Dead Moon Awakens: A tale of Cherokee myth and Celtic magic (Mystic Gates)

by Teresa Joyce Jackson

  “But what do you plan to do with it when you get it?” Morrigan asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure the bitch that’s doggin’ me will let me know.” He walked away.

  “So, it’s your mother’s grimoire,” Morrigan said.

  “No, it’s mine, from Ma and Da.”

  “From your mother and father? I thought you didn’t know your father?”

  “I’m beginning to remember, now. That’s what you interrupted this morning. I had a flashback of when Ma and I went to see him.”

  “I don’t understand. Where is your father? In another country?”

  “No.”

  “In jail?”

  “No!”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I think he lives in the Otherworld. Morri, I think Da is one of the Sidhe,” Aishling whispered.

  “What? No, that can’t be. That would make you half-faery. No, you don’t have the magical abilities. And why didn’t he ever come for you?” Morrigan shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Well … I don’t know for sure yet. I’m having a hard time remembering things.” Aishling placed the stone and bell back into the box and hugged her grimoire. “I’m going to read through this, and maybe I’ll find out more.”

  “That will take you forever. I have a better idea.”

  “What?”

  “I saw sacred datura in your Garden of Life and Death this morning. Let’s pick some of the leaves and crush them into a paste. All you need to eat is a crushed handful, and your memory will sharpen like a knife. Come on.” Morrigan stood, waiting.

  Nausea flooded through Aishling. “I don’t know. All of a sudden I feel sick.”

  “That’s an added benefit of sacred datura. Your memories will be restored, and you’ll feel great afterwards.”

  Aishling rose, but felt another rush of nausea, worse than the first. As she squatted back down, Morrigan grabbed her arms and pulled her up again and toward the garden. “Come on, you’ll feel much better. Trust me.”

  When they got to the garden, Morrigan walked around the arched gateway, through waist-high weeds. She broke off several leaves from a four-foot plant. It had yellow-green branches and trumpet-shaped, light blue flowers that looked like morning glories.

  She returned to Aishling and nudged her toward the rundown garage.

  Once inside, Morrigan began browsing the dusty, spider-web-filled shelves above a worktable.

  “What are you looking for?” Aishling asked and covered her mouth as another feeling of nausea overcame her.

  “Do you have a mortar and pestle to mash these leaves with?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Morri, I’m going to be sick. Let’s do this later.” She grabbed her stomach.

  “Here,” Morrigan said, pulling down a medium-sized, marble bowl with a marble pestle in it. “I’ll clean this out and make the paste.” She ran out of the garage.

  No … no. Aishling couldn’t stand up much longer. Once outside, she staggered to the sleeping bag and collapsed.

  “You okay?” Kelile rushed over. “Girl, you look green!”

  “Leave her alone, slave boy. I’m fixing something that will make her feel better,” Morrigan said walking back over to Aishling. She stood a few more seconds as she mashed the leaves inside the bowl.

  “What is that? Yuck! That stuff stinks. If she hasn’t thrown up by the time you give her that muck, she will.”

  “Oh hush, and get her some water to drink with this.” Morrigan sat next to her. “Okay, sit up so you can take this.” She helped Aishling lean against the garage wall.

  “I can’t take that. I can’t. Not right now.”

  “Come on. Trust me. This will make you feel much better.” Leaning in closer, she whispered, “Plus, it’ll help you remember. Isn’t that the most important thing?”

  “I guess.” Weak as butter, Aishling strained to lift her left hand and dig her fingers into the crushed leaves. She collected some of the paste and raised her fingers to her lips.

  “Lance! Hey man, what are you doin’ here?” Kelile shouted.

  Return to Beginning

  Then knowing remembers;

  35

  Lance. Aishling scraped the paste from her hand back into the bowl and wiped her hand on the grass before rushing to him.

  But Morrigan and Kelile had raced ahead and met him first.

  “Oh, Lance, I’m so glad to see you!” Morrigan reached to hug him.

  He patted her shoulder and stepped away. “Hi.”

  “What are you doin’ here, man?” Kelile and Lance bumped fists. “Did Redhawk turn ya down?”

  “No. He wasn’t there. He won’t be back for a couple of days.” Lance looked around them and met Aishling’s eyes. “What’s going on? You look funny, I mean sick.”

  “You’d be sick too if you saw what she was eatin’,” Kelile answered.

  “I haven’t eaten it yet.” Her cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry Redhawk was gone, but I’m so glad to see you.”

  “We all are.” Morrigan scowled at her and stepped between her and Lance. “Come over and sit down. Tell us what happened.” She clutched his arm and pulled him to the sleeping bag.

  After they had sat, Lance picked up the bowl of chunky paste. “What is this?”

  “An herbal remedy I made for Aish. She wasn’t feeling good,” Morrigan said.

  “But what is it?”

  “It’s an herb I got out of her mother’s garden.”

  “But what is the herb?”

  “Sacred datura,” Morrigan answered.

  He leaned over the vessel of crushed leaves and sniffed.

  “I wouldn’t get my nose too close to that stuff.” Kelile fanned his face. “That stuff’s rank.”

  Lance picked up the uncrushed leaves lying beside the sleeping bag. “Morrigan, this looks like jimsonweed.” Standing, he said, “Show me where you got this.”

  She led him to the entrance of the garden and pointed.

  He moved around her and walked to where she had gathered the leaves. After bending over and sniffing, his head shot up, and he yelled, “This is jimsonweed!” He threw the leaves down, charged out of the garden, and rounded on her. “That stuff is poisonous! You could have killed her.”

  When he returned to the sleeping bag, Kelile handed him the paste. “I can’t believe you did this, Morrigan. What makes you think you have enough knowledge for this?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and she said, “I’m sorry.” She hiccupped.

  “And you.” Lance pointed to Aishling. “Don’t you have a mind of your own? You need to think before doing something like this.”

  Addressing Kelile, he said, “Why didn’t you stop them?”

  “Don’t you be yellin’ at me, man. I ain’t in charge of these two.” Kelile crossed his arms and stared at the ground.

  Aishling began crying, no longer able to hold back the feelings churning inside her as if she were a blender. Lance was back. And he cares! But why is he yelling at me? She hadn’t done it. She hadn’t wanted to eat that stuff. How dare he tell her she didn’t have a mind of her own!

  “Jeez, I don’t wanna listen to this.”

  “Come on Kelile, let’s get rid of this stuff and see if we can catch some fish. The lake is back there.” Lance pointed behind the garage.

  She lifted her head and watched him through a sheet of tears as he got his little metal box with fishing line and hooks and walked away, Kelile trailing behind.

  “I’m so sorry,” Morrigan muttered. “I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. I truly thought I was helping.”

  Lance’s words shoved aside her doubts about Morrigan. Her hands tightened into fists when she replayed what he had said, “Don’t you have a mind of your own?” She’d show him. She’d show him she didn’t need him. That she could make her own decisions. That she could take care of herself. Her chin stiffened as she shoved the tears off her face and stood. She would do something besides whine.

&nbs
p; “Morri.”

  “Yes?” Morrigan shuddered.

  “One of Ma’s friends lives down the road from here. Let’s go see her. I want to ask her some questions. She probably knows an enchantment that can help me remember. I’m sure of it.”

  “You forgive me?” Morrigan sat up, placing her hands together as if in prayer.

  “Yes. Besides, Lance was right. And from now on, I’m listening to me. I knew I shouldn’t eat that stuff. I kept getting sick when I thought about doing it.”

  Aishling knocked on the bright blue front door of a chocolate brown cottage. Bright blue shutters accented the windows, and pots of marigolds added splashes of yellow on the stoop. A small, lilac-colored sign hung in the front yard—Snowbird Pagan, Wiccan, and Old Forest Crafts.

  “Anita?” Aishling said in a hushed tone as a short, bulbous woman with shoulder-length, graying hair opened the door.

  The woman’s eyes grew into saucers, and her mouth opened into an, “Oh!”

  “You remember me? Emer O’Brian’s daughter?”

  “Yes. Oh my Goddess! What are you doing here?”

  “Didn’t you know where I was?”

  “No, dear. I knew you had been placed in a home somewhere, but I didn’t know where. Please, come in.” She motioned for Aishling to enter, but blocked Morrigan. “Who’s this, dear?”

  “That’s Morri, my best friend. She was at Herald Home with me.”

  “Hi,” Morrigan said, giving a quick wave.

  “Uh, okay.” Anita moved out of the way and shut the door behind Morrigan.

  They followed her into the living room.

  “Anita, I may as well tell you because I don’t have a lot of time. I ran away from the home with Morri and a couple of other friends. I’m here to find out what happened to Ma. I can’t remember much about the night of the fire. I hoped you’d be able to work an enchantment or spell that could help me remember.” She and Morrigan sat on the couch. “Do you know anything about that night? Have you heard from Ma?”

  Anita scrapped her bottom lip with her upper teeth as she settled into a recliner. “You don’t remember that night?”

  “I only remember being rescued by a fireman. And he told me no one else was in the house. Ma just disappeared. I’ve been at that stupid home all this time, and they won’t tell me anything. Don’t you know what happened? Have you heard from Ma? Is she hiding?”

  Anita’s face lost its color. “Uh … I don’t know what happened that night. I haven’t heard from Emer,” her voice had become softer and softer. Hesitating, she shook her head as though she was arguing with herself. “However, a woman came here soon after the fire. She said she had been very close to your mother when you were younger. I got the impression she was one of us. Anyway, she was packing some things to hold for you.”

  Anita watched her fat, black cat stretch at her feet before continuing. “Her name was Corra … McKenna? No, that’s not right. But she did say folks around here knew her as Eagle Woman. She told me the most important thing to Emer was your safety, and that she was placing you in a children’s home. Uh … She thought it best if none of us knew where.”

  “Why?” Aishling asked.

  Almost whispering now, Anita answered, “Eagle Woman feared your life was in danger. She said a malevolent witch was looking for your mother because she thought your ma had something she wanted … uh … a powerful talisman. She was afraid this witch would hurt you to get to your mother.” Anita shook her head again and huffed. “That’s why no one’s tried to find you, dear. I’m so surprised you’re here. I don’t know what to do now.”

  “Where is this Eagle Woman?”

  “I think she said she lived in Bryson City. I don’t remember for sure. Aishling, what she told me squared up with something your mother had said shortly before the fire.” Wringing her hands now, she continued, “I’m sorry, dear. Your mother had also said a witch who had turned dark was pursuing her. Emer was terrified that something would happen to you.”

  “Did she tell you the name of the witch?” Morrigan interrupted, scooting forward to the edge of the couch.

  Anita drew back. Her eyes popped open.

  “The name of the witch after her, do you remember?” Morrigan repeated.

  The black cat growled and hopped on Anita’s lap as she began rocking back and forth. “Let me think.” Her pupils dilated, making her eyes look bizarre. She jerked her attention to Aishling. “Yes, it’s starting to come to me. Her name was Ele … Mmm.” Anita grabbed her neck with both hands, gasping for air. The cat dove off her lap as she stood and reached out for Aishling, still gasping. “A spell!” She uttered through struggled breaths, “Leave. … Not safe! Go ba … to … hhh … home—” she stumbled toward the front door “—before … too … la… .”

  “But, her name? It’s really important,” Aishling pleaded. “I need to know.” Nausea licked her stomach, her warning. She needed to get out of there. Fast. But when she looked at Anita’s face turning blue, she couldn’t budge.

  “Ele … Mmm …” Anita’s eyes rolled back. She collapsed on the floor.

  “Let’s get out of here! Hurry!” Morrigan shoved Aishling to the front door.

  “Wait!” Aishling grabbed the door’s frame and held herself in place. “We have to make sure she’s okay.”

  “No! Don’t you see? She’s got some kind of spell on her. She can’t talk to you. That’s why she’s choking.”

  “I have to make sure she’s okay.”

  “She’ll be fine. She just fainted. Come on!”

  Still resisting Morrigan’s shoves, she waited, hoping to see Anita breathe.

  When she sighted the smallest of breaths, she let Morrigan push her out of the house and down the steps to the road.

  36

  They ran—almost all the way back to Aishling’s home.

  “Stop, I can’t breathe.” Aishling panted.

  “Let’s at least get out of sight.” Morrigan tugged her off the road.

  Aishling leaned against a holly tree while they rested.

  “Listen,” Morrigan said. “Don’t tell Lance and Kelile what happened. They’ll want to go back, but we should stay away.”

  Aishling wrestled with guilt. What if Anita was still lying on the floor? What if she needed help? Was it her fault Anita had choked? “I don’t know. Do you think she’ll be all right?”

  Morrigan nodded.

  “But—”

  “Listen to me. She’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  No. She had heard that before. How could she trust Morri? “I’m going back and make sure she’s okay.”

  “We don’t have time. Don’t you want to get back before Lance? She’ll be fine now that you’re not there. Being around you is what caused her to choke. That’s why Eagle Woman didn’t want anyone to know where you were—not only for your safety but for anyone who might try to help you.”

  “Okay … . But I am going to tell Lance and Kelile everything else. Maybe they can help us find Eagle Woman. Maybe Redhawk knows her. We have to find her, Morri.”

  They arrived back at Aishling’s home just as Kelile laid two medium-sized fish on a flat rock by their campsite.

  He grinned and patted his chest with his left fist. “Me great fisherman. Check it out.”

  Lance chuckled until he looked at Aishling. “What happened now? Where have you been? What did you do?”

  She dragged herself to the sleeping bag and flopped down, followed by Morrigan. “We went to see a friend of my mother’s.” After gulping for air, Aishling relayed part of what had happened. She stopped talking and studied her worn, filthy sneakers. Up to this point, she had chosen her words carefully, as Morri had requested. But it didn’t make sense. Why not tell them everything?

  “Uh … Aishling?” Kelile chuckled. “Did you forget you were talkin’ to us?”

  “Oh.” Refocusing, she continued, “Well, this woman thought that the bad witch might come after me.” She peered at Morrigan. “I think that witch i
s the one who started the fire.”

  “You don’t know that.” Morrigan crossed her hands over her chest.

  She studied Morri’s face a moment. “But, it makes sense. Don’t you see? That witch must have gone to Anita and put the spell on her. Anita choked because she tried to tell me the witch’s name.”

  “Aish!” Morrigan stood.

  “Wait.” Lance caught Morrigan’s wrist and held her in place. He said to Aishling, “Your friend started choking?” She nodded. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes … I think so.”

  “Did she tell you who the witch was?” Lance let go of Morrigan’s wrist.

  “No. But she told us the witch was hunting for something—a powerful talisman—and that she thought Ma had it.”

  “The Suti Stone!” Kelile sat up. “I bet that witch is the bitch doggin’ me.”

  “You don’t know that,” Morrigan said.

  “I bet it is.”

  “You all can’t prove any of this.” Morrigan fisted her hands at her sides. “You don’t know who it is. You don’t know if she started the fire.”

  “Girl, you act like we’re talkin’ about one of your relatives.” Kelile snickered, paused, then, “Well … maybe we are.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  When he rolled his eyes at her, a hush overtook them.

  Aishling flicked her shoestrings several times.

  Lance touched her arm and asked, “Did your friend know who the woman was who had warned her?”

  “Oh, yes! If we can find her, she can help us.”

  “Well, who was it?” Kelile asked.

  “Anita said she was known around here as Eagle Woman.”

  “What?” Lance lurched a few inches toward Aishling before stopping himself.

  She winced and leaned away from him. “Eagle Woman.”

  He shot up and stood over her, glaring.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “What else did she say about Eagle Woman?”

  Aishling’s heart slammed into her stomach. Tears began forming in her eyes. Lance knew Eagle Woman. Was she—