"I can't guarantee that the Council will allow it but I promise to ask them for a special favor. Will that work?" Helen felt the old witch's beady eyes burrowing into her.
"Fair enough. Not like I can't find you if you cheat me. Ha!" Naomi's gruff laugh echoed from the doorway. Helen and Frankie exchanged looks but Helen gave the nod and Frankie stepped into the dark cabin.
The smell of woodsmoke was palpable. Even closing in on May, the old Franklin cast iron stove cranked heat from the corner. There were a few lamps tucked near the sloping walls - proving that the cabin actually had electricity. Beyond that, there weren't many creature comforts.
"Alrighty, let's get to it. I don't have all day to lallygag. What's the situation?" Naomi sat on a wooden chair, gesturing to the pair to do the same.
"Yesterday, our friend became ill but we think it is a curse because she has this strange yellow aura. She is getting weaker and weaker and her familiar is acting strange as well - he interrupted our circle when we were scrying for answers. We can't identify the curse to try to counteract it." Helen perched lightly on the edge of the chair as she spoke.
"That's the trouble with so-called 'witches' today. They don't know hexes from hemorrhoids. Ha!" Naomi stood up and padded over to a full bookshelf near an old recliner. The books were in various stages of decay and she picked up a fat volume that looked to be the oldest of the bunch. Turning back toward the pair, she thumbed through the old pages.
"As it happens, I have a very old and very rare library. Handed down to me by my Gran and by her Gran before her. These books contain more knowledge than the whole darn computer web thing. If it is a curse, it's here." Naomi came back to her seat, flipping furiously as she went.
"Yellow aura, you say? That's peculiar. Has she lost her ability to speak?" Helen shook her head at the old woman.
"Hmmm, not a binding curse then. Is she hot to the touch by chance?" This time Frankie shook her head.
"Not a passion curse if there is no heat. Tricky. Very tricky. This might take me a bit to figure it out. You leave and I'll call you when I have something." Naomi stood again, signaling that the visit was over. It surprised Helen to hear she had a phone.
"Write your number down and I'll call you from town. I should know something tonight, or maybe tomorrow. Let's hope she isn't dead by then." Naomi held the door and snatched Frankie's number from her fingers. The door slammed behind them.
"Well, that was fun." Frankie said as they stepped from the old witch's porch.
"I guess she doesn't have a phone after all."
Potions
Mel didn't have to drive much as a student at the University of Washington. She had her apartment near campus and she walked everywhere she needed to go in Seattle. But to get to Enumclaw to check on Diedre, she needed a car. Fortunately, her brother had upgraded his ride in March and the trade-in value wasn't enough on his old Ford Escort to make it worthwhile. He sold it to Mel for five hundred dollars. Most days it was parked on the street, gathering pollen and bird droppings from seagulls. Today, it was pulling into Diedre's driveway.
Of all the Coven members, Mel probably felt closest to Diedre. Diedre had found the antidote to the potion that had poisoned Hedy's friend, Louis, and she had saved him. After the Coven had dealt with the traitor in their midst, Diedre had rallied the group and brought their focus back to preparing for the upcoming Festival. Helen was the leader of the Coven but Diedre was its heart.
Mel knocked on the door and she heard movement inside. Heavy footsteps were coming. The door swung wide and Darro was there, looking gravely worried.
"Ah, lass, it is good to see ye. Come in. Ye came all the way from Seattle? Diedre would be pleased to know that." He gave Mel an awkward hug and she followed him into the small house. The TV had pro-wrestling on, though the volume was on mute. Ever since meeting him last autumn, the Scottish man was always full of surprises.
"Where is she?" Mel asked, setting down her coat and purse. From the look of Darro's red eyes, he had been crying.
"She's in bed. Been there since last night. Hasn't stirred a lick. Jinx is by her side, and no one can hardly get near her. Damn cat seems to have gone mad." Darro led Mel down the small hallway to the closed door on the right. He opened the bedroom to reveal Diedre appearing to be asleep with her cat sitting on her chest, watching them.
Mel entered the bedroom and a low hiss came from Jinx. Keeping her distance from his reach, she stepped just close enough to the bed to get a look at Diedre in the low light. In the dimness, Mel could see a yellow pall on Diedre's face. Her breathing was ragged and shallow.
"Darro, she doesn't look good. Has she seen a doctor?" Mel had only been in the Coven since January and magical causes weren't her first thought. Diedre looked sick, sick enough to need a doctor right away.
"Helen said she might have an answer this morning as to what is happening, but Frankie texted to say they didn't know anything yet. I was just about to try to gather her up and take her to St. Elizabeth's in Enumclaw. No doubt that cat will shred me up in the process."
"Maybe I can help with Jinx. Or at least help distract him while you lift up Diedre. I know Helen thinks it is some kind of curse but I would feel better if we got a doctor to look at her." Mel saw a thick shawl draped across a small chair and she grabbed it to help protect herself from Jinx's claws.
"Jinx, sweetie. We are going to try to help Diedre. Be calm, okay?" Mel cooed, quickly tossing the shawl over the growling cat. She scooped him up, trying to hold the claw end of him away from her body. He was writhing and hissing like a madman. Darro moved with surprising agility and had Diedre in his arms in a matter of moments. Mel set the cat back down on the bed and pulled off the shawl.
"I'll follow you to the hospital." Mel said over the roaring protests of the familiar.
It was Kat's day off from the bookstore. She loved working for Mike and Susan at The Sequel and the shop felt like a second home to her, so it wasn't unusual for her to find herself browsing there on her day off, curling up with a book before heading over to The Vault for her favorite plate of meatloaf. Today though, she was on her laptop in the coffee shop, researching witch curses.
Helen had texted the Coven on her progress - or lack thereof - of finding the curse. The last update from her was a field trip out to Wilkeson to ask a banished witch to help them out. Kat didn't like the sound of that one bit. Why would some stranger, a witch banished for casting curses, help them out anyway? It seemed like grasping at straws. Kat decided she'd put her skills to use and do some research on her own. She hoped Helen would appreciate the initiative. She had only just graduated from initiate to full-fledged witch; she didn't even have her own familiar yet. She might be just a novice witch, but she knew how to search online.
The Percolator was a quaint coffee shop with a bit of hardware and eclectic wares scattered around the space. Kat was set up near the front window but she made sure her body blocked the view of her screen. She didn't need any passers-by seeing what she was researching. Enumclaw was small enough that news of curses would spread like wildfire.
"Hey Kat, what're you doing here?" Jimmy called out to her as he entered the shop. They'd been friends since high school. Now, in their twenties, Jimmy had come back to Enumclaw after finishing college. He worked for the Enumclaw Courier-Herald.
"Oh, goofing a bit on the Internet, no biggie. It's my day off and I figured I'd give Mike and Susan a break from having me underfoot." Jimmy gave her a nod and went to the counter to place his order. Odds are he would be back over at her table with his chai latte and she'd have to put away her research. A thought came to her then, so crazy she almost laughed out loud. No, it was too crazy. She couldn't. Could she?
"So what's new, Kitty Kat?" Jimmy had his chai and took his seat at the small table. It looked like he was working on a goatee but his dark hair was faint and scraggly.
"Jimmy. I gotta ask you something. As a friend. Just as a friend, not as a reporter, okay? Can this be 'off the record
'?" Kat watched his face closely as she spoke, all the while hoping that she wasn't doing something really stupid.
"Of course, Kat, you don't have to ask that. What's going on?"
"So you know that I am a witch. And you know I am in a Coven," Kat paused, taking a sip of her own latte. She needed some courage for the next part.
"Yeah," Jimmy said, clearly waiting for her to continue.
"Well, we think one of the Coven members has been cursed. We don't know by whom and we don't know with what. We are working to figure that out but she is really sick and I could use some help with researching old curses. You are the best researcher I know." Kat finished, expecting to see him laugh at any moment. It had to be the craziest request he had ever received.
"Yeah, of course, you should have asked sooner, Kat. Whatever you need." Without so much as a smirk, Jimmy reached down into his bag and pulled out his laptop. "So, what are we looking for?"
With their errand to Naomi done, Helen and Frankie had the afternoon to fret about Diedre and work on the Festival. Back at Helen's house, the pair sat at her kitchen table and went over Frankie's meticulous checklists. With only two weeks until the Eve of May event, there wasn't much time left if things went awry. Hester silently observed them from her bed, chewing on some timothy hay.
"Okay, let's go through it all and see what is left. I think we are in good shape, more or less, " Frankie said, opening the binder with her slim brown fingers. It was fat with notes and papers, all in color coded sections.
"We have the permit already from Kanaskat-Palmer State Park for the gathering." Frankie ran her blue fingernail down the "green" list, which was facilities-related.
"We have the campgrounds and picnic area all reserved. Only Festival attendees will have a spot."
"That's good. As much as I am for inclusion, camping is best left for participating Covens." Helen said, rising at the sound of the tea kettle's whistle.
"Especially if some of the groups decide to join the circle dances skyclad." Frankie said, chuckling. Even the most progressive hikers might blanch at naked witches dancing in the moonlight.
"The Council's high table and the vendor tents are ordered. Food trucks will be on hand for those who don't want to cook over the fire pits." Frankie continued, as Helen brought the teapot to the table. It was a special blend that Diedre had made for her; as the group herbalist, Diedre had made tailored teas for all the members.
"Any calls come in? Texts?" Helen asked, knowing the answer. They hadn't heard a peep since Mel's text about taking Diedre to the hospital.
"Give the old crone a chance. She'll figure something out. I hope." Frankie replied, though there was doubt in her voice. She flipped the page to the orange tab to go over the plans for spell casting and circles.
"Frankie, I know we have to review all this but my mind isn't on it right now. Maybe I should call Mel..."
The phone startled them both - Frankie had the volume all the way up. The number wasn't one they knew. It could be the hospital or it could be Naomi but Helen was sure it was Naomi.
"Hello? This is Frankie." She mouthed "N-a-o-mi" to Helen and hit the speaker button. The old woman's voice sounded sharp and raspy.
"It took me a bit but I figured it out. I'd say your girl has pissed off someone mightily. There is only one curse I could find that leaves a yellow aura and makes both witch and familiar weak. It is old magic. Really old. Are you listening?"
"Yes, yes, we are here. What is the curse?" Frankie replied, raising her voice to be sure the woman heard her.
"Alrighty. No need to shout at me. I'm not deaf. Anyhow, where was I? Oh yes, the curse...." Naomi paused and it sounded like she was gulping something. "Good beer at this tavern. Mmmm.....The curse is a defexio - a bargain that asks for the harm in exchange for a pledge. They have been used at least since Roman times. This one, the one placed on your friend, is likely one to make her weak - deathly weak - but not kill her. The old Latin would be something like 'bind her breath so she cannot cry out, squeeze her heart so she cannot move', that kind of crap. Too dramatic really. It is designed to make her weak but not kill her. Like I said, old magic." Naomi took another gulp.
"'Likely one?' You don't know for sure?" Helen chimed in, knowing she sounded frustrated but she couldn't help it.
"I wasn't the one who cast it, was I? So I can't say for one hundred percent. But I am darn sure, or sure enough, if you like the sound of that better. Like magic has guarantees. Ha!"
"Okay, how do we counteract it?" Frankie asked, holding up her hand to stop Helen from yelling.
"You don't. Only the one who cast it can do that. Golly, I've forgotten more about spellwork and curses than you two know, apparently. You have to find the witch that cursed her."
"And how do we do that?" Helen asked in a weary voice.
"Lucky for you, magic this old and deep can't be done by many nowadays. I've only met two witches in my life who could do it, well, besides me. One is dead. And the other lives in Seattle. Some lawyer. Name is Morgan. That is all I know. Now keep your end of the bargain." With a final gulp, Naomi hung up the phone.
Spells
Morgan. No last name. No more than that. No problem finding a lawyer named Morgan in the city of Seattle." Frankie said, clearly frustrated with the call. She took a sip of her tea and nodded appreciatively.
"It might not be as hard as we think. If she is a powerful witch, somebody will know of her. We can start checking in the network. Once we know who it is, we'll go to the Council." Hester had hopped over from her bed and nuzzled against Helen's leg. It was clearly time for some snacks.
"We don't want to tip our hand, do we? If we start asking around, no doubt Morgan will know we are onto him or her. We need a better way to find this witch. Anyway, I'm going to text Kat and let her know what we have found out." Frankie picked up her phone and Helen could hear the light tapping of her nails clicking on the glass.
"Okay, let me feed Hester and then we can head over to check on Diedre. Sage will want an update also, so you better text her too. We'll tell Mel in person." Helen took a sip of her own tea and she brushed away the tears that had plagued her all day. They'd figure out a way to help Diedre. They just had to.
"Who's a good bunny? Huh, Hester? Ready for some nom-noms?" Helen squatted down, somewhat awkwardly, to give Hester a pet. She caught Frankie's eye roll on the way down.
"Oh, I've seen you with Stella. You coo over that pot-bellied pig like she is a baby. Don't give me a hard time about Hester."
Kat and Jimmy were scrolling through threads on a witches' comment site called PointyHat when she got the text from Frankie. She bookmarked the site for later. There were some fascinating posts on there.
"Hey, so we have an update. We think the person who cursed Diedre is a lawyer in Seattle named Morgan. We need to find out who exactly, though." Kat said, taking a sip of her second latte. Jimmy was working on his third chai.
"Well, that ought to give us a few leads." Jimmy started typing quickly and Kat scooted over to see what he was doing. Her shoulder brushed up against his flannel shirt.
"The bar association?" Kat asked, watching him type quickly into a search bar.
"Yeah, any lawyer in Washington has to be licensed by the Washington bar. The website lets you search by name. We'll see how many Morgans come up as licensed in Washington and who work in Seattle. That should at least limit the number of searches down somewhat. Aren't you glad you pulled me into this weird escapade?" Jimmy gave her a sly smile and Kat had to admit that she was glad. Trusting Jimmy had been the right call after all.
"Don't give yourself too much praise just yet. Looks like there are about thirty different names on that list. Now what?"
"Well, not to stereotype but I would guess that we are looking for a woman named Morgan. I mean, I guess it could be a man named Morgan but then would we call him a witch or would he be a warlock? You are the expert on that."
"Witch is a gender neutral term. But you are right that the
majority of witches are women, for a whole bunch of reasons. Feel free to write an article on witches and empowerment. You can use me for deep background." Kat said, pulling up her email on the computer.
"Send me a screenshot of those names will you? I'll send it to the group in case someone recognizes someone."
In a minute, the list was in her inbox and she sent it on to her Coven.
"Let's start running searches on these names to see if any hits come up related to witchcraft. If I am a fancy Seattle lawyer, I would guess my online presence is going to be squeaky clean, but you never know. Plus, you have an ace reporter digging for you, so there's that." Jimmy jammed Kat's arm lightly with his own. "But I'm going to need another chai, and you are paying."
St. Elizabeth's hospital on Battersby Avenue was a modern, sleek building, unlike much of Enumclaw. It was still in the downtown area and definitely within walking distance of Helen's house, but given the likelihood of rain, Frankie wanted to drive. Mel had texted them the room number and they swung into the hospital gift shop to get some flowers before heading up to Diedre's room.
"Hey, how's it going?" Mel said as they entered the room. Darro was slumped in a stiff recliner in the corner and Mel was in a folding chair. Diedre appeared to be asleep. Helen almost gasped at the sight of her.
"We're doing okay. We heard back from Naomi from Wilkeson." Helen said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't worry, I don't think our voices bother her. She really hasn't stirred all morning, even with the nurses poking and prodding her. They don't know what is going on." Mel said, rising to offer her chair to them. They both shook their heads.
"They wouldn't know anything about a curse and its effects. At least it is good to know there isn't some other medical issues going on - just the curse." Helen said, coming over to the bedside. She placed her hand gently on Diedre's blanketed foot.
Pink Moon Rising: The Witches of Enumclaw Book One Page 4
