The Elder Witches
Page 9
Chapter 8
Gwendolyn leaned over me, her lips pressed into a thin line, sweat beading on her forehead. Light radiated from under her hands where she pressed them to my chest. Maeve was beside her, looking worried but calm. She was holding a bowl greenish acrid smelling gunk in one hand and a cloth in the other that she dabbed on my chest.
When I tilted my head to get a better look at Gwendolyn I could see tears in her eyes. Things must not be going well. When I got the nerve, I looked down at my chest. Blood covered my button down shirt and khaki’s but I couldn’t see the wound because of the women’s hands.
Gwen saw that I was awake and her eyes went round, a smile lit up her face. I felt the gentle heat subside when she removed her hands. Then she leaned over quickly and kissed me full on the mouth.
My heart did a flip flop as I wondered how bad off I am if she’s saying her goodbyes?
She sat up just as quickly, “I’m sorry, I was just so worried about you.” Then her eyes locked on mine.
“What happened— am I going to die?” I asked in a hoarse whisper.
“You will be fine now, but you had us worried. The only way to fully complete the ritual and have the prophecy come true was to ‘touch your heart with the sword’,”she said. “That’s what the prophecy said. Now, I suspect, if anything, your life expectancy has just been greatly increased,” she said.
“Didn’t anybody ever tell you a way to a mans heart is through his stomach,” I said trying to smile.
“Egad” Maeve said wincing. “I guess your new super prophecy power isn’t comedy, Farmboy.”
I never told her I lived on a farm as a small boy. Oh, right, reads minds.
“This is just the start, Gordo. You’re part of the family now, just think of all the dirt I can find in your tiny little mind,” Maeve said smiling as she helped me sit up.
Family was something I didn’t have much of these days. The few relatives I did have were better off out of my life and the ones closest to me were all gone. Now I was being invited into this strange new family where witchcraft was ordinary and sometimes they made deals with gods that resulted in prophecies. I trusted Maeve and Gwen while Marianna wasn’t inviting with open arms, I guess every family has that one relative who rubs people the wrong way.
Maybe I should have been questioning more on the need to harpoon me but instead I just asked, “Did it work?” I looked down at my chest, there didn’t seem to be anything left but a scar where the sword had exited.
“Well, you’re still alive, so I would say yes. For nearly a thousand years anybody cut with the sword has died,” Marianna said. “But we don’t really know what it did, besides not killing you.”
Gwen helped me stand up, putting her hand under my arm she lifted me to my feet like I weighed as much as a loaf of bread. Then she took a vase off of the oak end table, took a few steps back and said, “When I let go try to catch this.” She released the vase before I could say anything further, like maybe I should be resting from a severe chest wound that I just had.
The vase fell toward the ground, then it seemed to slow down, way down. I took a few steps over, and put my hand under it gently stopping it’s downward motion. Looking back up, Gwen and Maeve both had matching smiles on their faces.
“Did you slow it down somehow?” I asked.
“Nope, that was all you,” Maeve answered.
“You must be much more careful in your movements now. Being faster and stronger will set you apart from others. You’ll want to blend in as much as possible,” Gwen said.
“Yeah, take it from us, we know about keeping a low profile,” Maeve said.
“Am I… like a vampire now?” I asked, not sure if that was a dumb question or not.
“Like how? Need to drink blood? No. We suspected you would be faster and stronger like they are, if you lived. But it will use up your magic reservoirs,” Maeve said.
Maeve tilted her head as she looked at me. The she gasped, “Reynolds!” she said, pursing her lips. Then looking to Gwendolyn she said, “Reynolds somehow came to Gordon here while he was out.”
Gwen didn’t say anything, but her posture straightened making her look more tense.
After a few more grumbles about Reynolds, they started talking about magical signs and scriptures, which all sounded like Greek to me.
I walked around the room letting my new senses reach out. My hearing was much better than before. I could clearly hear the conversation across the room even though they were speaking quietly, and the ringing in my ears that I’d had for years was gone.
As I approached a book sat sitting upon a small table, my body started to vibrate. Drawing closer I held my hand out over it. Heat went from my hand, traveling up my arm. When I laid my hand on the book visions swept through my head. Too many to understand any of them. They were mostly women from times long ago to more recent. Gwen and Maeve were mixed into the visions. I saw them mixing herbs, then holding hands under a full moon, head back as they tilted their heads to the night sky, naked. And then I saw them fighting off men with long guns and axes. Tears filled Gwen’s eyes, and Maeve begged them to stop.
I felt an itch on the back of my neck at the base of my skull. It was an itch that I couldn’t scratch. Turning around, Maeve caught my eye. She nodded understanding for what I’d just seen before turning back around to talk with Gwen.
I knew other things too, like I knew both of the girls were hungry, almost starving, more like NFL linebacker hungry than spindly twenty something women hungry. Some intuition in the back of my mind that wasn’t there before was telling me thse things. I knew there were two women in the house, no men, other than myself. I could also tell looking at Gwen that she was over 700 years old, 713 to be exact. Maeve was 686 years old. I was still pondering their ages when I saw a faint green glow surrounding Maeve that reminded me of 60’s alien sci-fi movie. Mixed with the green were flat black spots on her forehead. The black might be something related to her gift with the Craft, or at least that was my guess. Gwen had the same glow but blue and had spots of black on her chest and hands. Looking at myself in the mirror I didn’t see anything, but looking down at myself I could see a very faint red glow. Then willing it away, the color disappeared from my vision.
Looking out the big bay windows on the front of the house,a young couple, a man and a woman walked down the sidewalk. Concentrating on using my new Sight, a pale yellow glow surrounded both of them.
An hour or so later, we all sat in the kitchen. I sipped a Sam Adams, absently rubbing the now scarred over tissue on my chest. Maeve and Gwen took turns telling me the story of the sword. It dated back to somewhere around 600BC and was one of the 4 treasures of the Tuatha De Danann. How it became the property of the demigod Airmid is unclear, however she gave implicit instructions to never speak the name of the original owner for fear that he hears and investigates. By ‘investigate’ I take it they meant vengeance of a God type. The sword is said to be invincible and more tenacious than Thor’s hammer. While nobody could lift Mjölnir, the sword gave you enough rope to hang yourself. Anyone not bonded to the sword would cease to exist before the first blow was struck. This part they repeated a few times to me until they were sure I understood.
“Don’t use the super sword, I got it,” I said making a face.
“Some people need more guidance than others…” Maeve said.
“Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve got a perfect memory—”
“— It’s not your memory in question, just your judgment, you did just let somebody stab you in the heart after all.”
“That’s low.”
“— Like I was saying, Marianna is actually only the 2nd mortal holder of the sword. Her mother, my grandmother, Hilde, was the 1st. A millennia ago she met Airmid, one of the Tuatha De Danann who shared with her the secret of the sword and much more. Airmid needed a favor, and Hilde’s gift was uniquely suited to help her out.”
I was going to ask how one goes about meeting a god, but de
cided to hold my tongue.
“Hilde was special in that she could call up doorways to other worlds and specifically to Tir na n-Og, where the Tuatha De Danann lived, from almost anywhere. A gifted witch can usually only create a doorway to other worlds where the magical currents are very strong. Think of magic currents much like rivers, creeks and streams.”
“You can create doorways to other worlds?”
“Yes, but I must be near a very strong current. It would take a river or magical energy for most witches or wizards to get to Airmid in Tir na n-Og, and the Otherworld is very dangerous for a mortal. Risking the life of a loved one to a Goddess is never a good idea, but a great reward was offered for the person who could get Airmid’s lover safely to Tir na n-Og. What went without saying was that great suffering would follow for anyone that tried and failed.”
I listened as she told me how Airmid was in love with a mortal but he could never be with her unless someone from the mortal world opened a rift to the Otherworld for him to pass through. Airmid could pass either way but Gods are not permitted to bring back humans. Creating a portal for her lover to pass through wasn’t easy, but Hilde accomplished it. Airmid was the daughter of the God of healing, as such she had great magical powers and was particularly skilled in the use of herbs.
“What she taught Hilde and what we still practice is what has allowed us to live so long,” Maeve said, “It’s one of the reasons green thumb over there is always in the garden.”
“You can stop using my herbs any time…”
Maeve smiled but didn’t reply.
“Hilde was already a strong witch, but with the knowledge gained from Airmid she became one of the most power supernaturals on the planet. In this realm of course”. Gwen gave me a small wave of her hand, silencing my questions threatening to pour out.
“Another very important element that she learned from Airmid was that after using her herbal age potions, the Druid’s blood contained a virus like attribute that could be transferred to another. If their blood is used correctly it will mutate the body of the host in such a way that they will not age. This came with a price though, If somebody that isn’t touched by the craft has this spell wrought upon them, they will become a hemoglovore. A vampire, for all intents and purposed. They would be forced to drink blood to survive.
“I know you got a boatload of questions, lay em on me,” Maeve said, bringing a small smile to Gwen’s rosy lips.
“What happened to Hilde? If she was so strong, why isn’t she still alive?” I asked before giving that much though, as happens too often I‘m ashamed to say.
“The leader of the green vampire conclave killed her. They were good friends at the time, which is how he was close enough to betray her. His greed overcame him, he tried to take what she would not give. He drugged her, then tried to drain her blood. However he underestimated how much her power healed her own body, and that we could sense were she was at all times,” Maeve said. “We found Hilde alive but he had traps in place in case we came. Of all things, a crude bomb under her chair detonated destroying Hilde. It was meant for all of us, and the blast was more than even her immense power could heal.”
“And the vampire?” I asked.
“The bomb was meant to distract us as much as kill us. We caught him before he could get away,” Gwen said.
“He was in more pieces than Hilde the last time we saw him,” Maeve said.
“So, you’re all witches, your mother is too, your grandmama was the queen witch? You created vampires and now you have a sword that belonged to a Celtic God?” I said.
“Yes, not so much queen, but very powerful; and they are only a breed of vampire, the Green Conclave, there are others that have nothing to do with us. And yes, we did not steal the sword, it was a gift but wording was a bit tricky when Airmid gave it to Hilde,” Gwen said.
“Plus we’re pretty sure that your little fireworks show with the sword was sent out to every nearby witch worth their salt like a beacon. They all know that the elders prophecy has been found, or at a minimum that something extremely powerful just happened,” said Maeve.
“You said I have some sort of power,” I smirked, “But when I woke up this morning I don’t recall any great power. As a matter of fact I couldn’t even find my car keys and I burned my breakfast.”
Gwen smiled.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“Now, “we have lunch. We’ll start by trying to find out what the ritual has done to you.” She smiled at me and I knew I could trust her, but my instinct told me she was holding something back too.