But wait! he said mysteriously. He held out one hand as if he were cradling an invisible tool.
Whats this? Kyra said. More magick?
He smiled. When I touched Siobhans shoulder, I managed to extract a valuable itema strand of her hair. He waved his closed fingers before me, and I saw ita thin line of gold.
I was most impressed. All this time I had thought Falkner a bit dim-witted, but perhaps he had simply been keeping his thoughts to himself. In any case, I had to admire his foresight in stealing something that could prove quite valuableespecially if I needed to cast another spell against Siobhan. Thank you, I said, sweeping the golden hair from his hand and tucking it into a tiny pouch from my pocket.
Kyra brushed off her skirts as we headed back toward the center of Lillipool. That was amusing indeed, though I think Siobhan is a waste of your time and power, she told me. You need to go directly to Diarmuid. Speak to him. The true power is with him, not that silly girl.
I do believe you are right, I said as we walked along. And I shall go to him tonight when he has returned from the fields. The Goddess will give him the strength to defy his name and clan. I know it to be our destiny.
I could not wait for the evening.
11. Spelling a Death Drink with Dark Powers
Falkner delivered me to the path to Mas cottage, and I waved good-bye to my friends with a firm resolution to work things out before nightfall. But as I neared the clearing, I noticed a group of coveners lingering outside our cottage. Panic ran cold within me. Something was wrong. Their expressions were somber as I ran up to them.
What is it? I called breathlessly. Whats happened?
Tis your ma, Ian MacGreavy answered. He came to me and took my hand. Shes been hurt, Rose.
Gripped with fear, I broke loose from him and pushed past the others into the cottage. A few women from the coven were huddled around Mas bed, stroking her hair and speaking in hushed tones. As I pressed closer, I saw Ma lying there, her eyes open but glazed. A pool of blood stained the blanket beneath her.
Ma! I knelt beside her, taking her hand. What happened?
Her face was a mask of pain, and from the look in her eyes I could see she was not completely in this world.
She cannot speak, one of the elders told me. Mrs. Hazelton put her hand on my shoulder. Seems that a stray hunters arrow hit your ma. She was just leaving my cottage, having delivered a salve for my husbands breathing. She went down so fast! The huntsman never came forward, but I did hear his arrow whirring amid the tree.
Ill wager it was an arrow from a rival clan, Aislinn said, her face pinched with anger. A deliberate act of aggression.
We dont know that, Mrs. Hazelton pointed out.
I stood and looked over Mas body. The arrow was still in her back. This must be removed, I said, wondering how deep it had penetrated.
But the heat in her body is high, said another elder who went by the name of Norn. She was a shriveled prune of a woman, but I had always been fond of her humor and her spirit. Norn touched Mas forehead, clucking her tongue.Tis dangerous to take the arrow while she is feverish.
Then we must take care of her fever. I pushed back my hair, then went to the basin to wash my hands. If there was ever an occasion that I needed to call upon the magick I had learned, this was it. I handed the broom to Aislinn to sweep the circle, then I went to Mas Book of Shadows for remedies. We need something to bring down the fever, and we must help her sleep. Removing the arrow might cause her great painits better if she can rest. I leafed through the book. I know we can start with chamomile and passionflowers.
Anise in the tea will help her sleep, Norn told me. And rosemary will help the pain.
Add cayenne to stay the flow of blood, Mrs. Hazelton said.
I nodded as I leafed through the book. Finally I found a remedy for fever. Well need boneset in the tea to lower the fever, I said, rushing over to the jars and pouches to retrieve the herbs. Pray Goddess that shes able to drink this at all!
Norn had already put the kettle on the fire. Working together, we steeped a strong tea for Ma. As it brewed, I went to the altar and consecrated the tea and the comfrey poultice that Norn was preparing. I dont know what I said in the heated, dreadful moment, only that I summoned the Goddess to heal Her daughter and to work through my hands, and the others chanted, So mote it be!
We managed to prop my mother up so that the tea could pass over her lips. Still dazed, she sipped most of the contents. After that, her eyes closed and her breathing slowed.
Tis working, Norn said, dousing my mothers head with a cool cloth. The fever is lifting.
Thanking the Goddess, I set to work on the arrow. I had to cut the skin a bit with my bolline to remove the barbed head, and as I worked, Mas blood ran out steadily. At last the arrow was out, and I dressed the wound with the poultice and covered it with a clean white cloth.
Now. she must rest, Norn said, her own voice cracking with weariness. As should we. Well know more when she awakens.
I lifted the plate containing the bloodied dressings and the arrow that Id removed. Glancing down at the base, I noticed that it was marked with runes.
My body went cold as I deciphered their meaning. Vykrothes... So this was no hunting accident. The arrow was part of a spell cast by Siobhan, I was sure of it. Had not Mrs. Hazelton said that a hunter had never appeared? Surely a hunter would come forward to claim his prized deer or rabbit? No, this was not a normal arrow. It had been spelled by Siobhan.
Had she intended to hit me? I couldnt be sure. But one thing I was sure of: Siobhan had gone too far. She had to be stopped.
A Vykrothe arrow... Norn gasped.
What? Aislinn darted over to my side to study the arrow. Oh, Goddess, this is truly war! To have our high priestess struck down by another clan!
It might have been an accident, Norn pointed out. Come along now, Aislinn. You get yourself all liverish at every turn, girl!
Oh, some accident! Aislinn exclaimed. If it were not intended for Síle, why did the huntsman not come forward and state his mistake?
Quiet, girl! Mrs. Hazelton hushed her. Youre loud enough to wake the dead, and Síle must sleep.
Sleep, she will, Aislinn said in a quieter voice. But when she awakens, she will find a changed world. A clan at war! For we cannot sit back and let our priestess be attacked!
Enough! Placing a wrinkled hand on Aislinns shoulder, Norn led her to the door. Let us go so Síle can rest. Rose will watch over her. She ushered Aislinn out, then turned back to me. You performed some powerful magick today, she told me softly, her eyes gleaming. Your ma would be proud.
I nodded, my lips twisted with pain as the women filed out the door and returned to their own cottages. I closed the door and sighed, alone but for the quiet breathing of my mother in the bed. I cleaned up the bloodied things, dumped the old water, tidied the cottage, nursed Mas head with a cool cloth. All the while I felt embittered and frightened.
I had brought a Vykrothe arrow upon my mother.
It was time for Siobhan to have a taste of her own evil.
Listlessly I paged through Mas Book of Spells, praying for an answer. Aislinn was right. The Vykrothes deserved a taste of their own dark magick. But where do you begin if youve not been trained in the ways of darkness?
I turned to a spell called Death Drink and paused. I had never had much interest in this ritual. It called for a covener who wanted to visit their own mortality to drink a bitter brew. The potion sometimes made them a bit ill, but it was never fatal. As far as I was concerned, this was a tedious mind journey. So what if it led to inner wisdom?
But now, in this light, I wondered if I could use the death drink as a spell upon an unwilling victim. Siobhan.
I would add a few poisonous ingredients and a dark spell that would send Siobhan to deaths door. She would not die, though she might wish she could. As I doused Mas forehead with a cloth, I imagined Siobhan writhing in pain. Oh, I would send her a spell to end her viciousness.
Ill need bitter ingredients, I whispered as I combed Mas hair back with my fingers. Cranberries from the bogs. Toadstools. And bitter essence of appleseeds.
Ma sighed contentedly, and I realized her fever had cooled. She slept soundly while I shuffled about the cottage, assembling herbs from our collection. When I was sure she was resting comfortably, with no sign of fever, I slipped out to consecrate the brew at my sacred circle.
Along the way I found a small wren hiding in the bushes. I paused, my life force pounding in my ears. I had never hurt one of the Goddesss creatures before, but everyone knew that the blood of a living animal made for potent dark magick. Quietly I knelt beside it, taking a large pouch from my belt. In the blink of an eye I swung the open pouch over the bird, trapping it with such deftness, I felt sure the Goddess intended it.
The stars were shrouded by clouds as I reached the clearing. I had expected darkness, with the new moon this eve. I squeezed the nectar from some sweet honeysuckles, thinking that if the potion tasted a bit palatable, Siobhan might drink it all. I added Siobhans golden hair from her very own body. And much to my surprise, I barely flinched when it was time to cut the wrens neck and add its blood to the potion. There. the death drink was complete.
Oh, Goddess, I whispered, here I do display the chalice of death. Whoever drinks this shall journey to the land of darkness and dwell there until she comes to realize the error of her ways.
I dipped my athame in the chalice, then held the blade up to the sky. A bitter potion to end a bitter evil! I said. I placed a cloth over the chalice as drops began to fall from the sky. Cool, cleansing raindrops. From the distant hills came the rumble of thunderthe Goddesss answer. She had heard me. So mote it be, I whispered.
The sun rose on a newly cleansed earth. I sat in bed, grateful that Síle was still resting comfortably. I arose and began to wash and dress. It was getting more and more difficult to find a place for my girdle between my belly and my breasts. Soon the world would know I was expecting a child. If all went well, I would have a husband before then.
I had just finished eating my breakfast of warm gruel and apples when Norn appeared at the cottage door, bearing a basket of biscuits.
I have come to give you a rest from nursing your ma, she said, her beady eyes shining in her wrinkled face. Go forth. You need some fresh air and release.
Thank you, I said, taking a cloak to cover my belly and ward off the morning dew. I have need of some time to commune with the Goddess, I told her. I started out the door, then turned back to retrieve the pitcher containing the death drink. Let me not forget the ceremonial wine, I said.
It is good that you are working your own spells, Norn told me. Your mother must be pleased. Has she told you that youre likely to be our covens next high priestess?
N-no, I said, surprised at her words. But Ma has taught me well.
Norn smiled brightly as I headed down the path, on my way to Siobhans cottage.
The trip to Lillipool had begun to seem shorter now that Id traveled this way so oft of late. The sun was still low on the eastern hills when I rounded the hilltop near the heather fields. The MacMahon cottage sat in the sun, a young lad of five or six playing about near the woodpile beyond the house. He had long golden hair that hung to his shoulders and a smudge on his cheek. Probably Siobhans younger brother, I wagered as I approached him. Perfect!
He was scalping the bark from various tree branches, his own unskilled attempts at carving figurines. When I drew close, he glanced up at me curiously. Hark! he said. Do you come to visit me?
I come with a gift for Siobhan, I said, holding up the pitcher. But since the hour is so early, I dare not disturb the household. Do you know her? I asked.
Aye! I am her brother Tysen. He eyed the pitcher curiously. But what gift have you there?
Tis a sweet nectar from her love, I said. Siobhan is to drink this first thing upon awakening. I lowered my voice, adding, I think perhaps he has put a love spell upon it, hoping to capture your sisters heart. Do you know Diarmuid?
He grinned. Aye, I know him well. He owes me a ride upon his shoulders.
I shall remind him of that, I said. Carefully I handed the pitcher to the boy. Do you think you can handle a task of this magnitude?
Aye. He smiled proudly, his pale eyes gleaming.Tis an easy task.
Tysen headed toward the house, and I headed back the way I had come with a new sense of righteousness and balance. Siobhan had struck down my mother, but her evil magick was now cycling back to her.
When I returned to the cottage, Ma was sitting up and eating biscuits with Norn.
Look whos feeling better, Norn said, all smiles as she took the kettle of tea off the fire. Thats some powerful magick you wrought yesterday, Rose. Síle, your daughter is truly blessed by the Goddess.
Indeed, my mother said. I have always admired her powers. I am fortunate she was at hand yesterday when I was in dire need of them.
I thanked Norn for her help, and she insisted on leaving the biscuits behind. After she departed, Ma moved back to the bed to drink her tea.
What a world of difference, I told her as I sat at the table. I bit into a biscuit and brushed flour from my fingers. You look so much better.
Thanks to you, she said. You have come a long way in your magick, Rose.
I smiled. Perhaps Ma finally realized that Id been working hard to learn the ways of the Goddess.
Ma sipped her tea, then let her head drop back. But I must say, my mind traveled to some frightening places in my dreams. I saw you concocting a dark spell, inviting in evil, conjuring a potion with the intention to hurt someone. I saw your athame raised to dark thunderclouds anddid it rain last night?
I think it did, I said innocently. The biscuit was now wedged in my throat, and I no longer had the appetite for it. Mas insightfulness scared me. It was difficult to fool a high priestessespecially if she was your mother!
Such frightening visions, Ma said.
Brushing off my hands, I went to my mothers bedside. Shall I change the dressing or wait?
Let it wait, Ma said, lifting the cloth to show me the wound. It seems to be healing.
I nodded. It does look much better. But you should sleep. You need to heal.
I will, though I fear my sleep will be haunted by more of the same dreams.
Twas but a vision of your delirium, I assured her. Now that you have no fever, your dreams will be gentle.
Síle smiled. Advice from my daughter?
I nodded. Sage advice.
12. Reversing a Spell
While Ma slept, I went down to wash at the brook, trying to think of a way to sneak off and see Diarmuid. I could not abandon Ma in her current state, not for a long period. And although I was grateful that she was healing quickly, my patience was wearing thin.
You need your da, I said, rubbing my belly as I waded in the cool shallows.
I would have to give Ma one more day. After that, perhaps I could convince Kyra or Norn to stay with her while I went to fetch the man who would become my husband.
Feeling cleansed and refreshed, I headed back to the cottage. When I came upon the main road, I spied Kyra tramping along, a basket on her arm.
I have sweet oat cakes for your ma, she said, and dreadful news for you. She took my hand and pulled me off the road. Did you cast a spell over Siobhan? Some kind of deadly potion?
I did. I squared my shoulders. After what she did to my mother, I
Im not blaming you, Kyra interrupted, but rumor has it that Siobhans younger brother has fallen ill. The boy seems to have a sleeping sickness, his breathing slowed to frightening depths, his body racked by convulsions.
I gasped. He drank the potion?
Kyra nodded sadly. The poor little thing.
I thought of Tysen, carving the bark diligently. The way he had been so proud to bear the pitcher to his sister. Id had no idea he would drink it himself. But then, he was only a childperhaps a mischievous one. I should have realized that when I handed him the death drink. I bit my lower lip, wondering if all of the death drink had gone to the wrong person. And how is Siobhan? I asked, hoping that she might have had a few sips herself.
In a fury, Kyra answered. Siobhan is telling everyone that the potion was spelled, an evil spell cast by you!
I folded my arms defensively. The cup was not marked, and no one saw me give it to Tysen. At least, I didnt think anyone saw me. Siobhan will never be able to prove her suspicions, I said.
Perhaps not, Kyra agreed. Still, tis a sad thing to see sickness in one so young.
Indeed. With every ounce of my might I wished that I could take back the spelltake it all back and restore Tysens good health. Perhaps I could.
But I didnt want to involve Kyra in this, especially now that I had dabbled in dark magick. I thanked her for the cakes and headed back to the cottage, thinking of possible spells. There was a spell intended to undo the original spellcertainly worth a try. And there was an endless variety of healing spells. Surely any combination of those would cure the boy.
Back at the cottage, Ma was asleep. I checked her for fever, then sat at the table with her Book of Shadows. After much searching I found the spell of reversal:
On the eve of the new moon I cast a spell,
And the effects I created, I must now quell.
May this spell be lifted and I now gifted with.
With good health for Tysen, I whispered aloud.
The spell called for protective stones such as amethyst or smokey quartz, and I was to use one white and one black candle for balance. I bit my lips, determined to sneak out to my sacred place in the woods as soon as night fell and save Tysen. For now I could only assemble the things I would need.
Night had fallen. Ma had been to the table to eat, but now she was back in bed again, too weak to stay up for long. Still, she was healing well. I had cleaned and dressed her wound, and it was starting to close with no redness or discharge. I was grateful that she would recover.
She dozed upon her pillow now, and I was ready to slip out and reverse the spell that had befallen poor Tysen. My tools and herbs were assembled. All that I needed was a gem-stone from Mas cupboard. I opened the cabinet door and poked about, searching for a stone with the right charge. I found a malachite, a bluish stone with bands of white. Holding it thoughtfully in my hands, I realized it would be a good stone to keep near me. Malachite was known to give wisdom, pointing one in the right direction, giving guidance. I was about to slip it in my pocket when the stone broke in half! Part of it tumbled from my hand, falling to the table with a thud.
Ma bolted up in bed. What was that? she asked.
This malachite, I told her, picking up the pieces from the floor. It broke in two!
Oh, dear Goddess! Ma exclaimed. She tried to rise from her bed, but I could see that the movement drained her.
Dont get up, Ma, I said, tucking the blanket over her. Its all right.
But its not! This has dire meaning. Malachite breaks in two to give you a warning of danger. Something terrible is going to happen, Rose!
I swallowed hard, trying to hold back my own panic. Oh, Goddess, are my dark spells coming back to me? I couldnt bear to tell Ma the truth of my worries, to admit how deep I had fallen into spells she didnt approve of.
Oh, then. it must have been predicting your accident with the arrow, I said, turning my face to the cupboard. I put the two pieces of malachite back on the shelf. Because, actually, the stone broke last week. I simply forgot to mention it to you.
It was already broken?
I could feel her fear draining away.
Well, then, lets hope you are right. Perhaps you are. She turned on her side, content to fall back asleep.
I found an amethyst in her collection, then collected the candles and herbs I had gathered. It was time to save Tysen.
Quietly I slipped out the door and started up the path. Ahead of me light spilled down the lane. What was it from? A moment later torches floated up the path, heading this way.
I recoiled in fear. What had happened? Had Tysen died already and the Vykrothes come to punish me? I backed up to the door and nearly fell inside. Ma was already up, hobbling toward me.
What is it, Rose? she asked in a hoarse voice. I sense the danger. Whats happening?
A band of people is coming, I said, rushing to stow away the things I had collected for my spell. I dont know who they are, but they are not Vykrothes.
Let us see, Ma said, shuffling painfully to the door.
I followed her out to the sea of darkness bobbing with torches and ghostly faces. In the lead the village reverend stepped forward, his mouth a slash of contempt.
What business do you have with us so late at night, Reverend Winthrop? my mother asked politely. Have you come to pay a call upon the sick, for that is what I am. A victim of a hunters arrow.
I am sorry for your hardship, Reverend Winthrop said. But I am here on a mission from the Almighty Father. I have come to take your daughter to prison, Síle. On the morrow she will be tried as a witch.
It cannot be! my mother protested.
No! I cried. I clutched my belly, buckling to my knees. A witch! How could it be that these people knew of my love for the Goddess? I had moved stealthily, attending church on Sundays and always careful not to speak of my true life around the villagers. A coldness overcame me as I stared out at them, my tears blurring their faces.
How could it be?
Upon whose order do you take her? my mother demanded.
The reverend did not answer. But someone stepped forward from the crowdSiobhan!
Upon my word! she shouted. I know her to be a witch, and I will testify against her.
No! I pleaded.Tis not fair. She hates me! She wants to have revenge!
But no one seemed to hear my cries as the men stepped forward and grabbed me by the shoulders. Brusquely they bound my wrists behind me and shoved me away from the cottage.
No! I cried, turning back to see Ma huddled at the doorway. Ma! Please!
But she merely watched me go with a stricken expression on her face. She held out a hand to me, as if I could clasp on and save myself from drowning.
But I could not. I marched off to prison, my heart hammering with fear that this was truly my death march. Because of Siobhan, I had been named as a witch. And no one, no one in the Highlands, had ever faced those charges and escaped alive.
On the morning of my trial a guard woke me and roughly ushered me into a cottage near the village center. I hoped they were bringing me to the table to break my fast, but when I saw the minister, Reverend Winthrop, along with a stout, bearded man, I reared back in fear.
Dr. Wellington is here to examine you for the mark of the devil, Rose MacEwan, said the reverend. Off with your gown.
The guard at the door crossed his arms, smiling at me.
I had never been ashamed of my body, having been raised among circles of unclad witches, but to go naked before such hostile eyes. I began to tremble. Would he realize that I was with child? If he did, twould prejudice the town against me.
I cannot, I said, folding my arms across my chest protectively.
Balderdash! the reverend shouted. He stepped forward and tore at the collar of my gown. Remove your clothes, and Ill remind you to make haste, for your trial is upon us.
No! I shrieked, trying to pull away from him. I felt like a trapped animal; there was no way out. Closing my eyes, I began to take off my gown.
I stood there naked, feeling their lust and hatred swirl around me. Something jabbed at my buttocks, and I opened my eyes to see the physician jabbing at me with a stick, as if I were chattel in a field. Keeping his distance, he touched my buttocks, my thighs, my belly, my breasts. Humiliation burned in my throat, and I closed my eyes again.
I could not tell whether he knew I was with child. At this point the mound at my belly was quite pronounced and my breasts were swollen with milk, but I wasnt sure this physician knew the realities of a womans body. His examination seemed more motivated by lust than professional interest.
And thus I began the day of my trial, naked before three peculiar men. After that I was allowed to dress and given a bowl of gruel, which I gobbled up eagerly. It was not enough food to sustain my babe, and I wondered if there would be more at lunch.
After breakfast I was dragged out to the center of our village, where I was tied rather barbarically to a hitching post. Villagers were free to assemble around me and witness the nightmare, and most of the villagers I saw every Sunday in church were in attendance. Among the faces gathered there, I saw the members of our coventhe MacGreavys, Norn, Aislinn, and the others. Ma was there, leaning gingerly on Miller MacGreavys cart. I spied Meara with two of the little ones in tow, and I wondered if she was their ma now. Kyra and Falkner were conspicuously absent, but I suspected that their parents had been fearful for their safety. If the village reverend started to get greedy, he might look for others who were guilty by association.
Standing in the center of the village, sweating under the late August sun and the scrutiny of so-called holy men, I felt horribly exposed. An alarming odor filled the air, something I could not identify. Was it a burning herb?
No, I thought, swallowing against the biting taste in my throat. Its the smell of fear. My fear.
Reverend Winthrop began talking to the crowd, telling of evils prevailing among us. I was trying to listen, trying to create a defense in my mind when I saw someone moving through the crowda lean, solid figure.
Diarmuid!
I felt my life force rising as he turned toward me. Our eyes locked, and I could feel it in the air between us. He still loved me. He had come to tell me that and to free me from these charges. He would come forward during the trial and rescue me. I closed my eyes and focused on sending him a message. Diarmuid would rescue me once again. This would all be over soon.
Youve come to save me!I told him in a tua labra. I knew you would come for me.
I waited for an answer.
But all I heard was the voice of the reverend accusing me of being a witch. Coming upon her at the brook one morning, I saw her conducting what must certainly be a pagan ritual, he said in his whiny voice.
I suddenly recalled the morning when Id heard someone on the path. The morning after Beltane, when Id slipped off my clothes for a thorough cleansing.
I was washing, I said, looking out at the crowd for validation. Do not most maidens bathe upon rising?
Without a stitch of clothing? Reverend Winthrop asked.
A few of the Presbyterians snickered, as if hed made a coarse joke.
Why do you laugh, when most of you could use a thorough cleansing in the river? Ma said, standing tall. The crowd grew silent. Or is that odor the stench of hysteria? For I have yet to see a person so accused treated fairly in these Highlands.
The minister folded his arms, appraising my mother. Woman, what is your claim here? This is a formal inquisition.
I am the mother of Rose MacEwan, and I know her to be a kind and noble child, Síle said. Her hair was covered by a modest veil, her voice filled with a fortitude that belied her injury. Whatever evil you have charged her with is false, I swear a solemn oath to that. And I charge you to release her and return her to her proper home.
It was dangerous for anyone to speak in my defense, but Ma had been willing to take that chance. In some ways, I knew I didnt deserve it. Pressing one hand against the child in my belly, I marveled at how deep a mothers love could run.
Reverend Winthrop puckered his lips, as if Síles words had left a sour taste in his mouth. These are the words of her mother, he announced formally. Although Ive yet to know a mother who clearly sees her childs true flaws.
I turned to Diarmuid and sent him an urgent message: The man shows disrespect toward my mother! I wanted to say. Step forward and set him aright! But now he was watching the reverend, pretending not to understand me.