by Freya Darcy
Small leafy trees line a white stone path and the walls are covered with flowering vines and the whole garden is lit by moon and starlight. It’s like a miniature version of the woods that surround the town only high and hidden and safe.
“This is amazing!” Jaz squeals as she swings from one tree to another. “I have bonded with many witches but none of them created anything like this. Your aunt was something special.”
I feel tears stinging my eyes and blink them away. She was special, both my aunts were gentle loving women. It makes my chest hurt to think of them being forced to hide this wonderful part of themselves.
“This place is old,” Jaz feels the trunk of one of the small trees then drops to the grassy ground. “And powerful. No wonder I could sense this place so clearly.” She starts down the path. “Come on, I think the alter is this way.”
“Just follow the marble brick path?” I say, feeling giddy as I follow my familiar.
Up ahead I hear her singing the song from the Wizard of Oz and join in as we follow the path through the garden, around trees and bushes, past a pretty little sitting area complete with koi pond, then into a tunnel of thick trees and shrubs till we emerge out into the Circle.
I call it the Circle because it’s literally a circle of glowing stones and rock salt. In the middle there is what looks like almost a scientific workshop. Long thick wooden table, a large cauldron propped above a stone base covered in sticks and logs.
“This, my friend, is your very own Craft space. It looks like we can make potions, practice spells, honour the moon and any gods or goddesses you want to follow.”
“This is real,” I say. “I mean this is really real. This is actually happening.”
Jaz hangs from a high perch that might have once been for a cat. “Would you like me to pinch you?”
“Not yet.” I grin at her. “I don’t know where to start. Is this a spell book.”
I run to the podium and just place my hands on the hard cover of a thick old book.
BOOK OF SHADOWS
“Can I turn people into toads? Can I make my butt look smaller? Wait, what language is this?”
“Okay, slow down Glenda.” Jaz webs lower. “Magic is no game, it’s not some toy.”
“I know, I know.”
Jaz waggles a leg at me. “And for the record, yes, you can make your butt look smaller. But it would be purely cosmetic. If you really want a smaller bottom, you’ll need to cut down on the carbs.”
“I choose death.” I’m not even joking.
“Well, first things first,” Jaz says and starts shooting and spinning more webbing.
As I watch, she lunges and swings from one perch to another weaving the thread into an intricate hammock. But as I watch I realize that it’s not so much a hammock as a swing, like one of those garden swings only made of glistening webbing that sparkles in the moonlight.
“Ooh pretty! I want a swing.”
Holding the sides she swings lazily. “If you want one you’ll need to make it yourself. It should be possible here.”
“You mean witches can shoot webbing?”
I hold my hands out and make a HEEYAA sound. No webbing comes out. I guess I’m not really that surprised.
Jaz looks up at the stars. “Goddess Freya, save me from the noobs.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “This is just new and exciting. I believed you when you said I was a witch, I mean you are a talking spider so that’s pretty compelling evidence, but...” I wave my hands around at the circle.
“Let’s start with some breathing, shall we?” Jaz says in a forced calm voice. “We have a lot to become familiar with tonight.”
“I’m calm and I’m ready to learn.”
She doesn’t look convinced but continues all the same. “This, as you may have guessed, is the Circle.”
“What’s with the salt. Is it a protection thing like in Supernatural?”
“Close. Yes, the salt is for protection but it’s more than that.” She swings thoughtfully for a moment. “Magic is everywhere, all the time but in the world, it’s diluted, spread thin.”
“So, it’s like air?”
“More like electricity. An energy that flows through everything and everyone all the time. In the modern world you use wires to send electricity where you want it to go or to draw it in. You use batteries to hold it. Are you following?”
“Umm.”
“Yeah, analogies aren’t really my thing. You know what forget the explanations. Step into the Circle and sit cross-legged on the ground.”
Shrugging, I do as instructed.
“Now, look around at the Circle of salt and stones. As long as you are inside this Circle you’re safe from any hexes or curses or other magical ills. That includes demonic beings and ghosts.”
“Safe from demons, gotcha.”
“It’s important that you both understand and believe that you are protected by the circle when you are within it, even if you aren’t working magic.”
“So it’s like a mind over matter thing?”
“A witch’s mind is her strongest tool and defence.”
“I’m safe from dark forces while I stay within the circle,” I say, mostly to myself but there is a sort of crackling feeling that comes with the words, a tingling in my fingers and an itch on the end of my nose.
“Now in order to work magic, you need to be able to draw and hold energies as well as keep hold of your own. The salt helps you do that. Some witches don’t need it anymore after a while and can perform basic spells easily without it. But magic is always stronger and easier to control when there is a circle of salt. Also, it’s kind of traditional.”
“I’m ready.”
“Close your eyes and breathe. In time you’ll be able to do this quickly, but for now just relax and let your magic feel it’s way. Now visualize that the circle is in fact a big, shimmering bubble. Encasing you, protecting you.”
Imagining a bubble feels wrong somehow. I imagine it growing but each time, it pops. Okay, so that isn’t for me. I try focusing on the circle itself. In my mind I follow the line of rocks and salt as it curls around me and meets with itself. I follow the path again and again. In my vision I see it flowing beneath me, faster and faster, and as I circle, I feel myself lifting higher and higher.
My eyes pop open and I feel it.
“Wow,” Jaz says.
“Wow.” I can’t help grinning up at her.
I can feel the circle now. I mean, I sort of could before, but it’s active now, alive. Jaz had used a bubble analogy, but for me it feels more like a water tank or a grain silo. High strong walls but open at the top much like the garden.
“Let’s start with some elemental magic. Do you want to try lighting the candle?”
“Sure, where are the matches?”
“Are you kidding?”
I poke my tongue at her because I wasn’t but I’m new at this, so I think I’m allowed a few habitual mistakes. “Okay, so how do I do that? Is there a magic word, some kind of swish and flick hand gesture?”
“The magic comes from you. Some witches use words, others use hand gestures.”
“Helpful.” Rolling my eyes, I stare at the candle and imagine it lighting as I did when creating the circle. Nothing happens.
I shut my eyes and imagined it lit.
Open my eyes. Nothing.
“It’s okay,” Jaz says. “Don’t force it, and don’t worry if you don’t get it tonight.”
I don’t like the sympathy in her tone. “I’ll get it, just give me a minute.”
Glaring at the candle I feel something stirring behind my eyes.
“Light,” I say and click my fingers.
Flame sparks at the wick and it lights.
Jaz stares down at me for a moment.
“Ta-da?” I say, not sure why she’s just sitting there.
“You were angry.”
“I don’t like being pitied or patronized. But I wasn’t angry.”
“You need t
o be careful. Your magic comes from you, and your emotions govern how you wield it. Anger is an easy one because it burns hot and fast. But it’s also dangerous because it’s the hardest to control. Where you draw your magic is as important as how you use it.”
“Okay, okay, let me try again.” I blow out the candle. “Now, happy thoughts. Puppies, kittens, hidden magical gardens.”
I focus on the candle. “Light,” I say and click my fingers again.
The tip smokes and there’s a little red spark but then nothing.
“That’s good,” Jaz says. “Using positive emotions is harder at first, but stronger overall and easier to control. Close your eyes and visualize the flame, then try again.”
I do as I’m told, closing my eyes, picturing the candle lit, imagining it’s warmth. Then I feel it, that familiar warmth behind my eyes.
“Light.” I click my fingers and the candle lights with a WOOSH.
The second is easier and the third, I don’t even have to click, I just point and it flickers to life.
This is real.
I’m a witch!
“Oh my Goddess! I never need to buy matches again!”
“Ah, no. Sorry,” Jaz says. “If magic was that easy, it would be mainstream. It’s easy here because we’re in the circle, the magical energy is concentrated and amplified here. You should be able to perform basic spells if you can create a salt circle, but even then it’s going to take time to control. You don’t want to end up burning down the whole house.”
“But if I can only use it in the circle, what’s the point? It’s kind of like how I have an awesome singing voice in the shower but the moment I step outside it’s like listening to two dudes slapping a tone-deaf pig.”
Jaz blinks at me. “I’m going to leave that one alone. We’ll get to ritual and preparation later. For the record, it’s in the rituals and potions that the real power lies. Right now, you’re just learning what your magic feels like when it’s alive and charged.”
I flex my fingers and smile. My whole body feels alive. I can hear my heart beating, I can feel my magic pulsing through my veins, stretching, feeling it’s way around this new vessel.
“Okay, how about we move onto water,” Jaz says. “Do you want to try filling that glass?”
I almost look around for a tap but then remember why we’re here. “Okay, so the same as I did for the candle?”
“Imagine water, the coolness, where it comes from. Don’t over think it, just let your instincts guide you. Hand gestures combined with words seem to work well for you so try that.”
Shutting my eyes, I imagine the sea behind the mansion, beneath the cliffs. I see it smashing against the rocks, retreating into the dark depths.
Something tingles and warms in my hands and I whisper, “Water.”
I let out a delighted laugh as the glass fills before my eyes. But wait. It doesn’t look right. The water is kind of cloudy with sediment floating in it.
“Oh!” Jaz says. “I forgot to mention, you have to be careful where you draw your water. You thought about sea water, right?”
I nod with a sheepish smile.
“Try again, this time imagine the rain or a mountain spring.”
I do and in my mind’s eye I remember a night back when I was a child. Unable to sleep I’d sat on the windowsill staring out at the lightning and the rain. Aunt Harriet had been standing out in the downpour, arms outstretched, and head tipped back, laughing but also crying.
There’s a crack overhead and I look up to see that the stars are gone, replaced by looming black clouds. Another CRACK and a flash and it’s like the sky opens up and it’s suddenly pouring rain!
“What did you do?” Jaz yells, desperately trying to cling to her now slippery swing. “I told you to fill the glass, not the whole attic!”
Laughing, I point to the glass, which is in fact full. “I did it though, right?”
“That’s great.” Jaz is now hanging under her swing, looking like a very wet and disgruntled spider. She has to yell to be heard over the rain and thunder. “We’re all proud of you. Now shut it off!”
Shutting my eyes, I smile up at the rain for another moment, feeling the cold droplets on my face and eyelashes. Power radiates through my whole body, making my fingertips tingle. All this time I thought I was nothing. It was like the whole world was going above and beyond to tell me how small and insignificant I was. But not anymore.
The rain gets harder and the thunder is almost deafening. Lightening flashes so bright it’s like daylight and then—
I’m back in the dream from the night I arrived. Running through the trees as the rain pelts down through the leaves and branches.
Why am I running? Why was she running? Running from who?
I feel the confusion and intense fear flooding my entire body.
“Kizz!”
I see the strange objects hanging from the trees like Christmas ornaments. Ribbons, bells, burned hanging dolls, and finally mirrors. What does it all mean?
“KIZZ!”
My eyes flash open to see Jaz right in my face.
“Shut it down!” She yells.
I can’t! Not now. I’m on the verge of something. Something important. I don’t know what exactly but if I stop now...
Water splashes against my calves and my eyes widen. “Oh!”
“Yeah,” Jaz snaps. “So, unless you want to drown up here...”
I shut my eyes again and visualize the sky clear, dark, and starlit, the way it had been when I started. Slowly the thunder grows softer and I feel my power waning.
Jaz climbs back up to her swing and spends some time fixing it up before shaking the excess water off each of her long spider legs. I’m not certain but I think she’s doing that silent count to ten we all learn to do in order to not yell and rant when we’re angry.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Oh, I know what happened,” Jaz returns, her tone still sharp. “You got power drunk. There is no way your aunt didn’t sense your power. She should have started your training a long time ago. Now you’re wielding a massive amount of magic but you know nothing. You’re like a kid with a handgun.”
“Hey!” My own temper spikes now. “Look, I’m sorry okay? I’ve never felt anything like that before and yeah, I overdid it a little. And I’m sorry.”
Ouch, my head hurts. Taking a seat, I rub at my temples.
“No,” Jaz sighs and lowers herself to the table so she’s standing in front of me. “I’m sorry. You’re new to all this and I’m supposed to be teaching you, not just yelling at you when you do something wrong.”
I blow out a breath and run a hand down my face. “I knew I wasn’t in control. I could feel it. But there was something else. It’s like the magic was trying to tell me something or show me something.”
Jaz nods slowly. “You said you dream the present right? That’s your gift?” When I nod, she says, “So maybe it was. You said your dream was different, more dreamlike. That might be because your gift is stronger now.”
“It was like I was in her head as she was running through the forest. She was so angry and hurt and scared and when she saw the ladder and the noose...” I cut off because I can’t voice the intense feeling of relief that she felt, we felt climbing that ladder.
“But she was alone?” Jaz asks, her tone gentler now.
“Yeah. But if she killed herself, who took the ladder? Why hang a noose somewhere in the forest then run around before finally — you know. None of it makes any sense and since I don’t know anything about her it makes even less sense.”
“Maybe she was just crazy or on drugs. If your dream took you right into her head, that might explain why it was so surreal.”
“What if with my power comes responsibility?”
“Like in Spiderman?”
“Yeah, but if Spiderman was an untrained witch with a spider sidekick.”
“Ahem,” Jaz bristles. “I prefer the term familia
r. And what are you talking about?”
“You tell me, you’re the expert,” I say with a shrug. “In the TV shows there’s always a character who gets visions or calls to action on whatever weekly monster they need to battle.”
“So, you’re thinking that maybe since you accepted your powers, you were also given some grand mission.”
“Well,” I say, flushing and a bit embarrassed. “Not a grand mission, but what if my dreams point me towards people I need to help — or something. I feel like what happened a moment ago, was my magic or whatever nudging me to get off my butt and get to work.”
“I have some bad news about that dream.”
“I know, she’s already dead,” I snap impatiently. “But what if someone helped her die? I mean I saw her kill herself but what if she was pushed to it? That person might never be brought to justice.”
“Karma.” Jaz eyes me.
“Karma?” I prompt. “Like justice dealing magic?”
“Usually karma takes care of itself, but I guess it could be part of your gift. If you dream the present maybe you’re supposed to also deal out justice.”
I’m not convinced. “Sounds a little too comic book. Not that the name Karma Witch doesn’t have a shine to it.”
I think for a little longer. “I guess my first step should be information gathering. I don’t know anything about Meghan or the people around her. Maybe if I learn more, the dream will start to make more sense?”
The spider shrugs. “I guess.”
“I thought you were supposed to be the expert on all this.”
“I’m your familiar and am schooled in the craft of magic, but witches individual gifts are kind of like super powers. It’s more personal and so harder to—” she waves her hand as though trying to find the right word. “Know.”
“Useful.” Rolling my eyes, I jump to my feet.
It’s a mistake.
“Kizz?” Jaz hangs down in front of my face, her expression concerned. “Kismet, are you—”
Her voice fades like she’s moving far away, but I wave my hand at her. “I’m fine. I just need to...”
Everything fades to fuzzy grey then—
Chapter Seven
BANG! BANG! CRACK.
