The Daughters of Maine

by Tish Thawer

  Nadie shook her head as she handed Trin a loaf of what looked and smelled like corn bread. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t. Today will be the first day I return to the house to see the real Madame Kate, though, so I’ll be sure to ask if she’s seen or heard anything as well.”

  “Thank you. Also, I need to ask you for another favor. There is a bowl that’s kept in the attic. It’s should be in the far back corner, wrapped in a painted deer skin. Could you please bring it to me tonight?”

  Nadie tilted her head, contemplating her answer a little too long for Trin’s liking. “I need to attempt a scrying spell, and unfortunately I don’t have a good enough lay of the land to draw a map. That bowl has been in my family for a very long time,” Trin confessed.

  Nadie relaxed. “Of course, I’ll bring it by with dinner. Now, here is another bit of bread for your sisters, and I have the jobs the council assigned to you for the day. You will aid our shaman with his healing, while your sisters will help attend the tribe’s garden and retrieve the traps from the river.”

  “No problem. Where do I go to meet the shaman?” Trin asked.

  “His hut lies another quarter mile down this path.” She pointed to a thin dirt trail that left the village and veered further into the forest. “Now, if you’ll wake your sisters, I’ll escort them to meet the other women they’ll be helping today.”

  Trin nodded and entered the hut, finding Caris and Kennedy already on their feet.

  “Gardening and retrieving traps? Really? Why do you get the cushy magical job?” Kennedy teased.

  “I’m sorry. Probably because I’m the only one here who she’s witnessed using magic before. Well, not me, but you know what I mean.” Trin shrugged.

  “Yeah, we get it. But be careful, okay,” Caris added, gratefully accepting the loaf of bread for her and Kennedy.

  “I will, and you too. See you back here this evening.” Trin pulled them both into a quick hug then led them outside where she waved goodbye to the three of them.

  Realizing she had a moment alone, she returned to their hut and re-fixed her braids. Brushing as much of the grass and dirt from her dress as she could. She laughed to herself, thinking back to her previous life here and how many times she’d wished she could have tried on some of their beautiful clothes and furs. Now, she would give anything for a camera to capture the four of them in this lifetime together; her, her sisters, and the one Indian maiden who’d made her previous life here somewhat bearable and purpose filled.

  Shaking the memories from her mind, she left the wigwam and ventured down the path towards the shaman’s hut. Ten minutes later, she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the most elaborate dwelling she’d seen so far. Hanging over the door were a large set of moose antlers, draped in beads, dried plants, and red-dyed leather ribbons. Encircling the base of the entire structure were the skulls of smaller forest animals; rabbits, fox, squirrel, and lord knows what else, all staring up at her with feathers sticking out of their eye sockets.

  Trin shivered then eased towards the front door. “Hello? I’ve been sent from the village to help with your healing today,” Trin called out, suddenly worried she should have brushed up on what she remembered of their native tongue. She was pleasantly surprised when a scratchy voice replied in clear English.

  “Enter.”

  Trin ducked her head beneath the threshold and found herself transported. Not literally this time, but from the advancing world around them and back to a time filled with magic and the humble worship of the land and sea. Bones, herbs, feathers, and nets filled the hut, along with a thick layer of smoke, leaving Trin dizzy as her eyes and lungs fought to adjust to her new surroundings.

  Blinking through a thick fog, Trin spotted the shaman to her right. He was sitting at the far end of the hut on a raised wooden platform covered with hand-stitched pillows, woven blankets, and layers upon layers of skins and furs thrown about in a hap-hazard way. His attire–– comprised of much less––was nothing more than a breech-cloth made of tanned skin. Trin waited patiently for him to speak while taking in his wrinkled skin and wise eyes that matched his gravelly voice.

  “Who said I needed help with my healing?” he asked, breaking their awkward silence.

  “I was told by Nadie that it was my assigned tasked for the day. How may I be of assistance?”

  The shaman squinted at Trin through the smoke, scanning her appearance from top to bottom. “You don’t look like a maiden from our tribe. How are you supposed to help me?”

  Trin lowered her head. “I’m not sure, but I’ll be more than happy to try in any way you require.”

  After a few moments of awkward silence, he motioned her forward. “Join me.” He pointed to a pillow opposite the small fire that burned in a large copper bowl set directly in front of him.

  Trin bowed in thanks then took a seat, gasping when the old man blew a large plume of smoke into her face. Her chest constricted, pulling her stomach to her spine as a remnant of her astral self was yanked out her back. She felt it immediately; the shaman read her magical signature which now hovered directly behind her. She turned and gazed up at the hazy image of herself dressed in a puritan dress and dark woolen cloak, holding a wand high into the air.

  “Seems like you’ll be able to help me after all,” he snickered.

  Trin smiled and turned back to the tricky old man as her foggy form dissipated. She watched as he reached for another pinch of the fragrant tobacco he was smoking. “Would you like me to prepare us some tea?” Trin offered.

  The shaman nodded. “But first tell me your name.”

  It was a simple question but one that held multiple answers. Should she default to her true name, knowing he’d seen her pure essence? Or should the life she was now living and would continue to be for the span of her magic remain the one she clung to? Or, should she use the name she was known for in this time? Decisions, decisions.

  He watched her internal debate and eased her warring soul with one simple word. “Kanti.” He pointed at her, nodding, then closed his eyes and took another drag from the long stem of his pipe.

  Honored by her new Indian name, she smiled like a fool as she puttered around the hut, preparing tea and taking note of all the spices and herbs stored upon a raw wooden shelf. Returning to the platform she handed him a cup. “Do you have a preferred spice you take in your tea?”

  He shook his head no then sipped the green tea, nodding in satisfaction. “Well made, now sit.”

  She dropped back onto the pillow, crossing her legs and awaited her instructions. An hour later, she woke from a deep meditative stupor she and the shaman had both entered and questioned if it had been intentional or not. She hadn’t partaken in the pipe but thought perhaps he wanted a little more information on her before trusting her with his magic.

  “We begin now,” he stated just as a set of footsteps approached the hut.

  Bells clanged from outside, and he motioned for her to greet their first client of the day. Trin, now Kanti, rose and started towards the door but stopped halfway there. “I feel I should know your name before we begin.”

  “You already do.”

  She closed her eyes and concentrated, pulling his name and a soul-deep connection from the journey they’d just shared. She smiled back at him and continued to the door. Easing back the bark covering, she welcomed a young man and his mother. “Aranck is ready for you.”

  Kanti stood off to the side while they spoke in their native tongue to one another. She could decipher a few words from their conversation that she remembered, but would wait for instruction before attempting to interfere.

  “Kanti, please bring me a poultice of aloe leaves, bayberry root, and comfrey,.” Aranck instructed then returned to the conversation with his patients.

  She’d been correct in her assumption; this particular poultice would treat a cut upon the boy’s leg. Kanti mixed the ingredients in a wooden bowl with the hand-carved tools laying on the workspace just below the shelf. Adding in a bit mor
e aloe, she released the soothing gel into the grinded leaves which provided a nice binding agent. She turned to look around the space and spotted a skin hanging by the door. Bringing it with her, she returned to the boy and cleaned his cut with the fresh water it held, then applied the poultice and wrapped the wound with a strip of pressed cotton she’d found in the cubby next to the workbench. Looking up into Aranck’s eyes, she knew what was expected of her next.

  Laying her hands over the bandage, Trin summoned her healing magic and chanted under her breath as the shaman intoned his own rhythmic spell. “Goddess, heal this wound pure and true, aided by the love reflected in you. So mote it be.” Her touch warmed, and the shaman smiled.

  The young boy stood, putting his full weight on his leg and beamed at his mother. “Thank you,” the woman repeated over and over as they left the hut, making sure to leave her offering of two polished stones and a sliver of bone in the bowl next to the door.

  “Well done,” Aranck stated as soon as they were gone. “I can see you’re going to be of great use to us here.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “How was your day,” Kennedy asked as she and her sisters fell into their beds back in the wigwam.

  “Interesting. I was sent on a surprise soul journey, thanks to the tribe’s shaman, then once he found me worthy, he gave me my Indian name. After that, I spent the day mixing poultices and healing tinctures for the tribe’s injured and sick,” Trin replied.

  “Oooh, what’s your Indian name?” Caris asked excitedly, pushing up onto her elbows.

  “Kanti.”

  “Nice. I like it. Do you think we’ll get names too?” Caris asked Kennedy.

  “Who knows. Maybe after we pull more fish from the river or harvest more herbs from the garden they’ll deem us worthy and give us a cool name too.” Kennedy flopped over and faced the wall, pulling the thick blanket of fur up and over her head.

  “What’s the matter with her?” Trin sent into Caris’s mind.

  “She wasn’t thrilled with our assignment, especially when the elderly women we worked with kept correcting the way she was collecting the fish.”

  “Oh man. Well, hopefully we can get some down time tomorrow and return before Nadie leaves our dinner for us, so I can ask her if she’s seen anyone else in the vicinity.” Trin shrugged, frustrated she’d missed her friend this evening.

  “Yeah, I hope so too.”

  Trin smiled at Caris and watched as she tucked in for the night, then rolled over and silently cast one last spell before closing her eyes as well. “The day is over, the night is here; please watch over all I hold dear. Let us wake to a brand new day, filled with joy in every way. So mote it be.”

  Smoke drifted across the three sisters as they slept, bringing to life their dreams––or nightmares in the case of the youngest one. Aranck watched as images from Kennedy’s dream took form in the fog; he watched as demons ripped apart her sisters and the loss had ripped apart her heart. She couldn’t protect them before and was terrified she wouldn’t be able to do so now.

  He blew another burst of smoke into the room, shifting the vision to the middle sister’s dream of a life with children. A large plantation with rolling greens and three sets of little feet padding next to their handsome father while she watched from the nearest bench. Suddenly, she grabbed her chest and screamed as her soul was pushed forward into her next life without warning.

  The third puff of smoke fell over Trin, encasing her body in the magical mist. Images of her and her sister witches rose up from the wavering layer, dancing and frolicking along her body. A strong male appeared and whirled in behind her, grabbing her by the waist and bringing his lips to hers as they danced around a fire. The mist-made puppets twirled and spun as one big happy family until a dark ooze erupted from the fire and settled over them all. Aranck watched the foggy scene turn dark, the darkness blanking out the stars and coating everything in its path. The images of Trin, her lover, and her sisters melted into the ground, dissolving into nothingness.

  The shaman blew out a cleansing breath then left silently, leaving the girls to dream in peace.

  “What did you discover?” Nadie asked.

  “Their souls are true and you’re correct, full of magic. We need them here,” Aranck started back down the path that would lead him home.

  “So what should I do about the bowl and the information the eldest wants from me?”

  “Keep it from her,” he simply stated then disappeared into the waiting arms of the forest.

  Trin, once again, was the first one to rise. She tiptoed out of the wigwam to welcome the dawn of a new day but tripped over a wooden stake that’d been driven into the ground directly in front of their door. Reaching down, she retrieved a piece of thin parchment that was tied to the piece of wood. Scrawled in brown dye it read, “Your breakfast will be brought by another. I will return soon – Nadie.”

  Trin sighed, not happy with the feeling that was settling in her bones; Nadie hadn’t brought her the scrying bowl she’d asked for, but also Aranck’s words from yesterday had become a thorn inching its way further and further under her skin, “I can see you’re going to be of great use to us here.” That was the problem; they shouldn’t be here and definitely couldn’t stay.

  “Good morning, Kanti. I’m Semcka.” Trin stood to find another beautiful young maiden bowing in front of her. “Nadie instructed me to deliver your breakfast and your assigned tasks for the day.” She handed Trin two more loaves of bread, wrapped fished, and two skins––one containing a batch of flavorful tea and the other, fresh water from the creek. “Your tasks are the same as yesterday, you with the healer and your sisters at the creek and gardens.” Semcka smiled shyly then turned to leave.

  “Wait. Can you tell me where Nadie’s gone?” Trin asked, her question secretly carrying multiple concerns.

  “I’m sorry, I do not know.” Semcka skittered away, fueling Trin’s rising concern.

  Trin shook her head and re-entered the hut. “Breakfast is served.”

  Caris and Kennedy had nothing to add to the non-existent conversation as they ate, so after finishing, they sent Trin with the skin of water, while they set out towards the river once again with the skin full of tea. “Do you think we should say something to her tonight?” Kennedy asked Caris.

  “What would you say?”

  “Why the hell are we still here doing these stupid jobs instead of looking for Ann? That’s what I’d say,” Kennedy whispered.

  “Then no, I don’t think you should say anything. I’m sure being back here is hard for her, and I know she already has Nadie gathering information and the things we need to cast our spell, so I suggest we just stay patient,” Caris replied.

  “Right. Patient while I pull stinking, flopping fish from the traps while you get to sort through the herbs and daisies in the garden, and Trin gets to use her magic to help heal people. Okay. I’ll be patient.” Kennedy tossed her braids behind her back and walked ahead.

  “Hey! Stop complaining. At least we’re safe here and not prisoners or worse.” Caris caught her by the elbow. “Besides, you can work in the garden today if you’d like. I don’t mind gathering the fish.”

  Kennedy let out a frustrated breath. “Okay, thanks. And, I’m sorry. Being here may be emotionally stressful for Trin, but I’m starting to feel weird too. I’ll be happy when we can get out of here and return home.”

  “I know. Me too.” Caris pulled her little sister into a quick hug then continued down the path toward the river, while Kennedy veered right toward the gardens.

  Once she received her instructions, Kennedy settled in and began harvesting row after row of turnips. Digging in the dirt wasn’t much fun either, but it beat dealing with fish traps and the woman who’d rode her ass about every single mistake she made.

  “You look lost,” said a soft voice.

  Kennedy looked up into a set of large, almond-shaped eyes. The maiden was younger than Nadie and wore a plain skin wrap-skirt and vest, dra
ped with a heavy fur instead of the decorated dresses she’d seen on the older woman of the tribe. “You could say that.” Kennedy smiled.

  “If you’d like some help, or some company, it would be my pleasure,” offered the maiden.

  Kennedy would much rather complete her task alone, but thought better of sharing those particular thoughts. She didn’t know the customs here and wouldn’t want to offend anyone by refusing their generosity. “Of course. Thank you. I’m...” Kennedy stopped, not sure whether to use her real name or if they should have received or even made-up names of their own by now.

  “You’re Ketnu. At least that’s what my mama told me.” She pointed to a woman a few rows away who smiled and nodded kindly.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Kennedy agreed without hesitation. “And what’s your name?”

  “I’m Tawni.” The young woman beamed, dropping to her knees and digging her hands straight into the dirt. It was obvious she was happy to help, but probably more so just to have someone to talk to.

  Ketnu watched the sun cross the sky as she and Tawni talked all afternoon. They’d discussed the tribe’s education and why everyone here was taught to speak English––for the furtherment of the trade agreements with the white men; how they were almost done with the food preparation and stocking up their winter stores––which Ketnu and her sister were currently apart of; and the arrival of Commander Nicholson––which was good news according to Tawni.

  “Thank you for letting me help today.” Tawni threw her arms around Ketnu/Kennedy’s waist then raced off to help her mother home.

  Kennedy walked down the path back toward the river and met Caris at the fork with a smile on her face. “Hi!”

  “Hi. It looks like gardening agrees with you,” Caris teased.

  Kennedy shook her head and took her sister’s hand. “Yes, I guess it does. And how was your day?”