I nodded. He was definitely blocking the way so I couldn’t continue along that fork in the road. “Who are you?” I asked.
“The Crow Man. I did not summon you. Turn around while you can.” And with that, he laughed, and I saw a figure behind him, translucent, almost like a specter—a woman in black leather, with feathers in her hair and a skull around her neck, and two crows sat on her shoulders.
My stomach twisted and I backed away, instinct taking over. She was a goddess, but she was not my goddess. “Who…who…” I asked, as I stepped back, almost tripping over a root.
“My Mistress is the Morrígan,” the Crow Man said. “While you speak with the dead, you are not a spirit shaman, and she is not for you.”
“Spirit shaman,” I whispered. My friend Peggin, who lived in Whisper Hollow, had a best friend who was a spirit shaman.
A bright flash stopped my train of thought, and I found myself back on the main trail, facing the right-hand fork. There, near the front of the trailhead, was a lithe young woman, wearing a diaphanous green dress dappled with sparkles of gold. She wore an oak-leaf crown on her head, and in one hand, she carried a staff made of holly, with holly berries and leaves wrapped around the top. In the other hand, she held a sword, with a hilt fashioned of antler.
“Follow me,” the woman said.
Once again, instinct took over and I stepped onto the right fork. The woman was no less intimidating than the Crow Man, but she didn’t frighten me as much—and it felt natural to follow her.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
She glanced back over her shoulder. “I’m the Forest Daughter. I stand on the fulcrum between light and dark, between dark and light. I embody the zenith of the oak on Midsummer’s Day, and the zenith of the holly on Midwinter’s Day. I foretell the coming of Druantia, goddess of the land, she who holds the keys to Sovereignty.”
Druantia…of course.
Druantia was the goddess to whom Teran had pledged me when I was young and in danger from a shadow man. I had been marked by both the shadow man—as prey, and by Druantia—as hers. Recently, after finding out about the incident with the shadow man (I had totally forgotten all about it), I chose to pledge myself to her again, this time by choice.
She was a goddess of the land, of birth and of death, of immortality and reincarnation. She was the goddess of the Celtic ogham—both a language and a system of divination—and she was the muse of writers, witches, and healers.
The Forest Daughter led me deeper into the woods. Unlike the Crow Man’s side of the path, here the forest felt welcoming, as though I belonged here. I followed until we came to a clearing where a small grotto beckoned. The pool was about four yards in diameter, lined with white brick, and the water shimmered, a beautiful teal, with the dancing shadows of leaves playing over the surface.
A bench sat on the opposite side of the grotto, and moss trailed down from the tree above to brush the surface. Near the bench, I saw a skunk with four babies, standing next to a large ring of fly agarics. The toadstools reminded me that I still had protection water to make. I made a mental note to start work on that as soon as possible.
On the other side of the bench, a large deer peered through the foliage. She was beautiful, stately, and regal. And next to her, coiled at her feet, was a snake. I wasn’t sure if it was poisonous, though it had the typical “V” shape on its head that most pit vipers have. The snake was about two feet long and along the back, it was black, with a white zebra pattern.
Then the earth trembled and one of the smaller oak trees near the grotto began to shift and transform. It uprooted itself, whirling in the air, its boughs sending a spray of autumn leaves everywhere. As it spun, the tree transformed: first tree, then woman, then tree again, and finally, it settled onto the forest floor, transformed into the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and yet, I knew who she was.
With burgundy hair, antlers sprang from her head. Cloaked in a dress made of orange and gold and rust leaves, the goddess shimmered with an ethereal glow that engulfed her, a pale aura of green and gold. Druantia.
Lady.
She nodded, raising her hand. January, winter’s child. What leads you to me today?
I don’t really know. Xi…my familiar…triggered this journey.
She knows what you need. You are in a battle right now that you don’t understand. Walk carefully. Remember, you are marked by one of the shadow men and while my mark can help protect you, it cannot save you from all of their attacks.
I took a deep breath and settled down on the bench. The skunk brought over her babies and I picked one of them up before realizing what I was doing. But the little creature didn’t spray me. Instead, it snuggled in my arms and I stroked its back lightly.
Is that what I’m facing? A shadow man?
Not exactly, but close enough to tap into your energy. The ghost wears a suit and mask. Look below the surface. Look behind the obvious. Like all of the gods, I cannot give you the answers, but I can offer you a trail of breadcrumbs to follow.
I thought about what she said, then about the past few months. I had been learning about my magic, but slowly. My talk with Rowan had jogged me into realizing how much I needed a structured approach.
Do you object to my grandmother teaching me more about my magical line?
Your grandmother does not walk my path, but as long as you understand that what is hers, is hers, and what is yours, is mine, then I have no objections. She’s a powerful witch—one of the most powerful I have met, but you have so much more potential. Begin walking in the Mystic Wood daily. Watch your step, of course, and be careful, but you must thoroughly understand the magic of the forest if you are to know me. And do not despair. The magic of the water will always be connected because water keeps the forest alive.
I blinked, at first wondering what she was talking about, then I remembered my response to the bay the night before. Thank you. Do you have any other advice or instructions for me?
If you look to the roots of your problem, you will find the explanation you seek.
The scene around me felt like it was starting to withdraw, fading into the distance just a little. Wait! Before you go…the Mystic Wood, the imp living there told me something dangerous has come to the forest—was she correct?
Yes, which is why I advise caution. There is a dangerous entity in the Mystic Wood, unaligned with shadow men and their kin. It has the power to throw the balance out of alignment. There are old spells that can help—look to the women of the past. Look to the Lorekeepers for help.
And then, before I could ask another question, Druantia withdrew, but I felt her brush my cheek with her hand before she went, and her touch was soft and soothing, leaving me with a sense of control and power that I had been seriously missing.
I opened my eyes and found myself petting both Xi and Klaus. A glance at the clock told me I had been in trance for over an hour. Shaking my head, I felt dizzy and I was hungry. Everything I had eaten for breakfast had vanished, so before leaving for City Central, I made myself a ham and cheese sandwich and recorded the vision quest in my book of shadows before I forgot it.
Chapter Ten
Downtown Moonshadow Bay was busy. The sky was overcast and filled with moisture, but the rains had yet to start. Shoppers were bustling along the sidewalks, hoping to beat the storm. Tree-lined streets glowed with the changing colors of the leaves, and as the wind picked up, it sent some of them spiraling off their boughs, spinning topsy-turvy along the road.
City Central was also busy—at least the courthouse seemed full when I passed it in the hallway. The double doors leading into the courthouse were made of bullet-proof glass, and I noticed guards manning the doors. The hallway by the reception desk was bustling.
I passed the courthouse and came to the Inspections Office. This was the department I needed. The reception area was small, but I could see a number of people at their desks behind the counter. I approached the clerk who manned the counter. She was tapping aw
ay at her keyboard, so I waited to speak until she looked over from her screen.
“May I help you?” She straightened the pen jar, and the various clipboards on the counter. She didn’t look at me.
“I’d like to request the blueprints to my house.” I mentally crossed my fingers.
“You’ll have to fill out form 110-245-35. One moment, please.” Without waiting for a response she bent and I heard a drawer slide out. She probably had a lateral filing cabinet below the counter. When she popped back up, she was holding a piece of paper. She fastened it to one of the waiting empty clipboards, motioned to the pen jar, and then to one of the three chairs at the end of the counter. “Please fill out this form and we’ll search for them. If we find them, you’ll have to pay a fee of $25 for a copy.”
“That’s fine. How long will the search take?”
She worried her lip, then said, “It can take anywhere from twenty-four hours to two weeks, depending whether they’re here, easy to find, or archived. Time frame is also dependent on how many requests we have ahead of you. I think you’ll be looking at about one to two days, max.”
“Thank you,” I said, carrying the clipboard over to the chair she had indicated. I filled out the information—my name, my status regarding the property, address, and phone number. When it came to “Reason for blueprints request,” I decided to fudge. I couldn’t put down To explore hidden rooms filled with ghosts, so I wrote Looking at further renovations. And right then, it occurred to me that the contractor might have a copy. In fact, for the renovations he had carried out, it was almost assured.
I pulled out my phone and called him.
Jim Lark, of Lark ‘n Sons Contracting, answered on the second ring. “Hey, January, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, but I was wondering—did you by chance get any of the blueprints to my house? And if so, can I drop over and pick them up? I’ll bring them back if you need.”
I could hear the wheels turning in his head. “What are you looking for? Did we make a mistake?”
“No, no. I’m just curious as to how the house was laid out originally.”
He still sounded on the suspicious side but said, “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be at the office for another hour, if you can drop by during that time.”
“I’ll be over in a few minutes. Thanks.” I took the application and ripped it up. When I looked for the clerk to give her back the empty clipboard, she was nowhere to be seen so I set it on the counter and hurried out the door.
* * *
Lark ‘n Sons Contracting was three streets down, headquartered in an old brick walkup. Moonshadow Bay had a lot of those, and most had been converted to make them handicapped accessible. The walkup was four stories high, but an elevator had been installed, and the doors quietly swished shut behind me as I entered the car.
The only office on the fourth floor was Jim’s, and the elevator opened directly into it. I entered the reception area and waved at Gail, his secretary. We had gotten acquainted during the renovation period.
“January,” she said, a broad smile spreading across her face. She was in her mid-thirties and as far as I knew, she was married to one of Jim’s sons, of the ‘n Sons part of the business.
“Hey, I called Jim about ten minutes ago. Is he still here?”
“He is. Let me tell him you’re here.” She picked up the phone and punched a button. “January Jaxson is here to see you… All right, thank you.” She turned back to me. “Jim said to take a seat and he’ll be out in a moment.”
I sat down in the loveseat that was closest to the desk. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” she said, bobbing her curly mane of blond locks. She had what I jokingly referred to as “poodle hair”…those tightly woven curls that hung down to skim her shoulder tops. There were very few people born with hair so perfectly curly and coiffed, and I assumed a permanent was involved, but either way, her hair was meticulously groomed. Gail followed through with a neat blue blouse, tucked into a pair of linen trousers. Her nails were manicured, her makeup was expertly done, and she was neat, trim, and polished.
“Actually, I’m going on leave in a few weeks,” she said.
“Oh? You going on vacation?”
She shook her head. “I just found out I’m about five weeks pregnant and I’d like to spend some time to myself before I get too far along to do the things I want to do. The guys can find a replacement for me without much problem, so I will be bowing out in about two weeks.”
“Well…congratulations,” I said. Whenever anybody told me they were pregnant, I wasn’t sure what to say. I usually left it at “Congratulations” and changed the subject. I wasn’t really interested in children, I had no clue how to interact with them, and the biological clock thing women talked about had never been an issue for me. I had no idea if that would change, given my lifespan would be a lot longer than the average human.
Though it suddenly occurred to me that Killian and I’d better have a discussion about expectations, before either of us got too emotionally invested. I loved him, and the thought of breaking up with him made my stomach hurt, but we were still at a point where we could move on without too much pain. Although, living next door to him, if we did ever break up, would be uncomfortable.
I was deep into thought about the issue when Jim’s door opened and he peeked out, a long tube of paper in his hand.
“Hey, January, here you go. Please drop them back here when you’re done with them. These are copies of the originals, and I included the ones done after your parents renovated. I didn’t include the current ones, though I can, if you like—the ones we drew up for the reno.” He held out the tube. “I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but I have a meeting in ten minutes and I have to haul ass downtown.”
I took the tube. “These are fine. Thanks, and I’ll return them as soon as I can. Take care!” I turned to leave, then paused to add, “Bye, Gail. I hope everything goes well!”
On my way back to my car, I caught sight of the Spit & Whistle. I decided to duck inside and see how Louise was doing. As I entered the pub, I paused, reaching out. Everything felt clean and clear. We had managed to kick out all of the nasty creatures who had made themselves at home, and now the restaurant felt welcoming and cozy.
Louise was behind the counter, talking to Sal—the cook who worked the first shift—Rony, one of the waitresses, and Jim, the bartender. She glanced up as the bells chimed when I opened the door and a smile blazed across her face.
“January, it’s good to see you! Would you like a cup of coffee?”
I laughed. “I never say no to coffee. I’d love one. A doughnut too, or pie if you have it.”
“We have apple pie and pumpkin spice doughnuts. Which would you prefer?” She motioned to the display trays on the counter. They were the old-fashioned cake stands, with high-domed acrylic covers. On one of the stands sat a thick pie with a golden crust. On another was a stack of various doughnuts, some iced, some plain, some sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar.
“That’s a hard choice. I’ll take a piece of pie, and then two of the pumpkin spice doughnuts to go.” I settled on one of the bar stools and accepted the coffee. She handed me the cream and sugar and I poured enough cream in to turn the deep rich black liquid into a creamy beige. I added one packet of sugar, and then bit into the pie, which smelled and tasted like autumn.
“Granny Smith and…Jonagold?” I asked. I loved apples and could usually tell by taste which varieties were in pies and crumbles.
She nodded. “Sal here makes them. The best in town!”
I nodded to Sal, who blushed. He was a wolf shifter, but he was a beta in his pack and was a shy, quiet man.
“This is really good, Sal. You have quite a talent.” I glanced at Louise. “I didn’t mean to interrupt a meeting.”
“No, not a problem. We were just finishing up. So, how have you been?” Louise came around the counter and motioned for me to follow her over to a booth.
“Okay, I’m dealing wi
th a nasty haunting of my own, now. In my house. Same thing as happened here in terms of sparking it off. Renovations. It just started a few days ago and we’re in the middle of trying to figure out what went on and why.” I forked another bite of the pie.
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you were able to shut down the haunting here. Honestly, I was terrified I’d have to sell at a loss and there would go my dream—and savings—down the drain. So a thousand thank-yous.” She glanced up as a large party entered the restaurant. “Oops, duty calls, so I’ll have to go, but take your time and I’ll get your doughnuts ready. This is on the house. All your dinners will be on the house.”
As Louise headed over to help the group of diners, I finished my pie and slurped down my coffee. I needed to get to work. Rony dropped off a bag that looked too big for just two doughnuts, but I grabbed it and ran, waving behind me. Regardless of whether it was on the house, I left a healthy tip under my cup.
As I broke out into the bright autumn day, my heart lifted. People like Louise made what I did seem important, and I was grateful that I could help them in whatever way I could. As I headed to work, the clouds started to sock in, but I didn’t care. I loved the rain and the breezy autumn chill and the smell of woodsmoke in the air.
* * *
Before I headed into the office, I peeked in the bag that Rony had given me. There were a dozen doughnuts there, of various kinds.
“Oh Louise, you’re too generous,” I said aloud, shaking my head. I carried the bag inside to share with the office, and saw that Wren was there today. “Hey, Wren, how are you doing? How’s Walter?”
She gave me a tired smile. “I’m all right. Walt’s…well…he’s maintaining. He’s trying to be positive. It looks like his MS isn’t progressing terribly quickly, but he has to find a different job. He can’t keep up the pace he does now. The work is too physically demanding for him already.”
Harvest Web: A Moonshadow Bay Novel, Book 4 Page 11
