Rachelle set her pizza down and stared wide-eyed at Jancie. “Whoa. Jancie, you have witch blood.”
“My great grandfather was a witch,” Jancie said the words aloud hoping they would sink in. Instead, questions raced through her mind, and her fingers trembled as she picked at a pepperoni on the pizza. “How did they meet?”
“I don’t know for sure. Back then, townies and witches never mixed like today.” Starla pulled a slice to her plate. “You know, I’ll reckon he might have been the moonstone storyteller.” She reached across the table and took Jancie’s hand. “Let’s hope that Vika can teach you more about the moonstone you’re wearing. More than Maggie knew.”
***
Jancie watched through her front window as Rowe’s black Studebaker pulled into the driveway. The round headlights cut through light mist settling with the sunrise. The soft, yellow glow reminded her of lanterns on autumn Girl Scout camping trips to Turkey Run and Brown County State Parks. Ten years ago felt like another life. So much had happened since then. Decisions made and paths followed without choices or experience to know what she wanted for herself.
Rowe stepped out of the car and dashed to the passenger side to help Vika.
Jancie swallowed hard. Even if Rowe didn’t turn out to be ‘the one,’ she was grateful for knowing him. She admired his responsibility and ability to care for others, and his sense of purpose. She wanted people like him in her life, and wanted those qualities for herself. Finding her own purpose might take a little more work.
Jancie headed outside and called, “Hi!”
Vika looked her way and opened her arms wide. “It’s so good to see you.”
Her grin melted Jancie’s heart, and she hurried to accept the hug.
The old witch pulled her close. “I’m glad you took today off so we have time to sort through things.”
“I never mind having a long weekend.” Jancie forced a nervous laugh.
Vika’s Maine Coon cat rubbed among their legs, purring.
Busby hovered overhead, as if he wanted to join them.
Jancie pulled away and flashed the owl a smile, then asked Vika, “Can I help carry supplies inside?”
Vika pointed to the backseat, and Jancie moved around to where Rowe unloaded the car.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Jancie said to him, trying to sound pleasant and not desperate to get back with him. She picked up two totes.
He leaned close to get a large basket, and his woodsy cologne sent tingles along Jancie’s skin. “You look nice,” he said, then stood and peered at her for an awkward moment without saying anything. “Umm. I mean it looks like you’re not stressing over Adara’s attack. I’m glad. I was worried.”
Jancie grinned at his roundabout way of covering the compliment that slipped out. Rachelle’s advice to look sexy worked. Black leggings, a close-fitting ivory tunic, and a splash of jasmine perfume did the trick.
“Are we going inside, or just standing around gawking the whole time?” Vika laughed and tottered to the front door. “Some of us have work to be done.”
Heat flushed Jancie’s already burned cheeks. Beneath lowered lashes, she glanced at Rowe, then headed after the old witch.
“Coming, Vika,” he called ahead.
Vika scanned the house. “Ah, yes. I need to give a listen to this wall.” Over her shoulder, she said to Rowe, “If you’d told me Jancie’s last name was Sadler earlier, I would’ve done this the first time I was here. Might’ve saved Jancie a bit of that surprise she had at work yesterday.” She clucked her tongue and stepped onto the porch. Arms spread wide and fingers splayed, she clung to the blocks like a giant spider. “This limestone has secrets to tell, if I can hear them.” With her ear pressed against a wide, flat stone, she closed her eyes.
Siddie dusted her fluffy tail along the porch wall.
Jancie and Rowe stood behind in silence for at least a minute.
The old woman’s straw-like white hair stood straight out as if charged with static. Her flared black skirt and white apron billowed like sails.
The cat let out a wild yowl like a tomcat on the prowl, and her eyes glowed vivid green.
Jancie glanced at Rowe, but he only shrugged.
“Shoo!” Vika stepped back and dropped her arms to her sides. Her hair and skirt went limp as well. “This house can sure talk. Like it wants a friend.”
Jancie and Rowe gathered around her. “What did you learn?” he asked.
“Good ole Salem limestone from the local Bedford quarry in around the late 1930s. This house was built in post-war boom time. Fewer families than I expected have come and gone from this home.” She rubbed her temples and lifted onto her toes. “But so much detail, it’s hard to sort through. Jancie’s grandmother bought it from the original owners. The stones say she looked at only one house, this one, and decided to buy on the spot. It’s stayed in Jancie’s family ever since.”
Siddie whipped her tail against her mistress’s leg.
Vika bent low and talked in what sounded like gibberish with the cat, then said, “Good girl. Thank you for reminding me.” The witch stood and continued. “An odd fact is that this stone came from the very vein that was first used to make at least a hundred coven houses and shops. Some built entirely of it or just the front face and chimneys of log homes. When I was a girl, that vein caved in and was sealed off, too dangerous to quarry. Hasn’t been used since, ‘cause workers say it was hexed by us witches.”
“That is so cool you can hear all that from the walls of the house.” Jancie touched a hand to Vika’s shoulder and flinched from a slight shock.
“This stone’s a talker. It has a kick, if you can understand the language.” The old witch laughed. “Jancie, you seem to get a kick from the signal. I’ll have to see if I can teach you how to do this someday.”
“I remember Mom telling me that story about how Gran bought this house. I wonder if that ties in with the garden having faeries?” Jancie asked.
“Could very well be.” Vika stepped toward the door. “Let’s get on that now.”
Inside, they spread out books and supplies across the kitchen table, and Vika settled onto a chair. “Siddie, my dearest, take a seat here beside me. But no table walking. Jancie might not like that in her home.”
The cat eyed Jancie, unblinking.
“Can I get you all something to drink?” She hoped to tempt Rowe to stay, rather than just drop Vika off and leave. Jancie faced him where he leaned against a counter. “I have tea, hot or cold, pop, juice.”
The old lady’s eyes crinkled at the corners with her wide grin. “Hot tea with lemon would be ever so nice, Jancie. Thank you.”
Jancie set water on to boil and assembled a bowl of various teabags on the table.
“I think it’s best if I leave.” Rowe pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. The soft wool of his slacks draped over the hard muscles of his thighs. “Vika is the expert.”
Jancie nodded. He looked so good, she wanted to push further but didn’t want to seem overbearing. It was obvious the decision was difficult for him. That he still had feelings for her would have to be enough for now.
“Call me when you’ve finished, and I’ll pick her up.” He made his way to the door.
She trailed after him and stood on the porch until he drove away. Only then, could she get herself to go back inside and shut the door.
Vika patted the arm of the empty chair on her other side. “Come have a seat, dear. Rowe’s sweet on you. Don’t you worry. He told me about his decision to not date you. He’s been a bundle of nerves since.”
Jancie poured the hot water, transferred the mugs to the table, and slid onto the chair. “I guess I’m glad for that. Adara said my involvement with Rowe didn’t mean much to her, or at least that’s what she said. I doubt that a lot. But me being my father’s daughter was definitely a real issue for her. So now she has two big reasons to hate me.”
“Let’s get one thing straight.” Vika ripped open a bag of Earl Grey.
“Adara doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t even know you. It’s just how she is. She’s ‘fraid of people. Thinks no one will like her. What she’s after with you and everyone she meets is power. Plain and simple.”
Jancie blew across the top of her tea. “I don’t understand being like that.”
Vika patted Jancie’s hand. “That’s because you get friends by helping people. They like you because you care about them. Adara started out a better person, but she’s had problems.”
“That’s hard to believe.” Jancie’s brows rose.
“It’s true. As a teen, her heart was open, and she often did kind acts for other folk. Too bad her mother Grizela, the high priestess, didn’t recognize Adara’s efforts.” Vika took a loud slurp from her mug. “When Adara met your dad, she fell hard. Grizela didn’t approve of her dating a townie. That made the gap between mother and daughter widen into a chasm. In her will, Grizela promised the family grimoire to her oldest daughter Evelyn, then to the middle girl Fia, and lastly to Adara, the young one. But after the two older daughters died, Grizela went so far as to hide the grimoire from Adara.”
“So why does Adara think I caused Dad to break up with her? Wasn’t I born after they separated?” Jancie asked.
“I know some of that answer, and maybe you know the rest.”
Siddie gave a scolding meow.
“And your information will help us too, my dearest.” Vika rubbed her cat’s pointed ears. “About twenty-four years ago, when Adara was eighteen, she and Dwayne had a summer romance. One evening, they were out drinking and joy-riding in his hot rod. He swerved into an old model T driven by Adara’s brother Clement. Her sister Evelyn was in the passenger seat. Both were killed.”
“Oh my gosh.” Jancie clasped her hands together.
“Adara and Dwayne were cut up bad. Had a few broken bones. That’s how she got that wicked scar across her cheekbone.” Vika sighed. “Word was that she never saw Dwayne again. Perhaps he feared comeuppance from Grizela Tabard. Most would, since she was so cruel. Or maybe he was afraid of the law, being charged with manslaughter. The sheriff back then didn’t take kindly to townies who mingled with witches. Either way, right soon we heard he was getting married to your mother Faye, and that she turned out pregnant with you.”
“So by having to marry Mom, Dad couldn’t go back with Adara? That’s just life, the way the cards fall.” Jancie set down her mug. “Why is she still harboring a grudge? And at me?”
“I’m with you. There’s got to be another side to this coin. What do you know?” Vika squeezed a second lemon slice into her tea and filled her beaked nose with the steam.
Jancie stood. “I need to get something.” She dashed to her bedroom and returned with Maggie’s diary. “This is a diary written by my great grandmother on Mom’s side. My great aunt Starla gave me this to let me know about the moonstone locket, so I could say goodbye to Mom. In addition to that, there are some odd entries.” She locked onto Vika’s eyes. “Do you know of a Louis Forsbey, a coven member from the mid-thirties?”
The witch nodded. “Sure do. Quite a mysterious tale around him. He left the coven in the middle of winter with a townie woman. Seemed he had to leave to be with her. It was all kept hush-hush, but then I was only eight or nine then and wasn’t told much about love.”
Jancie rubbed a hand over the leather cover. “The woman he left with and married was my great grandma Maggie.”
Vika’s eyes popped out. “Sakes alive! Then you have witch blood in you from our coven.” Jancie stared back. What had seemed almost unreal while talking with Aunt Starla, now sunk in.
“Maggie got pregnant with my gran Betty while here in Bentbone. Maggie was really happy about that but also sad because she had to leave Bentbone. The reason didn’t make sense, why her children were in jeopardy.”
“Hmm.” Vika passed a finger around the rim of her mug. “Intermarriages were frowned upon for sure, but nobody would’ve harmed those children. I grew up knowing kids from mixed marriages. What does the diary say on that?”
Jancie opened near the end of the book and read, “The love of my life is now a true part of me. The news makes me happier than I ever believed possible, and also in the darkest despair. It seems unfair the past should be allowed to shape the future. Bloodlines dictate too much. Although I cannot risk telling anyone, Louis and I now share two bonds that no one can cast asunder no matter what be known.” She looked up. “The pregnancy is one bond, but what is the other?”
Vika shook her head.
Siddie jumped onto the table, pranced out of her mistress’s reach, and grazed Jancie.
“Dear one, please be a good girl.” Vika’s grasping hand met air. “We’re guests here. I know we don’t get out much, but manners are good to have.”
The cat’s long tail whipped across Jancie’s chest.
After a sneeze from fur in her nose, she took hold of the moonstone locket. “This! Was Louis the moonstone teller?”
“I was too young then.” The witch leaned close and reached toward the diary. “May I see that entry?”
Jancie passed the book.
“Come closer. Watch over my shoulder.” Vika plucked a silver leaf of wormwood from the vase on the table and crushed it between thumb and forefinger, then touched the entry.
Jancie held her breath as she leaned in. Green words and sentences appeared between lines and in margins: Bittersweet. My pregnancy is our joy, but our moonstone bond is our curse. Sweet sorrow.
“Are those Maggie’s thoughts?” Jancie wished she could do that magic. She’d be up all night rereading every page.
“Yes. What she was afraid to write.” Vika glanced over her shoulder. “That answers your question. He was the moonstone storyteller. You are walking in your great grandmother’s footsteps.”
Jancie shivered. “I’m not sure that turned out so well. Aunt Starla said once the family moved, he went mad with some illness. Maggie nursed him, then died just after he passed.”
“That still doesn’t answer why Adara is out for your skin.” Vika passed the diary back. “Anything else in here that struck you odd?”
Jancie turned to the last few pages and read Maggie’s entry, “Wonderful news! I am bursting to tell someone, although I mustn’t for fear of defiant interception. Through a cousin who strictly holds my confidence, I have just learned I have distant relations in New Wish on the Kentucky border around Evansville way. They are willing and happy to take in my little family. The three of us, and our blessing, will leave soon.”
“There’s the answer.” Vika clapped her hands together, while Jancie stared at her, bewildered.
“New Wish is another coven, much smaller than ours, kept very secret, and using very different magic. Maggie must have had New Wish witch blood. And so do you. That is why Adara’s magic wouldn’t work as she intended. And why the moonstone won’t come off because you have more to do to serve the gemstone. There’s more to the moonstone bond we need to find out about. I felt New Wish magic in your mother’s ring when I first held it but wasn’t totally sure. Faye Sadler was a strong witch. And so are you. Adara had no chance against the two of you to get back with Dwayne.”
“I’m a witch?” Jancie murmured, the words shaking off her tongue.
Chapter Nineteen: The North Wind
Sitting at her kitchen table, Jancie twisted her mother’s ring around her finger. New concerns worried her. Did all of this about witch blood in her family have to do with why Dad didn’t want her around witches? But Mom had been a witch. Did he know that and love her anyway? Maybe her being a witch brought about their divorce. Jancie faced Vika and asked, ““If I’m a witch, am I able to stop Adara? How do I use my powers?”
“Excellent question.” The old lady stroked a hand along her Maine Coon’s arched back. “Any ideas, Siddie dearest?”
“Open her heritage to her,” the familiar purred while she rubbed against her mistress’s hand.
“Yes, of course.” Vika faced Jancie. “That mig
ht help you utilize subconscious knowledge about New Wish magic, which would work well against Adara.” She leaned closer. “I’d like a look at that moonstone. I’m curious whether New Wish witchcraft is in it. Since you can’t take it off, it’s guided by some spell other than the original enchantment.”
Jancie lifted the locket toward the old witch.
Vika pushed her wire-framed eyeglasses up her hooked nose. “Moonstone is a receiver. It’s love-drawing in nature.”
“Is that why it works to lessen grief?”
“Right you are.” She twisted her wrinkled lips to one side. “Hmm. But there’s another purpose related to love going on here. All I can tell is that it’s to do with romantic love and not over a loved one. It’s got New Wish hallmarks.”
“What tells you that?” Jancie asked.
“There’s a mysterious softness about their craft. Kind of disguised. Maybe not to a New Wish witch, but it is to me.” Vika waved her bent fingers in the air. “The milky haze of the moonstone swirls across its face. The luster on your mother’s silver ring does the same thing. And their magic just plain feels different. I don’t know how to describe. Like the vibrations ebb and flow with that twisty pattern.”
Jancie held the ring before her face. “I can’t see that. What I feel is strong and reassuring. When I touch it, it reminds me of my mother.”
“As it well should, dear.” Vika replaced the locket gently at Jancie’s chest and patted her shoulder. “To figure out exactly what this locket intends for you and how Rowe might be involved, we’re going to need a New Wish witch.”
Jancie’s eyes widened. “How? Can I just go to New Wish and ask for help?
The old witch nodded. “Wearing this locket, someone will want to talk to you. But before that, just to be able to step into the coven…” She tapped her index finger against her chin.
Jancie sat straighter. “My aunt Starla has been to the town many times. She’s not a witch, but she knows folks there.”
Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3 Page 21
