by Ashley McLeo
“Christ!” Evelyn exclaimed, her head whirling around to face them. “Don’t you two have any manners?”
“We came to check on you,” Sara said, letting herself in and easing onto the bottom corner of the bed.
Evelyn’s sneer grew the tiniest bit smaller.
“We were wondering if you’ve made a decision about the unbinding? Sara and I are planning on doing it.”
“Like I didn’t already know that. What have you two got to lose anyways?
“Uhh . . . A chance at a normal life? Just like you,” Lily replied.
“A normal life!” Evelyn wailed, rubbing her temples. “I’ve never been normal. Even in utero. Didn’t you see what I did to that woman?” Evelyn jabbed her finger in the direction of the living room. “Don’t you two have any idea who I am?”
Lily rolled her eyes. Her patience had already run out. I am so over this diva bullshit. “What does it matter? Do you really think that you can go back to being who you were before? Do you even want to? Don’t you want to see what could happen?” The words flew from Lily’s mouth, completely unplanned, but also completely honest.
“No,” Evelyn’s head dropped and she sighed. “I was happy being who I was. I have a family that loves me. A family with money, power, and a good reputation. I have friends and people who wanted to be me. I bet you wouldn’t want to trade being a Locksley for a bit of magic either.”
“Wait a minute,” Sara said, her copper eyes bulging from their sockets, “Locksley? As in Locksley Enterprises?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Oh my God! My friend at Princeton would kill to have a job there!” Sara paused, before adding, “You’re possibly the richest person I’ve ever met.”
“Most wealthy heiress in the U.S. according to a recent Forbes poll. Not that it matters much now,” Evelyn muttered.
“Why’s that?” Lily asked, stitching her brows together.
“Isn’t it obvious? Even if I go back to my normal life like nothing ever happened, no one would do business with me. Who in their right mind would do business with a witch? Somehow word would get out. It always does.” She threw Lily a thinly veiled accusatory glance.
“Are you insinuating that I would sell you to the media? Because let me tell you, Miss Locksley, if you were to leave and go back to your hoity-toity life I’d never so much as . . .”
“So does that mean you’re staying? You’ll do the unbinding?” Sara interrupted, her face radiating a hopefulness that Lily found difficult to comprehend.
The question hung in the air, wafting through the room before Evelyn finally claimed it.
“I feel like I have no choice. Knowing I’ve never been the person I thought I was—it changes everything. I always envisioned myself powering through the board room. That seems like such a mundane aspiration compared to what I could have if I’m unbound. I mean, did you see what I did, what we did, before we were even born?”
Lily felt her frustration wane. No matter how often Evelyn insulted her, she couldn’t deny the truth in her words. In the things that mattered, they were more alike than different.
“I feel the same way, you know. Sara, too. I didn’t have all the finery you had, but none of us can deny what we saw. I’m scared as hell but ready to feel how I’m meant to feel,” Lily said, shooting an apologetic glance at Sara for poaching her line.
Sara rose from the bed and extended a hand to each of them.
For the first time, Lily, Evelyn, and Sara were an united front. Lily had no idea how long the camaraderie would last, but she felt better knowing that for now, they were all on the same page.
Brigit looked up the moment Lily turned the corner into the kitchen.
“Please have a seat. I was about to make a cuppa before bed. Would you care for any?” She pointed to the table laid for four.
“We’d love some,” Sara answered, taking a seat.
Brigit joined them seconds later with a kettle full of steaming, fragrant tea.
“Magic has its practical uses,” she said with a wink as she poured hot tea into their mugs. The room filled with the calming scent of lemon balm. Setting the kettle on a knit square in the center of the table, Brigit took the remaining seat between Lily and Evelyn. She raised her eyebrows in question.
Sara, their self-appointed triplet spokeswoman, took the lead. “We’ve decided to do the unbinding. But we still have many questions. First of all, will it hurt?”
Despite the effects of her first magical experience, Lily hadn’t yet wondered if the unbinding would hurt. She was thankful that at least one of them went to the trouble of having “many questions.” I sleep and Sara comes up with a game plan. Way to contribute to the team.
Brigit beamed at the three of them. The transformation on her face from reserved to joyful was astounding. While pretty before, when lit up from within Brigit looked ethereal.
“You’ve no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve prayed to the goddess for years that I’d see you again, that we’d set our relationships to right, and that you’d find your way among our people. Thank you for giving me the chance. I know this was a lot to take in, but you’ve shown you have open minds and ready hearts by saying yes. Both qualities you will need in the months to come.” She paused and wiped her eyes.
“As for your questions, I can only hope I’ll be able to answer them. Your binding is the only one I’ve ever performed. As you were unable to talk, I’m unsure if you felt pain, though I’d prefer to think it was a painless experience.”
Brigit’s gaze fell on Lily, and she felt her face redden. I’m the weak one in her eyes, she thought.
“How does it work? The mechanics, I mean,” Sara plowed on.
“Bindings and their inverse, unbindings, take best during full moons. We missed that window but she’s still rather on the full side. We’ll take advantage of that and do the unbinding tomorrow if you three are amenable. It will look exactly as your binding looked twenty-one years ago. Three circles of three, with myself in the center. As caster and the life to whom your magic is bound, it’s imperative that I have equal access to each of you. The first and smallest circle from the center will be composed of you three. My sisters will form the next circle. They’ll act as the muscle, and protect us if need be. The final circle will be Nora, Fiona, and Morgane, the very three who were tasked with taking you from this place. Their primary goal is to create a barrier between us and the outside world. This is quite difficult and important. We have no idea how magic pent up so long will act. It’s imperative as little energy as possible be allowed to leave the perimeters we’ve set for our circle. We must keep your existence a secret for as long as possible and not send up loads of sparks or grow a forest twenty kilometers east.”
“Sooo, who exactly are we fighting? The prophecy mentioned a fata king? Is that like a nationality I’ve never heard of?” Evelyn’s eyes were still red, but her voice had regained some of its strength and bluntness.
Brigit’s face darkened. “It’s late and that tale is too long for tonight. Tomorrow when my sisters are here—Mary has spent years studying, preparing what she could for you. Rest assured you will know everything we know before the unbinding; I only wish it was more. I will tell you that we believe your unbinding will set in motion events millennia in the making.”
“Oh, is that all?“ Evelyn asked dripping sarcasm.
“I don’t understand the secrecy. If we’re about to save humanity from a timeless night, which sounds like mass deaths to me, wouldn’t people want to know who they are up against? Why leave this to us? It turns out we don’t even know ourselves very well, let alone each other,” Sara said looking troubled.
“The history of our people is bound to the strongest forces on the planet. Non-magic folk could never believe that; most hardly believe in magic at all nowadays. Magic shows how powerless they are. It frightens them. They’d deny, deny, deny, and then try using bombs, weapons, and war—all useless against the forces we are up against. No, my dears, this a fight for the old p
owers. The new ones have no place here,” Brigit said, looking as if the very thought exhausted her. “I promise you will understand more tomorrow, but for now I must retire. It’s been a long, emotional day for all of us. Please make yourselves at home. Eat whatever you like. The bath’s next to my room, towels are under the sink. I’ll leave the door cracked open so you know which one.” Her knees popped as she stood.
“Wait!” Lily cried, knowing she’d be unable to sleep without the answer she needed most. “What happened to our father?”
Brigit shrank in on herself before them. “Your father knew what we did and why we did it. He consented, but couldn’t live with the guilt and sorrow of giving you up. After we lost track of Sara he changed. He stopped taking care of himself and thought little of his own life. He contracted pneumonia and did not seek medical help. Refused even our own family’s potions and assistance. He told me right before he died that the pain of not knowing you and that he couldn’t save you from your fate drove him to it. I blame myself every day for that. Aengus died when you three were six years old. I can tell you with surety that he thought of you every day, until the day he died.”
He’s gone. I’ll never know him, Lily thought as sorrow blanketed the room.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sara said, her voice cracking. “He seemed like such a good man and father.”
“The best I’ve ever known,” Brigit croaked.
Evelyn coughed uncomfortably, “So is there anything we can do to prepare for the unbinding?”
Brigit raised her watery gaze, her head tilting as she considered Evelyn’s question. “I expect it would be easier if you three took the morning to get to know one another. As you’ll soon learn, stronger bonds make for stronger magic. Sleep well.”
A History of Witches
The cottage was still, its silence punctuated only by the sound of Sara’s heavy breathing. Easing herself from the bed, Lily shed her night clothes, pulled on a shirt and pants, and tiptoed out the door. The living room was empty and serene, bathed in soothing morning light. She walked to the window. Some of the flowers in Brigit’s garden were still asleep, closed in on themselves, like the women inside the cottage. A gurgle punctuated the morning calm and Lily cringed. The last thing she wanted to do was wake everyone by clanging about pots and pans, but her stomach had other ideas. She was ravenous. Maybe I can find bread to tide me over until the others wake up, she thought hopefully.
Rounding the corner of the stone hearth, Lily jerked to a stop and inhaled sharply. Gwenn and Aoife sat at the table with two steaming cups of tea. Neither noticed Lily’s arrival, absorbed as they were with a mess of papers in front of them.
“Morning,” Lily said, her voice plugged up with sleep.
“Was wondering when we’d see one of you. Brigit’s a late sleeper and we thought it best someone be up to help cook you breakfast,” Gwenn said. She looked up from the stacks, a sleepy smile on her heart-shaped face that so resembled Lily’s own. “Pity for you Mary isn’t the one cooking. So what’ll it be? We’ve got everything you can think.”
“Just something to tide me over until the others wake up. Tea and toast?” Lily said trying her best to focus on the women’s—her aunts’—faces and not the strange manuscripts on the table.
“Tea and toast it is,” Gwenn said, bustling into the kitchen.
“You slept well?” Aoife asked. “Generally the more difficult a time someone has with ceremens, mind magic to you, the better they sleep. The brain uses more energy than any other organ, so messing with it can knock a person out for quite a while.”
“Out like a light. Even after my nap,” Lily said taking a seat next to Aoife, who smelled strongly of pepper and ginger.
Aoife nodded and pulled a handful of papers closer to her.
“What’s all this?”
“Old myths, legends, fairy tales, even a couple primary documents. We’ve been collecting them for years. Most are Mary’s finds, though I’ve done my share of research, too.” She plucked out a particularly old-looking scrap of paper. “This one here is my favorite. I found it in a crumbling Albanian church.”
Lily held the paper with nimble fingers. It was thin, with a texture unlike anything she’d ever felt. It was also, without a doubt, the oldest thing she’d ever touched. Words lined the paper’s frayed edges, as indecipherable to Lily as Chinese—or, she thought, half of what Brigit and her sisters said. She squinted at a drawing in the middle of the document, the one thing she could make sense of. It was faded and almost ludicrously small, but Lily thought she understood why Aoife had shown it to her. The illustration depicted three women standing in a circle, hands clasped together. Two smaller solid circles hovered, protected within the confines of their arms. A stick man stood atop one of the circles, while an undefined blob with a roughly drawn face stood atop the other. Above each woman was a small symbol.
“What do those mean?” Lily pointed at the symbols as a plate of toast smothered with gold butter and a cup of tea were set before her.
Aoife grinned, and Lily realized she had played right into her hands.
“Those are ancient Sumerian symbols for earth, water, and fire. It’s one of the few pieces we’ve found that correlates with the prophecy.”
“That’s enough, Aoife. We can’t be telling her what we know before the other two, and certainly not without Mary. It isn’t right,” Gwenn said, glaring at her sister.
Aoife looked as if Christmas, or whatever witches celebrated, had been canceled.
Lily shrugged, unfazed. She was sure whatever Aoife was about to tell her would still be insane and unbelievable a few hours from now. She sipped her tea. Her eyes popped opened. A dozen distinct, mouthwatering flavors were rolling over her tongue.
“Oh my God . . . what is this tea?”
“Ah, you like that, eh? That’s our Brig’s Irish breakfast blend. All your traditional ingredients, but Brig grows everything here. Plus she adds holy basil for a twist,” Gwenn said, her eyebrows raised. “I’d sooner climb Mt. Kilimanjaro than blend my own tea. Our Brig has a knack for it, though.”
Lily nodded. It was close to being the best tea she’d ever had. Close, but not quite, she thought, unwilling to place it above Em’s homemade blends. Those would always be the best.
A floorboard creaked, and Lily turned to see Evelyn and Sara hovering at the edge of the dining room.
“Morning?” Sara asked, clearly unsure if she was interrupting something.
“Good morning, my dears!” Gwenn called from the kitchen. “Aoife, let’s get those papers out of the way and help me make these girls a proper breakfast.” She fluttered her hands and the papers arranged themselves into neat piles before soaring out of the room.
“I suppose we’ll be able to do that by next week,” Evelyn muttered, pulling a cashmere wrap around herself.
“Feel better?” Sara asked, eyeing Lily with concern.
“I’m fine. What do you two think about going out to the lake today? Brigit mentioned we should bond a bit,” Lily said, steering the subject away from her mortifying experience with mind magic.
“I’m in,” Sara said, wrapping her hands around a mug of tea Aoife placed in front of her.
Lily looked at Evelyn and was shocked to see something akin to shyness in her eyes. Or maybe she was still half asleep; it was hard to tell.
“Sure,” Evelyn said with a shrug.
“Great. How about we head down after breakfast and showers? Does that work with your plans to brief us, Aoife? Gwenn?”
“Sounds grand,” Aoife said, her head bobbing to a beat only she could hear as she chopped a scallion into irregularly sized chunks. “Mary’s organizing and going over the majority of her papers at home. She did most of the research, and that’s quite a large job. She won’t be here before three. We’ll have our chat, relax, and eat supper. From there it’s down to waiting for the moon to show herself.”
Conversation slowed to a lull as Aoife and Gwenn set plates of fluffy omelets,
buttery hash browns, and beans before them. Despite the strangeness of having beans for breakfast, Lily inhaled it all. Not quite Em’s, but pretty good, she thought. I guess when you have magic you can be good at anything you like. Shit, why not abracadabra and take over the world?
Gwenn chuckled, earning her a pointed glare from Aoife.
“What’s funny?” Sara asked.
“Oh, only thinking to meself,” Gwenn said glancing sheepishly at Lily.
“Lily, if you’re done, why don’t you take the first bath? There are a couple hair dryers under the sink. We don’t want you three going out with wet heads now. Mornings here tend to have a nip to them,” Aoife said, scooping up Lily’s empty plate and herding her from the room.
“It was like showering in glacier water,” Evelyn proclaimed, tying a plush scarf over her damp braid as they left the house.
“You can have the first shower next time,” Lily said, hoping to smooth over Evelyn’s sour mood.
The trio trudged to the lake armed with a blanket, a huge thermos full of tea, and a heaping basket of food that Gwenn had thrust upon them despite their protestations they couldn’t eat another bite. Lily relished being outside after the cramped quarters of Fern Cottage. The air was the perfect temperature, punctuated by cool breezes that took her breath away. The small lake lay a quarter mile from the cottage at the edge of the forest. The stretch of land between the lake and Fern Cottage was a rugged mix of tended garden, unmaintained grasses, and a few bushes.
“You’d think they’d do some landscaping out here. At least cut the grass and get rid of these scraggly looking bushes,” Evelyn said, hitting a bush with her hand as she walked by.
“Don’t count on it,” Sara said, her copper eyes glittering in the bright sun. “I bet they’d cut off a finger before cutting a fairy bush down.”
“Fairy bushes?” Evelyn asked, her eyes wide. “You are joking, right? Adults don’t believe in fairies!”
“Like they don’t believe in witches?” Sara said, half her lip curved up in a lopsided smile. “Like Brigit said, the Irish are cautious about their superstitions. A lot of them wouldn’t admit it outright, but yeah, they believe in fairies.”
