“You’re crazy.” Kelile rolled his eyes. “Do you really believe a giant snake could crawl here and start a fire?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember. It’s like a window shade that drops in front of my vision. I can’t see what happened.”
“How did anyone pull you out of that?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She gazed at the burned remains again. “I just stood here with my backpack, watching them put the fire out.”
Turning to Morrigan again, she wailed, “Oh, Morri! I didn’t even ask where Ma was. I just stood here!” She shuddered again. “The fireman who saved me asked me where my parents were. Only then did I realize Ma wasn’t there. He told me I was the only one they had found.” Her eyes glazed again.
“They didn’t find your mother’s body?” Kelile whispered.
She turned to him, crying, and shook her head.
“Come here,” he said, holding out his arms.
“Are you sure that’s all you remember? You had your backpack? Did it have the stuff we tried getting from the shed in there? You never told me what else was in that box. Was the Suti Stone in there? Maybe that’s why your things were cursed.”
She didn’t answer.
“Aish, is the Suti Stone back at Herald Home? I know it’s not in your amulet.” Morrigan tugged her away from Kelile. “Do you—”
“Why are you doggin’ her about that now? Can’t you see she’s upset?” He guided Aishling free from Morrigan’s grip.
But Aishling slid out of Kelile’s hands and stumbled to the front porch steps. Sitting on the blackened brick steps, facing away from the house, she could almost make herself believe nothing had happened. Yet, as she peered out over the overgrown yard, the rundown detached garage, and the hawthorn tree that had grown tall enough to shade a corner of the weed-infested garden, the finality of what had happened hit. She lowered her head and sobbed.
33
She didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Kelile sat next to her on the steps. “We probably need to set up camp.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently squeezed.
By this time, she had no more tears. She wiped her worn, red eyes and nodded.
With the help of him and Morrigan, she managed to bust open the side door to the old garage.
“We could stay in here tonight,” she said, standing in the doorway.
“No. There’s not enough room in here,” Kelile answered, bumping her shoulder as he wedged himself through the doorway into the garage.
Inside, a 1973 Volkswagen Super Beetle took up a large portion of the small, one-car garage. Stacked boxes almost hid the faded green car from view. Undefined bundles hung from the ceiling rafters. At this time of day, three small windows provided minimal light.
“What’s in all those boxes?” Morrigan asked as she jammed in.
“I don’t know. They weren’t there before.” Aishling rummaged through the closest stack. The first couple of boxes held pots and pans from their kitchen, most stained from smoke. She moved to another pile. “This has a lot of the charms and bottles of remedies Ma makes.”
“Uh … girl? What’s all this stuff hangin’ from the ceiling?”
“Herbs from our Garden of Life and Death. Ma dries them out that way.”
“And … what is a Garden of Life and Death?” He arched his eyebrows.
“Who do you suppose boxed everything up after the fire?” Morrigan asked.
“I don’t know.” Aishling frowned, wondering if it could have been her mother. Why is she hiding from me?
Morrigan came up beside her and pulled the top off another box. “Maybe the Suti Stone is in one of these boxes.”
“I told you!” Aishling grabbed the box lid and glared at Morrigan. “I don’t know where that stone is, and I really doubt it’s here.”
“Okay!” Morrigan threw up her hands. “I won’t touch anything. I just think the sooner we find it, the sooner we can get back to the way we were.” She stomped out of the garage.
Aishling looked at Kelile, and he shrugged. “The queen may have a point, girl.”
So, he agreed with Morrigan. All they care about is that silly stone! She ignored him.
As evening approached, they set up the tent as a covering, using the garage as a sidewall. “Thanks, Lance, for lettin’ us have your tent,” Kelile said while securing the last knot.
“I wonder how he’s doing.” Morrigan sat on the stretched out sleeping bag Lance had also given them.
“I hope Redhawk agrees to take him in. That would make him so happy.” Aishling sat beside Morrigan.
“I don’t think the problem is with Redhawk. He didn’t either.” Kelile leaned his head and back against the garage wall, stretching his legs along the ground. “He said he thought the state, or Herald Home, or both, were prejudiced against Indians, that they were keepin’ him away from Redhawk. He thought if he could just make contact with him, they’d have no choice because it would look bad if it appeared they were being prejudiced.”
He folded his hands behind his head. “Now my favorite witches, where do we go from here?”
“We need to find the Suti Stone,” Morrigan answered.
“I still have to find my mother. I don’t care about that stone. Why don’t you and Kelile go find it and leave me here,” Aishling said. “I’m tired of hearing about that stone, anyway. I’m so tired of running away, and hiking, and hiding, and being hungry and thirsty, and no one believing me when I say my mother is still alive. I’m tired of it all!”
Morrigan hopped up and glowered at her. “You know, you’re not the only one tired. And I’m hungry and thirsty, too. I’ve got blisters on my feet. I haven’t had a bath in days. And I had to say goodbye to Lance, all because I’m trying to help you!” She stormed away again.
Aishling sat still, pouting. She glanced at Kelile.
“Don’t look at me, girl. All my plans were messed up too. I’m on the run and lookin’ for some stupid stone. And, I’ve got a crazy female doggin’ me in my head. I’m not feelin’ sorry for you. We’re all tired and uncomfortable.” He patted her on her knee, leaned back against the garage wall again, and closed his eyes.
Aishling huffed. Her head throbbed, and she fought back nausea. Not knowing what else to do, she laid down and tried to calm herself. Before long, she fell asleep, a deep, deep sleep.
Sunday, May 5
In the early hours of morning, dreams yanked Aishling from her coma-like slumber and plunged her into an agitated sleep. At first, the dreams were repeats—being chased by the Uktena, the flying horse, tornado, black fog, a woman’s voice demanding the Suti Stone. Then, the nightmarish dreams ceased.
A light appeared, a luminescent, silver-white glow. Slowly, the light glided into her dream-state vision. Even though she was asleep, her senses became acutely aware of the light. As it came into focus, its brightness flooded her with a sense of complete and overwhelming joy and warmth. Aishling saw her. She savored her presence, her smile. Ma stood before her, much clearer than the dream she had had a couple of nights before. She inhaled her mother’s essence. She reached out and grappled for her mother’s touch.
In this lucid dream, her mother hugged her, and coddled her, running her fingers through Aishling’s hair like she always did when Aishling was upset. “Listen, honey. Your sadness, your hopelessness closes you down. I can’t reach you when your heart is closed.”
“Ma, I miss you so much. Please tell me,” Aishling cried. “Where are you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said to you that night.” But the image began fading as her cries increased.
“Your sadness … you must find a way to overcome your sadness and remain open,” her mother’s voice was also fading.
“How do I stop being sad? How? Ma? Ma, please come back, please.”
“Go to the Garden of Life and Death. Look under the archway stone. You’ll find a wish box under the archway stone. Remember, honey.”
34
Aish
ling awoke exhausted, her face, hair and neck soaked with dream tears. The ache inside her heart gripped her so hard she clawed at her chest, heaving for air.
A vague memory invaded her thoughts and her panic. Ma! Hadn’t she been there? Yes, I saw her! Hadn’t Ma hugged her in the dream?
But the dream was fading. She couldn’t bring it together in her memory. Wait! Hadn’t her mother said something about the garden?
She sat up, rubbing her temples. Pausing for breathless moments, she searched her memory for the lost remnants of the dream. “You must overcome your sadness.” That’s right. What was the other thing Ma told me to remember? Something buried? Yes. But what and where? She lingered, forcing her mind to remember. Upon taking a slow, deep breath, she relaxed enough to allow the dream to come to her. Wish box … Look under … a stone… . Oh, at the archway! She quietly stood and snuck away from the others, walking to the edge of the overgrown garden. Still too dark. Too many weeds. She hesitated, dazed.
Unaware of how long she’d been there, she eventually became conscious of faint, early morning light. As she looked around, she noticed golden rays filtering through the trees. She would wait a few minutes longer until she could clearly see around the archway.
While waiting, she thought of the time when she and Ma had made the trellis arch over the garden entryway. They had placed the stone underneath, creating a formal entrance into their Garden of Life and Death. She smiled, picturing her mother saying, “What we do with herbs is sacred, and must always be respected. The herbs in this garden can heal life, but if used irresponsibly or in ignorance, they can also destroy life. That’s why we call it our Garden of Life and Death.”
The outline of the entryway became sharper as day squeezed out night. Part of the trellis arch was broken and hung in a tangled mess, blocking the entrance. When she spotted this, more memories surged back. She saw herself walking through the entryway, holding her mother’s hand. As they emerged on the other side, they were no longer standing in the Garden of Life and Death. Instead, they were standing in a place of magic.
There were trees and flowers and herbs, but these trees and flowers and herbs emitted colors and hues of iridescent light, as if formed out of rainbows. There had also been other lights—like fireworks—dancing and exploding all around her and Ma. And the smells! The candy-sweet smells burst in her nose. Smells so strong, she could taste butterscotch, chocolate chip cookies, and cherry pie!
She gasped with the next, the last image, memory—a tall, slender male who glimmered and sparkled. He smiled and reached for her. She ran into his arms. Da!
“Aish! What are you doing?” Morrigan.
“No!” Aishling cried. The memories disappeared. She reached out, trying to pull them back. They were gone. “No, Morri. Why did you have to interrupt.”
“I was worried about you. What were you doing? What did I interrupt?”
Aishling huffed. “Never mind.”
“Sorry I bothered you. What were you doing?”
“I was waiting until it got light enough to look for something.”
“What?”
“Oh … Morri, I think Ma came to me last night. She told me to find a wish box that was buried there.” She pointed at the arched garden entrance.
“Wish box. That’s it! That’s wonderful! Let’s get it!” Morrigan rushed forward and reached down, grabbing the piece of arbor blocking the entrance.
“No. Wait. Let go of that!” Aishling shoved her away.
“Sorry!” Morrigan crossed her arms, flashed a frown, and then stuck her tongue out at her.
“Get that back in your mouth.” Kelile walked up behind them. “What’s going on, my favorite witches?”
“Would you-uns go away!”
Kelile spread his hands in front of himself. “Okay, okay. Everyone calm down.” He grinned through his teeth before he said, “See me, girl? I’m backing off. See Morrigan? She is too.” He elbowed Morrigan’s arm. “Play along with me.”
Morrigan didn’t budge. “Why are you acting that way, Aish? I didn’t do anything to you. I was trying to help you.”
“Okay … okay. Give me a minute.” Aishling closed her eyes.
Moments later, when she opened her eyes again, she apologized.
After telling them about the dream and where the wish box was located, Aishling tugged on the twisted archway and moved it out of the way. She studied the buried stepping-stone briefly before working her fingers down one side and gripping it. She looked at Kelile and smiled. “Do you want to help me?”
“If you don’t bite my head off, girl.”
While Morrigan watched, Kelile and Aishling removed the stone. A metal box rested underneath. Aishling brushed the dirt away that had settled on top and around the handle then lifted the box out of the cavity.
Morrigan tapped her hands together. “I can’t wait to see what’s inside! I bet it’s the Suti Stone, or at least a clue where to find it.”
Aishling carried the metal box to their sleeping bag and sat. Morrigan bounced down beside her as Kelile sat across from them.
“Maybe your mother left you a bunch of money,” he said.
“No. It’s got to be the Suti Stone.” Morrigan insisted.
Surprised that the metal box wasn’t locked, Aishling lifted the clasp and raised the lid. When she did, she discovered three items in the box.
Morrigan leaned over and looked.
“Well? Are ya gonna tell me what’s in there, girl, or am I supposed to read your mind?”
Aishling looked at him while she reached inside.
The first thing she removed was a silver bell, about seven inches long. She held it up, examining it. The bell was etched with a long, vertical line that had five short, equally spaced, horizontal lines extending to the right from its midsection. Each horizontal line ended evenly with the others. Aishling had seen this symbol before. It was one of the Ogham Fews. But, what did it mean?
She gently shook the bell, and it emitted delicate sounds. Shaking it again, this time harder, she smiled because the music from the bell awakened her senses. Goose bumps popped along her arms and thighs as her inner spirit reached outward, opening briefly.
“A bell. A bell? Don’t tell me that’s a magical bell,” Kelile smirked. “So, your mother left you a bell.”
“Don’t you dare make fun of Ma. I never make fun of your mother.”
“What? You called my mom a witch yesterday.”
“I did not. I said she was trying to—But I wasn’t making fun of her. Remember”—pointing at herself—“witch here.”
“Okay. But, what do you do with a bell?”
“Oh, hush,” Morrigan said.
Aishling set the bell in her lap and reached for the next item. She held up a glossy black, triangular stone, about five inches wide at the base and a couple of inches wide at the top, and two inches thick. The stone had a concave, circular impression in the center, slightly larger than a silver dollar. Various muted colors—reds, blues, yellows, whites—were ingrained within the stone in a pattern of swirls. She rubbed her thumb in its concave impression, smiled, then sighed. She loved the feel of it in her hand, cooling. Yet a warm, protective energy rushed through her chest, filling her with a sense of relaxation and well-being.
“Is that the Suti Stone?” Kelile asked.
“No. It’s just peacock obsidian,” Morrigan said, sounding disappointed.
“It makes you feel good,” Aishling said, trying to hand it to her.
Morrigan leaned away. “No thank you.”
“Well, give it to me, girl. I need a little feel good.” He reached for it.
“No. Only she should hold it.” Morrigan stretched her hand out and blocked his. “Remember your other stuff was cursed, Aish.”
Aishling set the stone in her lap with the bell and stared again into the metal box. She smiled at the last item, a priceless treasure. She reached in and pulled out a leather-bound, oversized book, three inches thick.
“Is tha
t your mother’s grimoire?” Morrigan whispered, her eyes bulging out.
“What? What’s a grim … what?” Kelile asked.
“Hush,” Morrigan said.
After opening the cover binding, Aishling silently read the inscription inside:
To: Aishling Bran O’Brian, our cherished daughter
For your 11th Holly Eve, December 24, 1989
Dear Aishling,
We crafted this grimoire for you and had planned to give it to you during your Twelfth Night Naming Ceremony in January. But, the Holly King requested we give it to you today, the day on the Wheel of the Year when he makes his annual departure and leaves gifts for all his children.
These pages hold many magickal teachings. Many more will be revealed as your destiny unfolds and your spirit is ready. Keep this grimoire with you always throughout your life, as it will guide and protect you.
Forevermore, believe in the magick of this book, in the magick of the Sidhe, in the magick of our Celtic and Cherokee heritages, in the magick within you. But remember, you must first open your heart and soul in order to perceive the magick. If you do, a bright light will eternally follow you and protect you, even when total darkness surrounds you.
With our eternal love,
Ma and Da
“What’s it say?” Morrigan asked.
“What is a grim—What did you call it?” Kelile persisted.
“It’s sort of like a Book of Shadows,” Aishling answered. “I was supposed to get it on my eleventh Holly Eve. Ma and Da had made it for me and were going to give it to me.”
“Girl, what’s a Book of Shadows? … Holly Eve? … Naming Ceremony? Jeez, you’re talkin’ another language.”
“I can’t believe you don’t know these things,” Morrigan snapped at him.
“And just why would I?”
“Oh, never mind,” she answered.
Aishling glanced at her, wondering why she would make such a statement. When she looked at Kelile, he had a frown burrowed into his face.
“Don’t you be tellin’ me my mom’s a witch, too! I’m havin’ nothin’ to do with that.” He stood up. “And, I don’t wanna know about any of your witchy words or witchy ways, you two. I just wanna find that stone and get the hell outta here.”
Dead Moon Awakens: A tale of Cherokee myth and Celtic magic (Mystic Gates) Page 15
