by F. E. Arliss
She was supposed to go to college, her mother insisted. Emery thought it sounded boring. School was boring. The only classes she liked were art and farm mechanics. She was the only girl in that class and it was pretty fun. English was easy. She loved to read and could write easily. This point finally brightened the old ladies faces, though they had also nodded approval over the art.
Over the next few months it became clear that Emery did want to continue her training with the witches. She liked it. What she didn’t like were the nasty people that sometimes came with it. Dorothea tartly told her nasty people were everywhere and there was no escaping them. They were a fact of life. Get over it.
Emery went home and sulked for a few days over that pronouncement. She then got into a dreadful fight at school with one of her classmates and when one of her close friends also leapt into the foray and sided with the other classmate, Emery had to admit that Dorothea was right. Crap people were everywhere and some of them right under your own nose.
Emery’s sisters had gone off to college in a nearby town. One, the fall before and her other sister had started last winter, having taken college prep classes and graduated early. Emery was supposed to go to college this coming fall, six months from now, and the counselors and her mother had been pressuring her more and more to submit her entrance essays and applications.
Finally, with the help of Dorothea and Bertha, it was decided and delivered as a fait accompli to Emery’s stunned mother. A full-ride scholarship from the Carnegie International Trust for Emery’s attendance to the University of St. Andrews in Fife, Scotland, was delivered by a yellow-uniformed DHL driver. The scholarship package came complete with Emery’s assignment of a private ensuite room in the dormitory of Agnes Blackadder Hall and her first year, bright red academic robe.
The scholarship listed her areas of study as English, Literature and Poetry, followed by a minor emphasis in Art History. A thick package of information about the college was included and Emery and the King cousins poured over it for hours.
Emery’s mother, on the other hand, had appeared instantly relieved, then had sniffed, “English, Literature and Poetry with Art History! How the heck are you going to make any money doing that? I suppose a free education is a free education. We can’t make light of a full-ride scholarship. I’ve never heard of this University of St. Andrews, sounds churchy. And, really, Agnes Blackadder Hall, I’m sure those wacky King cousins probably think that’s just the cat’s meow. All witchy and wonderful.”
When Emery had explained that this was the same university that Prince William and Princess Kate had attended, her mother had been mollified. Later Emery heard her tell anyone who would listen that her girl was going to the same college as the royal family!
Emery was scared. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go off to Scotland alone. Dorothea and Bertha agreed, but assured her she wouldn’t be alone and that they needed a bit more time to get things set up, but they’d let her know as soon as all the plans were finalized.
In the meantime, she needed to decide where she was going to spend the summer. Her high school graduation ceremony was set for May 23rd and the two old ladies had asked Emery to come over so they could lay out a proposed location of study for her last summer in the States.
Letty had come barreling into the mansion drive, skidding the ancient brown Chevy to a halt, and then bursting breathlessly into the conservatory shouting, “Well? Have you told her yet?”
Emery had grinned and said, “I think they’re about to. I take it you approve?”
“Oh, yes! But I’ll let them tell you,” she’d said, settling herself into one of the broken bottomed wicker chairs and looking expectantly at the King cousins. “Well, get on with it!” she said, sipping her tea, bright eyes beaming at the three of them.
Chapter Twenty-One
Preparation and Graduation
Dorothea had explained to Emery that traditional Wiccan training was comprised of many different areas of study. Since Emery had shown little interest in some of the traditional talents, such as the tarot cards or other types of readings with runes or tea leaves, they had decided to focus on what she was best at, the gathering of power through the elements. She was a scryer, but that talent would get stronger as she concentrated on further elemental studies.
Emery’s training in Canyon de Chelly, Calakmul and Oberwolfgau had shown that she was already quite accomplished in what the crones called “earth magic”. The next step was to allow her to train somewhere in the element of “air”. According to Bertha, the best place for that in North America was in the badlands. It turned out the badlands were in western South Dakota.
More specifically, Emery was going someplace called Red Shirt. Once again the cousins explained that the accommodations would be primitive. She would be staying with a friend of theirs, Trisha, who would host her in a log cabin far off any paved road. Water came from a trough that pumped water up from underground powered by an old windmill.
They would drive as far as they could, then pack in on mules or horses. She’d need to take a sleeping bag, first aid kit, a water cleaning apparatus, and all the things that she’d packed for Calakmul. It was wilderness. Better to be prepared.
Emery, sounding a little glum, said, “Why do Wiccans always have to be dirt poor and live in the most difficult of places?”
Dorothea had snapped, “We’re not dirt poor, girl. We just appear that way. Humanity is nothing if not jealous. Show you have something, and they’ll covet it. We live modestly and in isolated areas so we don’t draw attention and get ourselves burned at the stake! Stop sniveling!”
Letty, ever anxious to reassure Emery, added with enthusiasm, “After Red Shirt, you’ll be able to float on air and harness the wind.” Emery smiled at her, but doubted that the training would be quite so powerful as to allow her to float on air. Maybe she’d get a magic carpet, though that seemed doubtful and the wrong continent.
Once more the four of them perused the L.L. Bean catalog and after careful consideration, an order for a sleeping bag, high quality liner and a few more pairs of breathable undergarments was posted. A trip to the next town allowed them to order a special pair of hot weather hiking boots called, ominously Emery thought, Danner’s Mojave boot. She certainly hoped it wasn’t as hot as the desert she’d studied in school of the same name.
Almost all of the same other gear was going in. This time instead of the down vest, she was taking a fleece vest ordered from the catalog. It was supposed to regulate body temperature better, so that was good. It sounded like it would go from cold at night to hot as heck in the day. So the layers were good. The camo windbreaker was going as well.
As the day to depart was approaching, as was her graduation ceremony, no one had mentioned Letty’s cryptic remark that they couldn’t let her go alone anymore. Emery thought if she’d survived so far, she could probably continue to survive the badlands as well. She’d looked it up online, there were bats and toads there. Plus, antelope, deer and buffalo. There were prairie dogs and mountain sheep, ferrets and coyotes. Surely she could find some allies among those friends.
On the day of her graduation from high school, Emery’s mother hugged her, gave her a card and a brightly wrapped present. “I’m so proud of you, going off to college in England! On full scholarship too!” she beamed at Emery.
“Mom! It’s Scotland, not England,” Emery reminded her mother for the hundredth time.
“Oh, poohy,” her mother said dismissively. “It’s all the same thing.”
Emery just sighed and opened the gift. In the small, black-velvet lined box, a deeply golden-hued signet ring glowed out from within. Its face was a small shield-shaped impression with the coat of arms of the University of St. Andrews carved into it. It was gorgeous!
“Oh wow! Thank you, Mom! This is wonderful,” Emery enthused, truly delighted with the gift. “I love it!”
“You’re welcome, dear,” her mother said indulgently, then hugged Emery again and said, “I’ll
see you this afternoon at your ceremony. I’m so glad school is out! I’m going to go lay in the bath for a while. Ah, a whole summer ahead of me and all you girls are going to be working or whatever it is you do on these weird trips the King biddies send you on. I’m going to have the most restful summer ever!” Her mother floated from the room humming an old show tune.
Emery shut the small black velvet box and smiled after her air-headed mother’s back. How the woman managed to teach school, Emery had no idea. But, she’d had a decent childhood and been warm, fed, and mostly free to do what she wanted. It could have been a lot worse.
It wouldn’t be until the following year that she realized the beautiful little 22k gold ring had cost well over a thousand dollars and that it had undoubtedly been largely purchased by the crones. They’d let her mother give it to her without any reservations...they were kind old women and had compassion for her rather clueless mom. It only endeared them to Emery more.
After the rather hot, sweaty and generally boring graduation ceremony was over, Emery simply left the overcrowded gymnasium and met Dorothea, Bertha and Letty out in the car park. Emery’s mother had accepted an invitation for drinks with some other parents and had eagerly agreed that Emery would spend the evening with the crones. Piling into the rusted Chevy the four women sailed forth from the rutted gravel parking lot of the local high school and none of them looked back or ever returned. The future was much more exciting than reminiscences over the past.
Tonight, Emery was going to undergo a ceremonial spell that would assign her spirit animals and familiars to her. There was no telling what she might connect with. Letty had told her that while some wiccans had only one familiar, others had several.
Once the moon rose, they would begin the ceremony. Emery would chant the spell that summoned her familiars to her and though Dorothea had warned her that many would appear only in her scrying in smoke or water, one or two might appear in real life. It was very exciting.
Emery had looked at the very long lists of familiars that had come to other wiccan apprentices during their ceremonies and some had things as exciting as bears and wolves. She suspected her familiar or familiars, depending on what appeared, might be less spectacular. After all, she did have a penchant for small things like turtles, bats and frogs.
Bertha had gathered wood for the fire and the smoke was already rising from the end of the small blaze at the end of the outdoor altar when Emery arrived. She’d gone home to change her clothes first and had scrambled into her jeans, almost worn out hiking sandals and a teeshirt topped by a sweatshirt and dived out the door. No one was home to hear the door slam in her haste.
This would be the first time that Emery called upon the elements and powers on her own to cast the circle of magic. She’d brought a sprinkle of corn pollen to toss as a gift to the spirits of her familiars - that was something she’d added on her own, Dorothea didn’t think it necessary. Emery figured she’d blend her own brand of magic, the same way she’d chosen her own types of protection spells that had earned her the gift of the shield skin.
As she summoned the power of the four directions and the powers of feminine and masculine, she could feel the energy rise and lock around them. Then, beginning to chant the spell she’d developed for the summoning - the crones assured her it was always better to write your own spells than repeat someone else’s - she simply sank into a deep meditation and began to focus on the small billows of smoke from the fire as she chanted.
“Spirits of the natural realm,
Show yourselves and bind with me.
Come to me and support my will,
Familiars large or familiars small.
I seek the gifts I need the most,
And trust the goddess’s knowledge that she knows this host.
Come to me and join my life,
Protect and serve me to avoid harm and strife.
I accept with joy any who come,
Connect with me now and earn a heart home.”
Slowly, shapes took form in the mists of smoke. Emery strained to see what it could possibly be. Gradually, a large spider materialized from the fire and sat gazing at her with small black eyes. It appeared to have four eyes, two large ones in the center above a lovely bright-blue iridescent mouth area, and two smaller and slightly higher set ones towards the out corners of its small furry black face. It was adorable! Emery laid her hand on the ground in front of it and the inch-long spider jumped mightily, landing half-way up Emery’s palm.
She burst out laughing. “Wow, you’re an athlete!” she exclaimed, marveling at the distance the small creature had covered with a single leap.
In her mind, Emery heard, “I am Deira, a jumping spider. My gifts are the development of connections and patterns; the ability to master distance, and the capacity for stealth. If you accept me I will be one of your familiars.”
“What do you mean, one of my familiars?” Emery asked, amazement lacing her voice. “I would be delighted to have you as my familiar, though I’m curious why you would be only one of them.”
“You are already connected to several animals whose spirits will help you from afar should you ever call upon them,” Deira stated matter-of-factly. “I’m simply one of the physical ones that will always travel with you. The spirits of the turtle, bat, dart frog, wolpathuga and red deer are always with you. They bring you your shield skin gift, the gift of healing, wisdom and the ability to overcome any obstacle. They are your spirit familiars.”
Emery gently touched the fuzzy back of the spider, admiring her scrunched-up adorable face, large eyes and lovely blue mouth joints. It jumped rapidly up her arm, disappeared into her tee-shirt sleeve, then popped out and crawled agiley into the narrow crease between her ear and the side of her head. Emery could feel it nestle against her. She concentrated on the small insect for a moment and almost immediately began to see the shapes in the smoke more clearly.
Yes! There was the larger wolpathuga from the Black Forest. Next to it stood the majestic red buck she’d galloped through the woods with. The image of the blue poisonous dart frog bounced around the edges of the vision, bats whirled overhead and a turtle crawled slowly through the kaleidoscope of the vision. Finally, as the flames grew lower and the smoke began to drift away, another small shape emerged. This was not a vision, but a living creature. A small mouse ran to her, jumped nimbly onto her bare knee as it stuck out through the hole in her worn through jeans, and sat quietly, paws dangling and nose twitching.
The mouse, having sat down on its haunches, used one tiny paw to tap her impatiently on her bare knee. Then batted her again with both paws.
“I see you beauty,” Emery said, turning her gaze to the small mouse. Deira screeched a small hiss of discontent at this statement, and re-arranged herself with as much commotion as an inch-long spider could make, behind Emery’s ear.
“I’m Don Juan, purveyor of charm and illusion,” the tiny mouse bowed from the waist and flourished one miniscule paw, producing a small, glowing white pearl in his grasp. He offered it up to Emery and said, “For you my queen.”
Emery took the lovely, gently glowing pearl and said, “Thank you Don Juan. I am so grateful to have you and I do so love a good pearl. I’ve always admired the ones Dorothea wears, so I am touched and awed at this gift.”
The little mouse bobbed his head in glee and said, “Real pearl from waters of Fiji. You should put it in an earring.”
“I will do that! Thank you very much!” Emery said. “And, thank you for joining me as a familiar. I am ever so honored.” She heard the breathy clicking of Deira’s jaws in vexation. “Both of you will have to get along. We’ll be together now as a family and we must stick together as our lives and happiness depend upon each of us caring for the others and working together.”
“Yes, mistress,” they chorused together as though already reading each other’s minds. Emery would find out later that they were. The small mouse wriggled efficiently into the pocket of her sweatshirt and started busily
tearing up the old tissue he found there, intent on making a nest for himself.
Emery looked back into the smoke, closed her eyes and prayed a thought of deep gratitude to the circle of power she’d raised. She had familiars. A whole boatload of spiritual ones and two tiny physical ones. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She glanced up to look at the three old ladies and was speechless to see that each looked pleased and delighted. With a grin, her eyes rolled back in her head and she thumped backwards onto the ground. Emery had fainted dead away.
“We were just too much for the poor thing,” sung Deira, chortling and rubbing her tiny legs together in glee. “She’s going to need us.”
Don Juan rolled his eyes and continued shredding the tissue, ignoring the parts with dried snot knotted into them.
