“Oh, okay. Where does he live?” She asked. Matthew fidgeted.
“Saint Francis, Maine.”
“Wait, you are just going to show up to some guy’s house in Maine?!”
“Yeah. He’s expecting one of us at some point.”
“Where is Saint Francis? Is it by Portland?”
“No, it’s basically as far north in Maine as you can get. It’s going to take me over twelve hours to drive there.” He said quietly.
“So, you came over to tell me you are leaving.” Mirabelle pulled her knees in against her chest. resting her cast over her kneecaps.
“Pretty much.” Matthew wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I need to do this. These are the directions my dad left for me.”
“Aren’t there any warlocks that live closer? Anona mentioned that Dottie knows a bunch from when she was younger; maybe she could recommend a mentor that lived in the tristate area. Or, you know, in a major city and not in complete wilderness.”
“But this is what my dad told me to do. He knew what was best for me. He knew a bunch of warlocks and he hand-picked Nick. I need to honor his wishes. If he can’t guide me through this, Nick is the next best.”
“Ok.” Mirabelle agreed. She couldn’t truly argue with Matthew’s father’s wishes. He had been the warlock, and his father. She would defer to him for judgement.
“When are you going to go?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Oh. Already? Are you taking the car?”
“I’m going to rent one. Once I meet up with Nick, I can return it up there; rent one for the way back.”
“It sounds like you really figured everything out.”
“My mom and I talked for a really long time.”
“Where does Michael think you are going? Did you tell him?” Matthew shook his head.
“I will, but not yet. I have to figure out some stuff first. I don’t want to freak him out. He might not even have any dormant powers. When I get back, and I know more, I’ll sit him down and we’ll figure out if he’s a warlock of not. Maybe I’ll learn how to spot one.”
“When are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.” Matthew stood up and walked to the kitchen, away from her. “So, I could be gone ten days or I could be gone for a year.”
“A year?!”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to really do this. I’m going to learn everything this guy can teach me, which I doubt will be over in a week. You live with Anona and you’ve barely scratched the surface of your powers. I don’t know anything about mine except that I can travel realms. I need this.” He tried to convince her.
“Okay, so you want to do long-distance? You want me to come visit you? Are you going to come home every once in a while? How is this going to work?” She asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll call you when I get there. But I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to leave. Or if he would let you come stay.” Mirabelle could feel the blood draining out of her face and a pit settling in her stomach. “I think we should just call it for a little while.”
“Call it?”
“I mean, I really like you, a lot. Obviously. But I don’t want you to sit around and wait for me while I figure this out. Also, if I am gone more than a few months, you might not even be here when I get back. You might go to college or go back to Illinois.”
“You want to break up.” Mirabelle set her jaw. She wouldn’t cry right now, as this invisible wall fell down on her.
“I don’t want to, but I think we should. If I’m back soon, I would want nothing more than to date you, but I can’t ask you to wait. If it makes you feel better, it’s not like I am going to meet anyone.”
“I didn’t think I would meet a twenty-year-old in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, but I did.” Mirabelle dug her hand into the back of her hair, pulling it a little to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes.
“Mirie,” he whispered, holding out his hand to her. She stood up, against all her intentions, and walked over. He pulled her against his body and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I swear, this hurts so much. I am going to miss you so much.”
“I’m going to miss you, too.” She forced out in a broken voice. His hand went up to her face, drawing up her chin to look him in the eye. He kissed her softly, so gently she could feel her heart tearing itself apart. In a moment, she changed it to a wild, angry kiss, so mad at him, but still so in love. He grabbed her hips and pulled her up into his arms, walking them to the couch. She grabbed his hair, bit his neck, and scratched at his skin. She was irate, but she also knew this might be the last time she ever saw him. Her cast was bumping into everything, but she didn’t care.
They laid entwined on the couch, both exhausted and drained. Mirabelle took a deep breath. She kissed him and stood up, gathering her clothes in her arms.
“I’m going to go in my room and get dressed. I think you should be gone by the time I come out.”
“Mirie…”
“Goodbye Matthew. I’ll really miss you. Call if you can.” She turned on her heels and shut the door behind her.
Chapter 15
Mirabelle got out of bed, peeled off her pajamas, and pulled on her jeans and a sweatshirt. She smoothed her hair into a ponytail and walked straight to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, splashed some water on her face, and gave her cheeks a good smack. She skipped breakfast for the first time since arriving at Anona’s eight months ago, but got a glass of water that she downed quickly. She then pulled on her boots, her coat, her hat, her protection scarf, and work gloves. She was getting much better at navigating the cast. She walked outside.
It was dark still. Mirabelle was pretty sure it was before six am. The sun wouldn't be up for over an hour, and as far as she knew, Anona was still asleep in her bed. She trudged down the path, watching the ground in front of her to bypass any icy patches. It was a cold morning, below freezing, and thick puffs of her breath swirled around her head. She opened the door to the barn; the animals were still sleeping. Brownie lifted his head, and seeing Mirabelle, went right back to sleep. The dogs relaxed demeanor put her mind at ease. She decided to let them be; they deserved a sleep-in day every once in a while. She left the barn and turned towards the woods. She hadn’t been through them since the day she came back from the High Court.
Mirabelle had expected to be afraid walking back in the dense trees, but she felt an overwhelming sense of calm, instead. A few icicles hung from branches, threatening to break off at any moment. She took her gloves off and let her hands run over the bark of passing trees. It was that specific kind of quiet this morning, the kind you only get on cold days. Even with warm coats, the squirrels and bunnies remained in their burrows, snuggled close together. The birds were not stirring yet. While the winter did chase away most of the bird population, blue jays, cardinals, chickadees, and some woodpeckers were year-round residents of these woods. There was something really lovely about being out in the cold at this time. It reminded Mirabelle of when she had stayed up all night at a sleepover, and then just wanted to go home at five in the morning. She called her mom and told her she was walking home (she was only five houses away), and her mom waited in the front yard for her. Being alone in her neighborhood that early morning, Mirabelle had felt a deep sort of peace, and she was wandering back to the feeling right now.
She found a circle of three oak trees, the woods’ own miniature grove. Mirabelle had read that any witch in a grove was protected from adversaries both human and supernatural. She sat in the center, tucking her coat underneath her seat. She brushed off the half inch of snow still sitting on the ground, revealing frozen mud beneath it. Picking up a stray stick, Mirabelle got to work carving a triskele into the hard mud.
“Protect us.” She whispered. “No more accidental portal traveling. No more accidental portals opening. Give me time to study.” She carved a circle around the symbol, then kissed it quickly. A small zing hit her lips, soliciting a small jump.
“Okay, calm down. We’re
just friends.”
“I found two people interested in earning a little money training an eighteen year old in medieval weaponry.” Anona was laying out lunch for them. After her early morning spell, Mirabelle had holed up in her room and gotten busy studying. She was almost done with her simple spells book, and was looking forward to practicing a couple of the spells she had read.
“Do tell.”
“One is a man named Thor,”
“Of course it is,” Mirabelle laughed.
“He’s described as ‘an expert swordsman’ who dabbles in archery. There is also a guy named Scott who performs in both knife throwing and ax throwing. They both offered to come here, so traveling isn’t an issue. I told them as long as they brought any equipment needed and stayed away from the animals, garden, and orchards, they were welcome to teach you here.”
“I’m going to go with Scott.” Mirabelle decided.
“Care to enlighten me as to why?”
“Honestly, convenience. When I was being rushed by the Ogres, I didn’t want to take the time to get an arrow notched, nor would a mastery of swordplay have done me a lick of good. I would rather become really adept at throwing objects. Even better that knives are found in most households that prepare food. I want my weaponry available at all times.”
“All right. I’ll call Scott and set up a meeting for the two of you next week.” Anona sat next to Mirabelle. Two turkey sandwiches, piled high with onion, sprouts from the windowsill, provolone, and mustard on homemade sourdough bread. On the side, they had homemade paprika chips and pickles. Mirabelle was putting on weight, now that she wasn’t out and about in the fields all day. But she didn’t really mind. Living with Anona had given her higher self-esteem than she had ever had. Who cared if she needed to buy new jeans; she could do magic and stuff.
“While I feel like I am in college with all the studying I have been doing the last few days, I think this meal is astronomically better than anything I would get at a dining hall.”
“I should hope so. I make it my business to make every meal as enjoyable as possible. There’s an almond tart in the oven for after dinner.”
“You’re the best.”
Mirabelle sat on the front porch waiting for Scott. She hoped her outfit was appropriate for knife and ax-wielding. She settled on jeans and a fitted fleece with a hat. She had on regular boots, hoping there would be no running happening. She guessed that Scott would at least give her some background before working on moving while throwing. She skipped her protection scarf today, hoping that if Blondie somehow wandered back to the farm, he would see her weaponry and go straight back to the Fae Realm. A beat-up Honda Civic with a smashed right headlight and duct-taped bumper pulled up to the house. Well, that was a good omen.
A thirty-ish year old man jumped out of the car, an empty coke can falling onto the ground. He stood up quickly, brushing crumbs off his lap. Then he took a quick look around at the property before finding her on the porch.
“Oh, hey. You Mirie?”
“Yes.” She answered, taken aback. “Scott?”
“Yup. So, you want to learn how to throw knives and shit?”
“Yeah… and shit.” She repeated.
“Any reason?” Mirabelle couldn’t really answer truthfully.
“I think it’d be cool.”
“All right, let’s get started.”
Scott was really tall, maybe six foot five, had dark hair and a full, lush beard, and was probably high. And if he wasn’t high, he was really laid back for a weapons instructor. He set up a few targets that looks like a cross between something from a gun range and something from an archery field.
“So, hold it like this.” He pinched the knife from the unsharpened end. These were throwing knives, of course, and not run-of-the-mill steak knives. The hilts were much thinner than on regular knives and the overall knife was more evenly balanced. “Just throw it like you would think you’d throw a knife.”
“Are… you being serious?”
“Yeah. Just go with your gut. Then I’ll tell you what to change.” Mirabelle looked back at the target. It was about ten feet away. He said they would eventually move it back, but this was a good place to start. Mirabelle drew back her arm like she was going to throw a baseball, and released.
The knife hit the target with its side and fell to the ground.
“Okay, this time, throw by pinching the point.” He handed her the next knife. “Don’t change anything else.” She did, and this time, she actually hit the target! And it stuck! She hit the outermost edge, but hey, she hit it!
“Nice. You have a knack for this.”
“So, how did you get into knife-throwing, Scott?”
“Uh, the Renaissance Faire. Grew up in it. My dad ran the knife and ax throwing booths, my mom is one of the actresses. When I was little she was one of the fairies that wander around and make little kids laugh. Now, she’s the Queen. Pretty big deal in the Ren Faire circuit.”
“Cool. Do you work there?”
“Not right now. I wasn’t up for the transient lifestyle anymore. So, when I turned eighteen, I rented an apartment here. I still work the faire when it’s in Pennsylvania. But I don’t travel. I’m an electrician also.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Nope.” He handed her another knife. “Now try to hit more centrally. If you were ever, say attacked and had your knives on you, not that I think that will happen, it would be better to hit an assailant in, say, the chest rather than the ear.”
They stuck with knives for the first lesson. Scott said axes were much harder, mainly because of their weight distribution. Mirabelle was pretty good a knife throwing, at first. After nailing six throws in a row, Scott moved the target back ten more feet, and she completely missed it over and over. So badly on one occasion that it took them fifteen minutes to find the knife. Scott was cool, though. Mirabelle thought they would have fun hanging out together once a week. He didn’t ask her too many questions about her sudden interest in throwing weapons, nor did he offer too much information about himself. He mainly stuck to correcting her form, and occasionally saying something like, “Man, I can’t wait for warmer weather.”
She was going to have to buy her own set of knives and maybe an ax at some point, if she planned on traveling again. Which, in all honesty, she did. Eventually. But maybe not for six months or so. At least until she mastered weaponry and at least thirty helpful spells.
She started to wonder if Matthew should also take lessons from Scott, but then remembered she was currently trying her best not to think about Matthew. He was gone, for now. Maybe he would come back, maybe he wouldn’t. He had been gone for three days with no phone call. Lucy had called Anona to tell her that he arrived safely in Maine, but Mirabelle still had no word. She wasn’t quite sure how she was supposed to feel about it, so instead she decided to try her hardest not to feel anything about it.
Chapter 16
Mirabelle sat on the couch practicing a new spell while Anona boiled four stock pots of maple sap. She was currently in the process of boiling the sap down to a more concentrated liquid. Once she finished, she would filter and bottle the syrup. Anona kept most for herself, but also gave a couple bottles away as gifts, and occasionally sold some to favorite customers.
“Banish those who wish to harm me.” Mirabelle whispered over some dried chamomile leaves. Nothing happened. In the spell’s defense, Mirabelle was sitting in the house with only her sister. There really wasn’t anyone here who might wish harm upon her.
“Banish those who wish to harm me,” she tried one more time, this time with an even tone, and a little more confidence. The flowers shifted a moment. She looked more closely, wondering if she had imagined it. Then, the flowers shriveled up into ash, and then smoke. The smoke drifted around Mirabelle’s head, circling her like a wreath, then disappeared.
“Holy shit. Anona, Anona! It worked!”
“Nice work,” She answered, smiling. “Look at you, banishing enemies and a
ll. Too bad there aren’t any currently present.”
“You’re going to be so glad I know that spell the next time a rogue Fae aristocrat tries to kidnap me.”
“You can also use it on potato bugs. They are my biggest enemies.”
Mirabelle had a meeting with Dottie. She was in dire need of some guidance after the last few weeks. Though she never voiced it, Mirabelle had been convinced that Matthew was the love of her life she was supposed to meet. Since he left for Maine, she wasn’t so sure. And now that she knew she was a Traveler, she thought the cards or runes might have a little more information for her. She needed a direction to steer towards. Any direction. Even one as vague as, “maybe South?”
Anona was staying home. She had a ton of maple syrup to bottle and said she wanted to get into the zone so it went faster. Her sister was very particular about this kind of work, and if she got into a repetitive cycle, she would be more consistent.
“It will be good for you to have some real one-on-one time with Dottie. And maybe take your time, walk around the city a bit, whatever you want. It might be fun!” She threw in at the end. Mirabelle had been a little mopey since Matthew left. She basically studied and walked around the farm in the freezing cold. She was well on her way to becoming Emily Dickinson. An outing was a good idea.
Mirabelle got dressed up. Well, she wore a nice pair of skinny leg jeans, an oversized black sweater, Anona’s silver moon necklace, and knee high black boots with a thick platform heel (she had previously referred to them as her FMB’s, but now that seemed inappropriate). She brushed her hair out and left it a little crazy and unkempt. There was no reason to try to straighten it on such a miserably windy and damp day. She even rooted through the bathroom and found a dark red lipstick and threw it on for good measure.
Mirabelle climbed into the pickup truck, adjusted the seat and mirrors, and started it up. She was thrilled at the mere prospect of driving somewhere alone. She could be going to the gas station for all she cared. She punched on the radio, found some Florence and the Machine, and pulled down the long winding driveway.
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