‘Your hair is lovely, though, Aish. You should wear it down more often.’ Faye motioned to them both to sit down. Aisha blushed, but looked pleased.
‘Thanks,’ she said shyly as she joined them on the rug.
‘Come on! Let’s do this. The night’s auspicious. Look at that moon!’ Annie wriggled her shoulders in excitement and they all looked up through the plate-glass shop windows at the huge yellow-gold moon that seemed to hang pregnant in the black sky. ‘It’s a Friday, the best day for love spells. And it’s a full moon. Ach, I’m horny. Bring me someone, moon! I’m not even fussy by now.’
‘Hey. I thought you wanted your next great love?’ Faye raised her eyebrow at Annie, who sat opposite Aisha so that the three of them made a triangle within the circle.
‘I do. Just saying, nothin’s off the table. Or floor, in this case. Shall we get started, then? You going to clear the space, call the powers in?’
Annie knew more or less as much as Faye about witchcraft; Moddie and Grandmother had taught Faye, and Faye had taught her friend. Later, when Grandmother had passed on but Moddie was still alive, she had treated both of them as her daughters. Ah, my witchlings, come in and learn, she’d say sometimes when they tiptoed into the kitchen, trying to get a glimpse of Moddie’s spell-making.
Moddie had relied more on the modern witchcraft books that she stocked in the shop than Grandmother’s family wisdom, though Faye never knew why; perhaps she found the old traditions too familiar. A lot was similar, but much was different. When they were teens, Moddie had taught them how to cast a circle according to modern witchcraft; Grandmother sniffed at what she considered her daughter’s modern notions. No point calling in the powers like you’re in the theatre, standing there, waving your arms like an idiot. The powers would be there all the time if ye were living rightly with them, she’d say, glaring at the purple and blue-covered paperbacks that featured elegant women’s profiles against crescent moons. Hell mend ye if ye conjure some kind of foreign spirit in the house…
But Moddie would roll her eyes. Ma, come on now. Times are changing, she said, and so Faye learned a combination of Grandmother’s old ways and Moddie’s newer ones, which served her well now that she ran the shop.
Faye picked up a rose crystal wand – the stone for love – and walked around her friends, imagining drawing down moon and starlight from the clear black Scottish sky. When it was cloudless like tonight, the night sky reminded her of the freezing, eerily flat water at Loch Lomond, further inland to the west of Abercolme. She had visited a few times; it was an eerily beautiful place at night, with water that appeared black in daylight because of its great depth, but was as clear and sharp as diamonds.
She felt the power fill her from above, then brought the power up through her from the earth; the rich black earth under the worn flagstone floor; the wet green of the woodland, and the dark, rained-on sand of the beach that she had felt between her toes so many times that she almost missed it when it was gone. The power of earth and stars filled her and met in her middle, spiralling into each other and building heat through her body.
Faye felt the power of earth and sky flow through her, through the wand and, with her eyes half-closed, she saw it light up the stone-flagged floor, making a circle of light that glowed in the same pink as the crystal wand.
Next, Faye called in the elements: north for earth, east for air, south for fire, west for water. Going to each point in the circle where she had already placed the candles inside their glass lamps, she spread her arms wide and called out to the spirits of each element to protect them in their work.
When she turned to west to invoke the power of water, she envisaged a wall of water, like a waterfall, flowing to her; to the south, a wall of fire that crackled and spat. When she faced the east and opened her arms to connect with the power of air, she imagined standing on top of a mountain with the wind pushing at her from against the drop below. And when she turned to the north, she felt the steadfast power of earth spiralling around them; envisioned mountains in front of her, felt the lushness of the earth under her feet, even though she stood on the stone-flagged floor of the shop that was worn smooth in places and dipped with the wear of feet over hundreds of years.
The women gripped each other’s hands. In the middle of their circle Faye had set up an altar for their love spell. In the centre she had placed two deities: the horned god Pan representing nature on one side, representing all things masculine and virile; a statuette of the goddess of love, Aphrodite, on the other, standing in her seashell with her hair wreathed about her naked body, representing the energy of love. Around the deity figures she had scattered shells and pebbles collected from the local beach; a vase of red and pink roses stood behind them.
She had lit pink and red candles, two of each, and benzoin, rose petal and jasmine incense burnt fragrant smoke around them from where it smouldered on top of a charcoal disc in an earthenware holder. In preparation for their ritual, Faye had also filled a blue-painted pottery chalice with a pentagram on the front with half of a mini bottle of champagne. A lover’s drink to entice a lover, she thought as she watched the bubbles burst on the surface of the golden fizz. Why not.
‘Let us first set our clear intention in our work. That we will attract romantic love to ourselves in the best way possible for us, individually; that we trust the gods to bring us exactly what we need,’ she said, opening Grandmother’s book. The ritual additions were hers, to set the mood and create the space; the spell itself noted only the bare bones of what was needed: desire, and a poppet doll.
‘They should be sexy. The men. And women,’ Aisha added.
‘Okay, okay. We’ll attract romantic love and great sex to ourselves, and we trust the gods to bring us what we need.’ Faye smiled and raised her eyebrow at her friend. ‘Good enough?’
‘Aye.’ Annie wriggled on the rug. ‘What? It isn’t that comfortable sitting on a stone floor, ye know.’
‘Let’s get started, then. Get out your poppets.’
Each woman laid a doll onto the rug in front of them. In preparation for the spell, Faye had told them to each make a poppet of their ideal partner as a focus in the spell. Aisha put hers in front of her shyly.
She had drawn a big red heart in marker pen on the white t-shirt material she’d made her poppet of. ‘He’s got a good heart,’ she explained. ‘And I stuffed him with cut-up copies of Rolling Stone. So he’ll be intelligent and into music.’
‘Okay, well, that makes sense. Annie?’ Faye turned to her shop assistant. ‘What have you got?’
Annie placed a Barbie in front of her.
‘This is her.’
‘Barbie?’
‘She’s got big tits, she’s blonde, she’s into fashion and she’s, like, had about a million professional careers. What’s not to love?’
Aisha laughed. ‘That’s so cool. I love it.’
Annie picked up the Barbie and smoothed out its little t-shirt, on which she’d written GIRLS RULE.
‘So. I gave her a kind of activist t-shirt because I want someone who cares about politics. And I gave her this miniskirt and cowboy boots because she still needs to be hot. And she’s carrying some little books I made because she’s intelligent and she likes reading. And, look, I coloured in all her chakras.’ Annie pulled up the doll’s t-shirt to show exploding stars in the colours of the rainbow going from red at the Barbie’s groin to dark blue on her third eye. ‘So she’ll be spiritual. Into yoga or something, at least.’
‘Of course. However you do it is fine.’ Faye nodded. ‘Okay. So, we present these poppets to the gods and ask them to bring these qualities to us, or something better.’ She placed hers next to the other dolls.
‘Faye, that’s beautiful!’ Aisha gasped. ‘How long did it take you?’ She picked it up and turned it over gently in her hands.
‘Oh, not long,’ Faye murmured, and looked away, embarrassed. Her poppet had actually taken a week to make; she’d neglected restocking the shop because she’
d been sitting at the shop counter, stitching it for days.
She had made a man’s shape; tall, long-legged, strong in the shoulders, but not too meaty a figure. It had dark-blond hair made of a golden wool with a dark copper fleck in it that she’d found in Moddie’s old mending basket, which she’d woven into braids. She had embroidered blue eyes and, as it had turned out, quite a pouty mouth. On the body she had sewn her wishes in blue and gold. The stitching was fine and delicate; as a child, Moddie had taught her how to embroider: chain-stitch, cross-stitch, open-leaf, fishbone.
In a fine running stitch she’d written a long line of rhyming words, wrapping the doll’s body. Let him be kind, beautiful, magical, free; let him be loving, gentle, and in love with me.
Aisha read out the words; the fire crackled as her voice wove the magic that had already begun with the stitching.
‘That’s lovely, Faye.’ Annie smiled gently and took her friend’s hand. ‘I hope he comes for ye, I really do,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ Faye blushed, and placed all three on the altar. ‘Right. So, now we’ve created our poppets, we charge them with the elemental energy to give them life. Starting with air in the east, go clockwise and imagine all four elements flowing into your poppet.’ Faye closed her eyes and saw each element immediately, flowing and combining into a golden-white light that surrounded and filled her little doll. ‘Now! Say with me:
Bring love to me; so mote it be.
Fill my heart; so let it start.
Satisfy my desire; by earth, air, water and fire.
Blessed faerie realm, bring love to me.
Blessed Fair Folk, bring me the satisfaction of my desire.
She had learned the chant from Grandmother’s book and repeated it, wondering if Grandmother had ever cast this spell, and what the outcome was if she had.
The women chanted after her, three times: Blessed faerie realm, bring love to me. Blessed Fair Folk, bring me the satisfaction of my desire. Faye took each poppet and wafted it through the incense smoke, then replaced them on the altar; she took up the blue chalice of champagne and gulped. She focused as hard as she could on the desired outcome, but her mind shifted every time. It was like trying to look through bevelled glass. She knew she wanted someone. A lover, someone that would pull her heart open and deserve the love that lay there, dormant, waiting. But, though she could see a vague figure in her mind’s eye, it wouldn’t come clear. Still, she had made the doll, at least. That would do its work if Grandmother’s book was to be believed.
‘So mote it be,’ she intoned, and passed the cup to Aisha.
‘So mote it be,’ Aisha repeated, and passed the cup to Annie, who sipped twice before passing it back to Faye. ‘What now?’ She looked at the door as if she expected someone to walk through it immediately.
‘Now, we close the circle and wait,’ Faye said quietly, feeling the magic spiralling around her, big and powerful. Something would come of this. She knew it, deeply, inside herself.
‘Do you think they’ll come?’ Aisha whispered. ‘Like, together? In a group?’
‘That seems highly unlikely.’ Annie stretched out her legs and knelt, preparing to get up. ‘But, you know. Magic works in its own weird way.’
‘It will be what it’s supposed to be,’ Faye said, as she banished the elements from the circle, imagining each one disappearing: the fire dying and going back to ground, the water drying away, the mountains receding, the strong breeze dropping to a light breath. Closing the circle by walking around the outside of the space and smudging at the circle of light with her foot, she took care not to disturb the rose petals. ‘The altar can stay up overnight. I’ll take it down before we open in the morning,’ she said. ‘Let it have as much time in the moon as it can.’
‘Will it work?’ Aisha murmured to Faye. ‘Will it really, do you think?’ Her wide, long-lashed brown eyes searched Faye for reassurance and, for the first time, Faye saw something she hadn’t seen before in Aisha’s eyes; a raw need, a yearning. Perhaps Aisha needed this more than Faye had expected.
‘I’m sure it will.’ Faye reached out shyly and touched Aisha’s soft cheek. ‘Have faith,’ she murmured, and Aisha nodded.
Annie knelt in front of the altar and bent her head for a moment, no doubt adding an extra prayer to the gods. Faye watched her friend trace her fingertips over the words of the spell in the book. If Grandmother had cast this spell, had it brought her Moddie’s father? Had Moddie cast it to summon Faye’s own father? And, if so, how good was a spell that summoned lovers who would try to kill you, then desert you?
Suddenly, the door swung open and an icy winter blast of wind blew in from the outside. The bells next to the door jangled in alarm, and the old charm of pebbles strung together with string that hung there, made by Grandmother as protection, shook violently.
‘What the…?’ Aisha was the closest to the door, instinctively stepping out into the street. As soon as she did, the gusting wind died away and the full yellow moonlight painted shining streaks on Aisha’s long black hair. She looked up in confusion at the moon which seemed to fill the sky.
Faye ran to close the door, goosebumps prickling her skin. She had been so sure she’d locked it. As she did so, she felt a kind of presence pass her and go out through the door. The incense smoke which had built up in the room billowed out into the night air, but it was more than that. As if the spell had been truly released into the world.
Faye’s heart beat in a panic as she pulled Aisha inside and closed the door again hurriedly behind them both. The door banging open had coincided with feeling as though the stone-flagged floor had dissolved under her, and now she was falling.
Aisha’s face wore an odd expression; her wide eyes dreamy and staring. Her cheeks were flushed and hot, even though it was cold outside.
‘Aisha! Aisha! What’s up?’ Faye shook her friend gently, realising that she was also hanging on to Aisha to stop the disorienting feeling of the floor slipping away under her. The roses faded from Aisha’s light brown skin. Her eyes cleared, and she met Faye’s gaze. Faye felt the room right itself and her feet firmly back on the stone.
‘Nothing… I…’ Aisha gazed through the glass door outside onto the street, which was almost as bright as daylight, and smiled quietly, as if she had a pleasurable secret. ‘I’m fine. You should see the moon out there, Faye. I don’t know why you locked the door in the first place.’
But Faye felt something other than pleasure at the languid yellow moonlight outside. It felt odd; she couldn’t remember a time when the full moon had ever felt strange to her before. Yet there was a strange atmosphere out there, like the heavy warmth before a storm.
Faye pulled the blind down on the door, blew out the remaining candles in the shop and turned on the harsh electric light.
‘Back to real life,’ she said as cheerily as she could, but her voice wavered.
Chapter Four
There were two routes Faye usually took across the beach, depending on whether it was high or low tide.
At low tide, she walked across the wet brown sand, as close to the water as she could. If it was at all warm, she took off her shoes and let the water wash her feet. If it really was too cold – the icy water in winter was too much to bear, really – she kept her boots on, but bent down to trail her fingers in the water from time to time, looking out to sea.
At high tide the short beach was almost totally submerged, apart from the rocks right at the edge that bordered an area which was half-sand, half-grass. If Faye came to the beach at that time then she balanced across the rocks in bare feet or with boots until she got to her favourite rock; high up, the tide hardly ever reached it and she sat up there like a mermaid, watching the waves roll in and out.
Despite loving the sea, having practically grown up at the beach, Faye had a deep fear of what was in its depths. The clear, cool wavelets that stroked the shore were one thing; even going up to her knees was fine. Sometimes she even swam along the shoreline, but no further than a fe
w metres out into the deeper water, where the sea floor dropped away sharply in steep banks, and only when the sea was flat and calm. She had seen many sea storms from up in the village when no-one dared to go anywhere near Black Sands; where the waves rose high and lashed buildings furiously. She had seen, once, a dolphin washed up dead on the beach, swept in a storm from deeper waters. And, like everyone in the village, she remembered fishermen – when she was a child and people still fished the waters here – whose boats had capsized in a storm, or the poor souls who had gone swimming too far out and never came home. The dark sea was capricious and terrible; Faye both feared and loved it. Most of all, she respected it. It did not do to disrespect the sea.
It was a scramble to get to her favourite spot, but when she was sitting there, the rocks were arranged in such a way that she was hidden from anyone on the beach. Faye was pretty sure it was only her that used it; she tested it by leaving strands of seaweed trailing over different areas in the rock. When she returned, no-one had ever moved them.
The only thing that overlooked her rocky perch on the beach was a house, but it had been closed up for as long as Faye could remember, though it was kept in good repair by whatever property company owned it. It had been built in the sixties by some rich architect who was drawn to Abercolme for the coastline; Moddie had told her he had unknowingly built the house on a ley line, or some other sacred ground. Either way, once it was built, Grandmother had said that the local faeries were displeased, and had cast a curse on anyone who lived there. Whatever the reason, it had been bought a few times but always sold soon after, so had been empty for as long as Faye could remember.
Often, she came to the beach with a spell ready to cast into the waves; sometimes, she came just to be with the sea, loving its strong, elemental force. The air at the beach was always bright and clear. She didn’t mind if it was cold. She loved the salt spray on her face; she loved the wildness of the water and the way it changed colour, from grey to dull green to blue-black and turquoise, occasionally, in the summer.
Daughter of Light and Shadows Page 3
