rachel said. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“Come here. Come sit with me,” Grandmamma said. Her wrinkled eyes were unfocused and sunken with age.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Rachel stood at the door, not wanting to enter. There was something about the smell of the old woman that unsettled her. She knew Grandmamma would need another “treatment” soon.
“I’m so tired of resting. Tired of having you wait on me hand and foot. Come here. I have something I want to tell you.”
Rachel pushed the door open and then shivered as she realized how cold it was in the room. She picked up the poker near the fireplace and pushed the embers around a little. The remaining wood caught flame again, and Rachel added more fuel to the fire.
Oak smelled nice when it burned.
“Goodness, stop fussing, and quit stalling. Come sit.” Grandmamma coughed again. Her frail body shuddered as she held a used kerchief up to her face. The sound made Rachel queasy.
Giving in and trying hard not to breathe in too deeply, Rachel went over and sat.
“It’s not nice, is it? Watching an old woman slowly dying? You have to stop this Rachel. Stop it. I don’t want you tainted with the same sins I’ve committed.”
“But Grandmamma, we have to.”
“No, girl. We chose to. Do you know how old I really am?”
“No.” Rachel’s long straight hair hung in thick strands hiding most of her face. She didn’t pull it back. She didn’t want Grandmamma to see how afraid and sad she was.
“Look at me.”
Rachel sighed heavily and held her head up and looked at her grandmamma, the woman who had raised her. Rachel was ashamed of the tears that rolled down her face.
“Don’t cry. It’s okay. It’s time. I’ve never really told you how old, how many ‘treatments’ I went through. I’m two hundred and twelve years of age. Twenty years for each sacrifice, which means that we killed eight of them. Eight, Rachel. I had to do my first one when I was fifty-two. At first it was easy; they weren’t as evolved as they are now. And I was just following the tradition laid down by the women that came before us. I was the generation that got to live, and so it was my right.
“But they changed, Rachel—they’ve become too human. The last tree I cut down, the nymph I pulled out of that tree—she looked too much like one of us. But I still went through with it, the sap inside that nymph—her life-giving liquid—those stains will never fade from my soul. She pleaded with me, you know. I could tell by the look in the creature’s eyes when I… And what did I get for it? A body that looked like it was much younger than it was. But only on the outside. Inside I hurt. My joints are worn, and my muscles are weak. This isn’t a life. It’s an illusion.” Grandmamma closed her eyes; her breath rattling as she finished the last sentence.
“But if we don’t, Grandmamma, you’ll die.”
“Rachel, sweetie, I’m going to die anyway. We all have to. I’ve cheated death for too many years, and I fear my passing is not going to be pleasant. Death does not like to be cheated. Tell me, has Elah chosen someone yet?”
“I think so. I’m pretty sure.” Rachel thought of Alyssa and her magically healed hand.
“Good. Then let nature take its course. The groves should be replenished. You need to recruit for Elah and Lilifolia, but then I want you to stop it. No more. I am giving up on my ‘right’, and I want you to promise me you’ll never exercise yours.”
“But mother sacrificed herself for me to have that right!”
“Yes, that was the deal. One of ours for one of theirs. Except we’ve cheated. We didn’t take one for one. We took eight to their one. And I know Elah has grown angry and bitter because of it. We gave them a semblance of humanity; they gave us the illusion of immortality. The more human Elah grows, the more she’ll attempt to exact revenge. Taking her companions over and over was never fair to her. Not to mention all the human girls we’ve tricked into becoming them.”
Rachel hung her head. She knew it was the right thing to do, and yet she had always been promised an extra-long life.
“Promise me. Promise me it ends.” Grandmamma reached out and held Rachel’s hand.
It was surprising how hard a grip she had for a dying woman.
“Say it, Rachel. Promise me,” Grandmamma demanded.
Gritting her teeth, Rachel wasn’t as convinced about this as the old woman was. With doubt and uncertainty, she managed to spout out, “I promis
e I won’t kill the dryads.”
A faint glow radiated out from the two clenched hands.
Damn you, old woman. You use your last bit of strength to bind me to something I won’t do. We’ll see how far your old-woman magic goes.
Before Rachel left Grandmamma to sleep, she tucked the blankets in around her and fluffed her pillows.
Grandmamma didn’t wake up the next morning.
THE MORNING OF Yule, Alyssa awoke and started her day, flipping the on switch to the coffee machine. She had given up on the Sacred Earth coven. Clearly, she had been ousted, and she would be celebrating the holiday and practicing her craft on her own.
With a hot cup of coffee, black and strong, she walked over to her plants. Every morning she spent a few minutes poking and preening, splashing water on whoever needed it.
In the tiny little naked terra-cotta pot, a small green sprout sat up, proud.
Alyssa squealed with delight.
Perhaps Yule was going to be just fine after all.
Growing into Imbolc
Alyssa was elbows deep in dirt and desperately trying to balance the massive sprawling vines onto a huge custom trellis, all while placing everything into the largest clay pot she had scoured the city to find. The phone rang.
“For Christ’s sake,” Alyssa swore.
Laying everything down carefully on the spread-out newspaper, she smeared dirt across her shirt, wiping her hands clean. Reaching for the buzzing cell phone, she tapped the answer button.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Alyssa?” Rachel’s voice, which was usually much sterner, had a softness to it.
Are you fucking kidding me?
“Yes, Rachel, it’s me. What do you want?” Alyssa didn’t really have it in her to be nice.
“Look, I’m sorry. Sacred Earth didn’t do anything at Yule. I was looking after my grandmother, and she passed away. That morning actually.”
Alyssa instantly felt guilty.
“Oh, Rachel, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“No, no one did. I kept it quiet. I didn’t want to burden anyone.”
“Rachel, that’s what Coven is for. We’re supposed to help each other, you know?”
“Yeah, I know, but…well, Grandma was a private person. I didn’t want a bunch of strangers in the house. It just would have upset her. Anyway, I’m calling all the girls. I’d like to make it up to everyone. I’m going to host Imbolc here at the grove. We’ll do it midafternoon, and I’ll have a big bonfire. Hopefully, that will keep us nice and warm. What do you think? Will you come?” Rachel asked.
Ugh. Now I can’t even be mad at her for slicing me open. But if I go then I can see Elah…
“Yeah, I can come. What can I bring?”
“Nothing. I got it all. Besides, last time didn’t end well, so…”
“Okay,” Alyssa interrupted. She didn’t want to rehash painful memories. “What time?”
Alyssa wrote down the important bits, starred it, and then circled the information.
The rest of the afternoon was spent wrestling with and repositioning Elah’s vine, which had grown incredibly fast and sent out several side shoots. There were a handful of flower buds forming. Alyssa still hadn’t identified the plant, but then she wasn’t sure a seed that had come from the center of a dryad was going to be categorized in Better Homes and Gardens Encyclopedia of Houseplants.
ON THE SECOND of February, Alyssa drove herself to Rachel’s rural farm site. She got lost a couple of times. Not being raised in the country, she was unfamiliar with directions of “Turn at the second range road and follow that for three kilometers. Then make the first left.” When she finally found the place, she was late and completely turned around.
There were other cars in the drive, but no one was present. After getting out of the car, she spun, several times, looking for the path that led from the farmhouse to the sacred grove. There were a couple to choose from.
Footsteps were scattered about in the snow everywhere she looked. It hadn’t snowed since the blizzard, and the temperatures had plunged afterward, freezing everything solid. It was impossible to tell if the prints were fresh or not.
Hurriedly, Alyssa chose a path and started a fast trot down it.
Honestly, I don’t even know why I care that much. After last time…I don’t even know why I came.
Yes, I do…Elah.
The path wound several times, and even though it was still winter, the surrounding forest seemed to close in around her. Usually, walking to the grove made her feel lighthearted and hopeful, but the farther she walked into the dense brush, the quieter everything seemed to get, and the closer everything felt.
Alyssa grabbed her parka hood and pulled it in tight. Suddenly the air was sharp with ice, and Alyssa glanced over her shoulder every few feet. Something was watching her every step.
The path opened up, and she found herself in the grove.
But it wasn’t the grove.
This one was empty and heavy with the smell of sawdust in the air.
There at the end of the clearing, an oak tree had been cut. A chainsaw lay at the trunk’s base on top of a pile of shavings from the tree.
That didn’t explain the blood splatter across the snow.
Alyssa stood there, jaw open, eyes wide as a sickening feeling washed over her.
Elah!
Rushing over to the tree, she knelt down at the base, running her hand over the oak tree’s bark.
A hand reached out from the tree, covered in blood, and grabbed onto her parka. The limb was rough and covered in tough bark, and it was strong. A face appeared in front of her, snarling, with sharp pointed teeth and harsh lime-green eyes. It snapped at Alyssa.
“No! No! I didn’t do this!” Alyssa screamed.
It wasn’t Elah, Alyssa was certain. Elah would never do this to her.
The dryad fell out of the tree. Its movements were jerky and spasmodic, still clinging to Alyssa, it crawled on top of her.
The bloodied beast studied Alyssa, her eyes slowly changing from their angry lime color to ice blue. Alyssa tried to fight back, and even though the anger and strength ebbed in the creature, she was pinned. Blood dripped off of its body smearing all over Alyssa’s clothes.
The thing bent over and kissed Alyssa, a kiss filled with rage and blood.
Rachel stood in the clearing, the sun just barely reaching the tops of the trees. The angry scream of the chainsaw pierced Alyssa’s ears as it drowned out every other sound.
The blade cut into the wood of the tree and Alyssa felt as if a knife was sawing at her midsection. She screamed in agony, blood welling up from the cut. A sudden sense of panic flooded through her.
She was going to die.
Rachel put the chainsaw down after a sizable notch had been made. She reached her hand into the wound, despite the blood that was pouring out, and grabbed onto something. Yanking and pulling, Rachel finally pried the dryad out. There was a torrent of fluid, blood and sap, as if she had pulled a newborn calf out of a heifer.
Lilifolia screamed an unearthly shriek as panic consumed her. She scrambled and desperately tried to claw her way back into her oak tree.
Rachel grabbed the dryad’s ankle and hauled it away from the tree, all while the shrieking and screaming continued. Rachel held an axe in the other hand.
With a swoop, she saw Rachel’s arms fly up, the axe held high above her head aimed towards the cowering creature.
A glow surrounded Rachel’s hands, and she couldn’t move. The axe stayed where it was, in the air, held high above her head.
“Damn you, old woman!” Rachel yelled.
Rachel screamed in frustration. She dropped the axe and stomped out of the grove.
The dryad, covered in sticky sap and blood, curled into itself. In the dead of winter, it was never supposed to leave the confines of its tree. She would die exposed to the brutal winter elements. After lying in the snow for a time, whimpering, she slowly crawled back to her tree; shivering, freezin
g, she climbed in, but the wound to her oak was too great. The tree was dying, and that meant she would too.
“Help me.”
Alyssa heard the words clearly as she looked at the dryad’s imploring face.
She couldn’t believe Rachel had done this. Alyssa was mad as hell.
Rachel was going to pay for this. How could she? Alyssa had no idea how to help a wounded dryad. But then…
Elah’s vine.
It wasn’t as big as the oak, but maybe, just maybe.
“I hope this works. Please trust me. I’m so sorry. This is all wrong.”
Lilifolia closed her eyes. Alyssa cradled the dryad. When the forest creature wasn’t fighting, the poor thing weighed next to nothing.
Alyssa drove as fast as she could home.
Spring
The Fruit of Ostara
A lot happened after the Imbolc ceremony that Alyssa never attended.
Lilifolia took to Elah’s vine. She crawled into the plant structure, but the vine stretched and distorted as she merged with the plant. It was engorged with the dryad’s form. It sort of looked like a boa constrictor that had swallowed prey that was far too large for its body to contain. Alyssa could make out the dryad’s arms and legs, and at times, when she moved, her face would be visible beneath the thin bark of the supple vine. It looked like a tight sheet pulled over the dryad’s face. It was a little disturbing, but the rest of her plants in the apartment had taken note of the creature’s presence. Everything was lush and vibrant, and flowers were blooming everywhere—even on plants that Alyssa didn’t even know would flower.
Rachel had called. There was the slightest hint of annoyance in her voice. Alyssa explained that she had been detained at work on the day of Imbolc, and then on her way out to the farm house the sun had set, and in the dark she had got lost. Finally giving up, she had driven home. Since the holiday, she had worked solidly as the restaurant had been short-staffed.
“I really hope the ritual was okay without me there. I’m so sorry I missed it,” Alyssa lied, but if the truth were told, after Lilifolia’s kiss and the shared vision, Alyssa was terrified at what Rachel was capable of doing—although she had no idea why she wanted to harm these beautiful creatures.
