By Cordelia's calculation, the spell should be cast at the very end of a waning moon, just before its light faded completely from the sky. That would definitely happen too soon this month, and possibly the next month's new moon was also too soon. The month after?
"You're putting it off. You want her to feel your fear and grow afraid in waiting, but she won't."
So it was set for the month after next. Anne and Cordelia both had lists of things to collect. Each item was spelled, either in collection of after it arrived at the apartment. In addition, Cordelia led Anne through a series of mystic exercises, to ready them for the final casting and ensure that they could work together. Each became quieter and quieter as the deadline approached. Even Patch could find little beyond, "you're afraid," to say.
The day of the spell, Anne skipped school. She and Cordelia cleaned in an inward spiral, first the walkways around the building, then the herb beds, then the apartment walls, outside and in, then the kitchenette and bath, then in a spiral that ended at the coffee table. Then they cleansed themselves, first by washing and then by other means.
"If there is anything you need to say, any fear or douby that might interfere with your concentration, speak it now." Cordelia was braiding herbs and ribbons into Anne's hair.
"Nothing specific. And nothing . . . well, it would be silly after all we've done. But I keep wanting to say that you don't need to do this. I mean, if there's really a reason not to."
"I need to do this. It needs to be done and if I don't do it, the only reason would be my own cowardice. And I need not to be a coward. I also need to not talk about it. And I need your trust. I need you to trust that I can do this and tell you why I was afraid later."
"Do you need me to braid your hair?"
So they began. All of the components and participants were dedicated to the spell. Then they stood and meditated, allowing the feel of the interactions within the spell to become part of them, feeling and understanding the spell in a loose form before tightening it up.
The hours of meditation were difficult for Anne because she was unpracticed and because it was contrary to her personality. They were difficult for Cordelia for other reasons. Silently each woman worked to master herself within the spell.
When Anne was settled into the spell, she laid down on the table. When Cordelia was ready, she lifted the tooth. Slowly, again and again, each component was dedicated and rededicated to the spell. Power sang in the room as the spell tightened, knotting probability into truth. Anne concentrated on the words and on holding herself still as something reached through her to tear the heart out of the universe.
---------------
"I feel so disconnected. I remember once we came down a mountain while I was asleep in the car. I woke with my ears hurting and mother told me to pop my ears. I thought she was nuts. But I yawned, like she showed me, and there was a whining roar and the pressure stopped. And I could hear better, but for awhile hearing seemed like a very strange thing. Now it feels like I've popped all of me. Everything seems strange."
"Everything is different. You're different. You're also exhausted. Hit the buttons on the microwave and the oven. That's chicken noodle soup and muffins. There's jam and butter in the refrigerator and honey in the cupboard. I'll clear away in here. We'll drop the wards tomorrow morning."
"Okay. What's Patch screeching about?"
"I don't know. You see, magpies are very difficult to familiarize. I think I only succeeded because my mother believed that I could do anything. It's very likely . . . "
There was a crash in the kitchen. Anne rounded the partition wall, looking stricken. She stopped and sputtered in place, burdened with too many conflicting questions. Part of her wanted to hug Cordelia, but Cordelia would plainly not welcome that.
"Was that the honey or the jam?"
"JAM?! What did we just do?"
"Wee plugged the motherleak. Mothers, in fact all witches, can still spell children, they just can't do it unconsciously any more. It's been discussed before. But it's so convenient to the lineages and there are so few people qualified to complain when it goes wrong. No one has had reason to interfere. We will adjust. We will also eat. You clean out there, I'll clean in here."
---------------
It was a week before Anne came to Cordelia's again.
"You know things would be easier if you had a phone. I've been grounded for missing school. That's not what she's mad at me for, but it was the only excuse she had. Feel." Anne held out her non-sticky wrist. Cordelia felt politely.
"Very nice."
"And I've been just singing with energy." Anne bounced in place, for demonstration. "I think Mom must have been dampening my talent, through the leak. I feel like I'm ready to burst, sometimes."
Anne's eyes misted with sympathy, considering the difference in their situations.
"Guilty?"
"Yes. No. Well, what am I supposed to feel? Mostly confused is my best guess. Are you all right? Can I help?"
"Yes. And I can help you. I'm going to need to go back and review all the spellcasting I know, to see how it has changed. You have never been systematically taught and need to learn to control your hightened energy level. If we review together, we can act as each other's spotters. I reserve the role of teacher, due to greater experience, though you will probably be the more powerful before we are finished. Is this agreeable to you?"
"Sure. I was hoping we could work something out. I owe you one."
"No. It needed to be done. I've always known it."
Anne and Cordelia quieted their conversation as a man in slacks, shirt, and tie pushed a moped past Cordelia's walk. He nodded a gave a little wave as he passed. Anne turned to see Cordelia smiling.
"Friend?"
"No. Just a neighbor. Although I remember my mother saying that I wasn't very interested in boys, that I was more interested in the craft. Perhaps she said something about boys not noticing me much, as well. Anyway, things have been different this week. Witchcraft isn't the only thing that I'm going to have to reexplore."
"Ooo. We're going to have to get you a honey." Anne clapped her hands in glee. "And we'll have to get me a familiar. I can have a familiar, can't I?
"We'll see. Neither of us needs to hurry."
"Cool. This is going to be good."
"Or not. It should at least be interesting. We'll deal with it."
Showing posts with label Sharper Than a Serpent's Truth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sharper Than a Serpent's Truth. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Thirty-Seventh Beginning: Sharper Than a Serpent's Truth 04
It was noon before they got to the zoo, bus scheduled being what they were, Once there, Anne followed Cordelia glumly. Anne was soothed by talk and Cordelia refused to join in or listen. She walked the zoo grounds in patterns, not looking at any of the animals, eyes on a zoo map.
"Can I get a hot dog? I'm starved."
"Yes. Stay there. I'll join you."
"I don't know where one is, exactly."
"You'll find it. I'll find you."
Anne left Cordelia to her pacing. She found a vendor nearby, but passed him to find a snack bar farther on. It was less comfortable, but she was in a grumpy mood and wanted Cordelia to have to look.
She didn't. When she came, she sailed straight in without looking around. She might have been blind. She sat and began to mark the map.
"We're going to walk a labyrinth pattern. I had to find one that would fit around the local barriers. We'll have to walk through a couple of flower beds and hop a short fence, but we won't go into any compounds. We start here and end here."
"They'll think we're nuts, but what else is new? Hey, that's the reptile house."
"Just outside it. Ready?"
"Sure. Let's go."
"Ignore your mood. Labyrinths always breed despair or anger or whatever is most likely to stop you."
"So this isn't just me?"
"No. Not entirely. If you've never done magic at this depth before, you're probably also nervous."
"I'm doing magic?"
"You're me focus. I tie the spells to your mother through the "curse" she has on you. It will be uncomfortable. You'll feel very sticky. Your talent will react to the flow, but it will be easiest for all of us if you can keep yourself still."
"Relax and be a drain pipe, huh?"
"Beats a leach field."
"A what?"
"Never mind. I'm sorry to be so distant, but this is hard for me. That's why we're doing it so quickly. I almost decided not to do it at all. I still might back out. You'd never know. It just wouldn't work, and it might not work in any case."
"What! Why?" The hot dogs in Anne's stomach started barking and straining at their leashes.
"I'll tell you when it's over. . . when it works."
Anne frowned, but nodded. "Let's go," she said. They went.
--------------
The center of the labyrinth was the crocodile pond. Anne fidgeted, cramping with emotion as Cordelia waited stonily for no one to be watching. Elsewhere in the zoo, a flower bed was two hot dogs richer.
At last they were unobserved for a moment and Cordelia lobbed the rat into the pond. It was immediately swallowed.
"Whoah!" Oh, I can't believe what a relief that is!" Anne smiled at Cordelia, buoyant again. "Let's get some hot dogs."
"Yes. Then we have to find a place to hide."
"Hide?"
"Yes. We have to pull one of her teeth tonight."
"Excuse me? Pull her tooth? Are you nuts? And how do you know it's a her?"
"It's a her because that's the point to all of this. See that pile of vegetation? That's her nest. Her eggs are in it. The composting action provides heat, which a crocodile can't provide, while the mother guards the nest. Crocodilians are the only reptiles to exhibit mothering behavior."
"Crocodilians?"
"The family: crocodiles, alligators, caimans, garials . . . Alligators have all of their teeth in their mouths. You can't reach them when their mouths are shut. But a crocodile's shout has a jag in it. A couple of teeth stick out even when the mouth is held shut."
"Held shut? And who holds it shut?"
"You do. I'll be holding the spelled pliers. Holding a croc's mouth open is hard, because its biting muscles are strong. But its opening muscles are weak. In fact, they mostly tilt back their heads and let their jaws fall open. It's easy to hold it shut, or it would be if there weren't the rest of the croc to deal with. Still, the rat should help."
"Are you nuts?"
"Do you want to back out? The tooth is necessary. And getting it will be easier than using it."
"Easier?"
"Sure. Two witches against one little lizard?"
"Little?"
"Less than twelve feet. Maybe you are only dabbling in the craft because you want a stronger family life."
Anne glared at Cordelia. This time it was Cordelia who smiled. "I don't want to do this. If you back out, I'm relieved."
"Let's get those hot dogs."
-------------
It was harder than Cordelia had said, but easier than Anne had feared. They did it on firm, open ground, Cordelia distracting and leading the beast and Anne pouncing when it walked by, ignoring her. She used the hold Cordelia had explained and only had to wrestle it for a few hours before Cordelia was able to stroke its belly and quiet it.
"That was ten minutes, tops. But you did well."
"What? How did you know what I was thinking?"
"Patch. There. He has an invasive mind. And he's rude. Now hold her mouth. She won't like this. Remember we have to wrestle her still again and maneuver her over to the fence before we let go. She's not spelled."
"Why does she hold still?"
"She likes belly rubs. Now turn her head and hold on tight."
The first wrestle may have only lasted ten minutes, but it was a good two hours before they had both the tooth and the mother of hatching reptiles positioned by the fence. Cordelia climbed the bars, then leaned back to give Anne a hand to grab. Anne decided to stand on the croc's shoulder and nose.
"Are you sure that's wise?"
"This will lift me up higher. I'll be farther away when I let goooo!"
Anne yodeled as the croc stood and flexed, ready to buck her off. Without thinking, she released and jumped, landing high up on the fence. She paused to relax, thinking herself safe.
"No!" Cordelia yelled, hauling Anne up and over. The croc's jaws snapped where her legs had been. The two women collapsed on the safe side of the fence.
"You didn't say they could jump," Anne panted.
"I said don't stop once you let go."
"Is it over?"
"This is. We have a few more things to collect, but nothing dangerous. Then we calculate the best time for the spell. Then we cast it."
"And this was the easy part?"
"You have no idea. A spell of this magnitude - it will feel like I'm tearing out the heart of the universe by tearing out my heart, and yours, and your mother's. Reality doesn't shift easily. Neither does illusion, come to that."
The women stayed flopped where they'd landed until their breathing slowed. They were wet and scraped and bruised and exhausted. They smelled of crocodile and rotting vegetation. Only fear of cramped muscles got them up and stretching before much time had passed.
"If I swell where I'm bruised, I'll have to buy a D cup."
"What time does the next bus leave?"
"Are you nuts? No, forget I asked." Anne hauled a soggy, battered bus schedule out of her back pocket and walked to the nearest light. Many minutes later she declared, "None of the ones that stop here are still running. There's a bus due on Main in half an hour, but that's at least a two mile walk."
"Witchcraft," said Cordelia, "helps build strong bodies twelve ways."
Anne shook her head and wadded up the schedule. "That sounds like a commercial," she said, heading for the locked main gate.
"It was," said Cordelia. "You're just too young to have heard it."
They argued all the way to Cordelia's apartment over who got the first shower. In the end, they piled in together with their clothes on, washing and stripping and hanging things out to dry in an uncoordinated duet. They stumbled to the futon couch wrapped on towels and almost didn't have the strenggth or wit to lay it out before sprawling on it and falling asleep.
-------------
"You know," said Anne in the morning, as Cordelia tended her wounds, "the saddest thing was that we weren't the shabbiest or smelliest people on that bus."
"She is proud of herself. Proud of you both. She is afraid for her mother." Patch flipped his feathers.
"Your mother probably felt us walk the labyrinth. And there's a connection between her and the tooth, now. It may feel unsettling."
"Will it hurt her?" Anne was subdued.
"Physically, no. Emotionally, she will feel a pang when her cursing pipeline is disconnected. I'm told all mothers feel that pang when they realize their baby is grown."
"No more than that?"
"In the end. While the spell is being case she will feel an echo of what we feel. Which is one of the reasons we'll be sure to do it while she sleeps. That will dampen the effect."
"Good."
"Will she worry over your scrapes and bruises?"
"Nah. I get these all the time." Anne smiled.
"She is proud. She is proud."
"I'd better scoot. She'll freak if I miss school."
"Drop by after, if you can. I'll have a list and a spell schedule."
"It's going to feel good to have this over, you know? You have no idea what it's like."
"No. I don't."
-----------------------
"Can I get a hot dog? I'm starved."
"Yes. Stay there. I'll join you."
"I don't know where one is, exactly."
"You'll find it. I'll find you."
Anne left Cordelia to her pacing. She found a vendor nearby, but passed him to find a snack bar farther on. It was less comfortable, but she was in a grumpy mood and wanted Cordelia to have to look.
She didn't. When she came, she sailed straight in without looking around. She might have been blind. She sat and began to mark the map.
"We're going to walk a labyrinth pattern. I had to find one that would fit around the local barriers. We'll have to walk through a couple of flower beds and hop a short fence, but we won't go into any compounds. We start here and end here."
"They'll think we're nuts, but what else is new? Hey, that's the reptile house."
"Just outside it. Ready?"
"Sure. Let's go."
"Ignore your mood. Labyrinths always breed despair or anger or whatever is most likely to stop you."
"So this isn't just me?"
"No. Not entirely. If you've never done magic at this depth before, you're probably also nervous."
"I'm doing magic?"
"You're me focus. I tie the spells to your mother through the "curse" she has on you. It will be uncomfortable. You'll feel very sticky. Your talent will react to the flow, but it will be easiest for all of us if you can keep yourself still."
"Relax and be a drain pipe, huh?"
"Beats a leach field."
"A what?"
"Never mind. I'm sorry to be so distant, but this is hard for me. That's why we're doing it so quickly. I almost decided not to do it at all. I still might back out. You'd never know. It just wouldn't work, and it might not work in any case."
"What! Why?" The hot dogs in Anne's stomach started barking and straining at their leashes.
"I'll tell you when it's over. . . when it works."
Anne frowned, but nodded. "Let's go," she said. They went.
--------------
The center of the labyrinth was the crocodile pond. Anne fidgeted, cramping with emotion as Cordelia waited stonily for no one to be watching. Elsewhere in the zoo, a flower bed was two hot dogs richer.
At last they were unobserved for a moment and Cordelia lobbed the rat into the pond. It was immediately swallowed.
"Whoah!" Oh, I can't believe what a relief that is!" Anne smiled at Cordelia, buoyant again. "Let's get some hot dogs."
"Yes. Then we have to find a place to hide."
"Hide?"
"Yes. We have to pull one of her teeth tonight."
"Excuse me? Pull her tooth? Are you nuts? And how do you know it's a her?"
"It's a her because that's the point to all of this. See that pile of vegetation? That's her nest. Her eggs are in it. The composting action provides heat, which a crocodile can't provide, while the mother guards the nest. Crocodilians are the only reptiles to exhibit mothering behavior."
"Crocodilians?"
"The family: crocodiles, alligators, caimans, garials . . . Alligators have all of their teeth in their mouths. You can't reach them when their mouths are shut. But a crocodile's shout has a jag in it. A couple of teeth stick out even when the mouth is held shut."
"Held shut? And who holds it shut?"
"You do. I'll be holding the spelled pliers. Holding a croc's mouth open is hard, because its biting muscles are strong. But its opening muscles are weak. In fact, they mostly tilt back their heads and let their jaws fall open. It's easy to hold it shut, or it would be if there weren't the rest of the croc to deal with. Still, the rat should help."
"Are you nuts?"
"Do you want to back out? The tooth is necessary. And getting it will be easier than using it."
"Easier?"
"Sure. Two witches against one little lizard?"
"Little?"
"Less than twelve feet. Maybe you are only dabbling in the craft because you want a stronger family life."
Anne glared at Cordelia. This time it was Cordelia who smiled. "I don't want to do this. If you back out, I'm relieved."
"Let's get those hot dogs."
-------------
It was harder than Cordelia had said, but easier than Anne had feared. They did it on firm, open ground, Cordelia distracting and leading the beast and Anne pouncing when it walked by, ignoring her. She used the hold Cordelia had explained and only had to wrestle it for a few hours before Cordelia was able to stroke its belly and quiet it.
"That was ten minutes, tops. But you did well."
"What? How did you know what I was thinking?"
"Patch. There. He has an invasive mind. And he's rude. Now hold her mouth. She won't like this. Remember we have to wrestle her still again and maneuver her over to the fence before we let go. She's not spelled."
"Why does she hold still?"
"She likes belly rubs. Now turn her head and hold on tight."
The first wrestle may have only lasted ten minutes, but it was a good two hours before they had both the tooth and the mother of hatching reptiles positioned by the fence. Cordelia climbed the bars, then leaned back to give Anne a hand to grab. Anne decided to stand on the croc's shoulder and nose.
"Are you sure that's wise?"
"This will lift me up higher. I'll be farther away when I let goooo!"
Anne yodeled as the croc stood and flexed, ready to buck her off. Without thinking, she released and jumped, landing high up on the fence. She paused to relax, thinking herself safe.
"No!" Cordelia yelled, hauling Anne up and over. The croc's jaws snapped where her legs had been. The two women collapsed on the safe side of the fence.
"You didn't say they could jump," Anne panted.
"I said don't stop once you let go."
"Is it over?"
"This is. We have a few more things to collect, but nothing dangerous. Then we calculate the best time for the spell. Then we cast it."
"And this was the easy part?"
"You have no idea. A spell of this magnitude - it will feel like I'm tearing out the heart of the universe by tearing out my heart, and yours, and your mother's. Reality doesn't shift easily. Neither does illusion, come to that."
The women stayed flopped where they'd landed until their breathing slowed. They were wet and scraped and bruised and exhausted. They smelled of crocodile and rotting vegetation. Only fear of cramped muscles got them up and stretching before much time had passed.
"If I swell where I'm bruised, I'll have to buy a D cup."
"What time does the next bus leave?"
"Are you nuts? No, forget I asked." Anne hauled a soggy, battered bus schedule out of her back pocket and walked to the nearest light. Many minutes later she declared, "None of the ones that stop here are still running. There's a bus due on Main in half an hour, but that's at least a two mile walk."
"Witchcraft," said Cordelia, "helps build strong bodies twelve ways."
Anne shook her head and wadded up the schedule. "That sounds like a commercial," she said, heading for the locked main gate.
"It was," said Cordelia. "You're just too young to have heard it."
They argued all the way to Cordelia's apartment over who got the first shower. In the end, they piled in together with their clothes on, washing and stripping and hanging things out to dry in an uncoordinated duet. They stumbled to the futon couch wrapped on towels and almost didn't have the strenggth or wit to lay it out before sprawling on it and falling asleep.
-------------
"You know," said Anne in the morning, as Cordelia tended her wounds, "the saddest thing was that we weren't the shabbiest or smelliest people on that bus."
"She is proud of herself. Proud of you both. She is afraid for her mother." Patch flipped his feathers.
"Your mother probably felt us walk the labyrinth. And there's a connection between her and the tooth, now. It may feel unsettling."
"Will it hurt her?" Anne was subdued.
"Physically, no. Emotionally, she will feel a pang when her cursing pipeline is disconnected. I'm told all mothers feel that pang when they realize their baby is grown."
"No more than that?"
"In the end. While the spell is being case she will feel an echo of what we feel. Which is one of the reasons we'll be sure to do it while she sleeps. That will dampen the effect."
"Good."
"Will she worry over your scrapes and bruises?"
"Nah. I get these all the time." Anne smiled.
"She is proud. She is proud."
"I'd better scoot. She'll freak if I miss school."
"Drop by after, if you can. I'll have a list and a spell schedule."
"It's going to feel good to have this over, you know? You have no idea what it's like."
"No. I don't."
-----------------------
Friday, June 28, 2013
Thirty-Seventh Beginning: Sharper Than a Serpent's Truth 03
Anne's backpack was lighter the next time she came. And she brought potato salad rather than sandwiches. She chattered as they worked. Her chatter was more soothing than Patch's chatter; which was, at a deeper level, more disturbing.
It was nearly dark when she left with a backpack full of spelled items and instructions. Patch was silent, which should have been a warning. Cordelia's nightmares began that night.
------------------
"You lost a baby," Patch croaked in the morning. Cordelia had tried and failed to remember the nightmare. How fortunate that Patch could remind her. "It cried. It was gone. The waves came."
Yes. She remembered. She was going to drown if she stayed. It was going to drown if she left. But she could never find it so it would drown anyway. But she couldn't leave.
---------------
Anne came after school. They reviewed family histories. Anne was astounded that Cordelia's mother was a witch. It was beyond her experience.
"Yes. She's proud of me for carrying on the family tradition. She thinks there's nothing I can't do."
There was no sign of the wards working. Anne left to stay at a friend's house. That night another nightmare came.
-----------------
"You lost a baby." The magic voice seemed to lodge behind Cordelia's throbbing eyes. "It cried. It was gone. The winds came. Oh, yes.
The sinds had howled that they had stolen her baby. They would trade it for her heart. Cordelia had pulled out her heart, which was a seed; but her heart cracked in her hands and the shell was empty. With nothing to trade, she had howled into the wind. The wind had howled itslef away, taking even the hound of her baby's cried.
"She is here," Patch announced before Cordelia was completely detached from the dream.
------------------
Cordelia was barely dressed before the knock came on the door. Anne was outside holding a flat of seedlings.
"I'm sorry. Is it too early for a Saturday? These are mostly climbers and runners. I brought string for the climbers, and I thought the runners would fit in those gaps in the sidewalk.
"It's not too early. I'm usually out here my now. I had a bad dream."
"You, too? I kad a doozy. I was killing my mother but she wouldn't die. I tried to pack her in a crate to bury, or something, but I couldn't put on the lid because there was always an arm or a leg or - something grosser - in the way. No matter how I tucked her in, she kept sticking out. And the police were coming. It was wild."
"I'll get my trowel. Do you want some orange juice?"
They worked all day: on the garden, on cleaning the apartment, on maintaining the apartment's basic wards. They discussed spells and familiars and the established lineages of witches.
Over their meals, Anne chatted about friends and clothes and music. Anne liked Patch. This was aided, of course, by the fact that she couldn't hear him. Some of the comments he had made as she discussed her friends would have ended that real quick.
At last she left. They decided, at the door, to give it one more day before declaring the spells a failure.
"You know they failed. They all failed."
"Do you know you have the voice of a toad? A gravel toad? It's not birdlike at all."
"You won't do it. You're afraid."
--------------
That night Cordelia awoke at the end of the nightmare, remembering it all. Patch still slept. She had heard her child crying from the ground. She had removed her heart, thinking to offer a trade; but when it broke, she used the empty shell as a scoop to dig with. She had uncovered her mother's face. As the wails of her child rang within her mother's dead body, Cordelia had held out the shell of her heart, confused. When she looked down, the shell was a bowl made of a human's skull and filled with blood, and her mother and child were gone.
She woke expecting that something might come and drink, sometime, if she continued, but not knowing what.
---------------------
She was ready when Anne came. "We're going to the zoo," she said. "Here's the bus schedule."
"I brought muffins," Anne said. She looked wan, again, but didn't complain.
"I can't eat yet," said Cordelia. "I made this at dawn." She held up a dead rat, festooned with a pattern of tied colored threads. Anne could feel the magic it had been stuffed with. It was beyond anything she had experienced so far.
"Time to punt," she quipped, swallowing.
"Time to blitz," Cordelia corrected. "Time to sack the quarterback."
It was nearly dark when she left with a backpack full of spelled items and instructions. Patch was silent, which should have been a warning. Cordelia's nightmares began that night.
------------------
"You lost a baby," Patch croaked in the morning. Cordelia had tried and failed to remember the nightmare. How fortunate that Patch could remind her. "It cried. It was gone. The waves came."
Yes. She remembered. She was going to drown if she stayed. It was going to drown if she left. But she could never find it so it would drown anyway. But she couldn't leave.
---------------
Anne came after school. They reviewed family histories. Anne was astounded that Cordelia's mother was a witch. It was beyond her experience.
"Yes. She's proud of me for carrying on the family tradition. She thinks there's nothing I can't do."
There was no sign of the wards working. Anne left to stay at a friend's house. That night another nightmare came.
-----------------
"You lost a baby." The magic voice seemed to lodge behind Cordelia's throbbing eyes. "It cried. It was gone. The winds came. Oh, yes.
The sinds had howled that they had stolen her baby. They would trade it for her heart. Cordelia had pulled out her heart, which was a seed; but her heart cracked in her hands and the shell was empty. With nothing to trade, she had howled into the wind. The wind had howled itslef away, taking even the hound of her baby's cried.
"She is here," Patch announced before Cordelia was completely detached from the dream.
------------------
Cordelia was barely dressed before the knock came on the door. Anne was outside holding a flat of seedlings.
"I'm sorry. Is it too early for a Saturday? These are mostly climbers and runners. I brought string for the climbers, and I thought the runners would fit in those gaps in the sidewalk.
"It's not too early. I'm usually out here my now. I had a bad dream."
"You, too? I kad a doozy. I was killing my mother but she wouldn't die. I tried to pack her in a crate to bury, or something, but I couldn't put on the lid because there was always an arm or a leg or - something grosser - in the way. No matter how I tucked her in, she kept sticking out. And the police were coming. It was wild."
"I'll get my trowel. Do you want some orange juice?"
They worked all day: on the garden, on cleaning the apartment, on maintaining the apartment's basic wards. They discussed spells and familiars and the established lineages of witches.
Over their meals, Anne chatted about friends and clothes and music. Anne liked Patch. This was aided, of course, by the fact that she couldn't hear him. Some of the comments he had made as she discussed her friends would have ended that real quick.
At last she left. They decided, at the door, to give it one more day before declaring the spells a failure.
"You know they failed. They all failed."
"Do you know you have the voice of a toad? A gravel toad? It's not birdlike at all."
"You won't do it. You're afraid."
--------------
That night Cordelia awoke at the end of the nightmare, remembering it all. Patch still slept. She had heard her child crying from the ground. She had removed her heart, thinking to offer a trade; but when it broke, she used the empty shell as a scoop to dig with. She had uncovered her mother's face. As the wails of her child rang within her mother's dead body, Cordelia had held out the shell of her heart, confused. When she looked down, the shell was a bowl made of a human's skull and filled with blood, and her mother and child were gone.
She woke expecting that something might come and drink, sometime, if she continued, but not knowing what.
---------------------
She was ready when Anne came. "We're going to the zoo," she said. "Here's the bus schedule."
"I brought muffins," Anne said. She looked wan, again, but didn't complain.
"I can't eat yet," said Cordelia. "I made this at dawn." She held up a dead rat, festooned with a pattern of tied colored threads. Anne could feel the magic it had been stuffed with. It was beyond anything she had experienced so far.
"Time to punt," she quipped, swallowing.
"Time to blitz," Cordelia corrected. "Time to sack the quarterback."
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Thirty-Seventh Beginning: Sharper Than a Serpent's Truth 02
Anne returned, as Patch had predicted. She knocked politely and waited to be asked in. She unloaded all her bits and pieces onto the kitchen counter. She unwrapped some from cloths or papers and lined them up, in order, referring to the list. She was smiling so contentedly that she actually hummed from time to time. There was an unheedful forcefullness to her. Cordelia pictured broken furniture.
At the end of her unpacking, Anne took a packet of sandwiches and a thermos from a side pouch. She stowed these on the kitchen table, kicked the empty backpack under the table, and handed the list to Cordelia, flipping it over as she did.
"I wrote the information you wanted on the back. Did I miss anything?"
Cordelia surveyed the collection. "No." She took the list to the living room and began to collect books. "We'll beging with the information. I don't expect anything we do today to have much effect. But in witchcraft, simplest is best. The less you interfere with things as they are, the less things can go wrong and the fewer the side effects."
For a girl who could shrug off her talent and get on with life, Anne watched Cordelia closely. At times it was obvious that she was biting off questions. Cordelia began to explain as she went along.
Anne's mother's horoscope revealed no obvious weaknesses or handholds. At least, none that Amily had not already found. They progressed through a series of minor bindings and banishings and wards. Cordelia was careful to use all of the components that Anne had collected. No need to insult the girl. In the end, of course, everything failed.
"Well, we know that nothing simple will work. I didn't expect that it would, but it would have been much easier if it had."
"No problem. I'm only out a couple of weeks. I got rid of the tracts, too. That eased it a bit, temporarily. I'm still sticky, though. Do I have to keep that?"
"As an indicator, yes. When we hit something that works we'll feel the curse fade."
"We will? I will? Cool! What do we try next?"
"The next phase is a little more complicated, but around the same energy level. We're going to try area effects. The bond between a mother and child is strong. It's also reinforced by a woman's power in the home she has made. We're going to plant wards and bindings and commands in and around your mother's home. Can you stay out of the house for a few days after they're planted?"
"Sure. Could I stay here?"
"Only during the day."
"Cool! Is it likely to work?"
"Not within the house. But we might get lucky and free you outside. If we only disrupt it a little, you may have to move."
"She'd have a cow over that."
"Which might distract her from the tracts."
"Maybe." Anne bit her lip.
"This next list will be less exact. I'll describe the kind of thing we need and you'll have to decide which article best fits. They can't be things she'd miss immediately, though."
This time Cordelia escorted Anne out.
"It might take longer to get this stuff."
"That's fine. I thought it would take you at least a month to collect the last batch."
"Really?" Anne was flattered.
"Really. Take your time. Come here if you need to for acute attacks."
"Cool."
The bounce in Anne's step as she left made her look as if she were dancing - or galloping. Patch flew to Cordelia's shoulder.
"You're going to lose her," the bird croaked. "you'll be no use to her when this is over." The bird flew outside, leaving Cordelia stunned. Patch was right, of course. Cordelia hadn't realized that she wanted the girl to stay. It was surprising how much harder that made things.
"You won't help her," patch called back. "She'll leave if you do. You'll keep her hanging."
Cordelia slammed the door, shutting her familiar out.
---------------
At the end of her unpacking, Anne took a packet of sandwiches and a thermos from a side pouch. She stowed these on the kitchen table, kicked the empty backpack under the table, and handed the list to Cordelia, flipping it over as she did.
"I wrote the information you wanted on the back. Did I miss anything?"
Cordelia surveyed the collection. "No." She took the list to the living room and began to collect books. "We'll beging with the information. I don't expect anything we do today to have much effect. But in witchcraft, simplest is best. The less you interfere with things as they are, the less things can go wrong and the fewer the side effects."
For a girl who could shrug off her talent and get on with life, Anne watched Cordelia closely. At times it was obvious that she was biting off questions. Cordelia began to explain as she went along.
Anne's mother's horoscope revealed no obvious weaknesses or handholds. At least, none that Amily had not already found. They progressed through a series of minor bindings and banishings and wards. Cordelia was careful to use all of the components that Anne had collected. No need to insult the girl. In the end, of course, everything failed.
"Well, we know that nothing simple will work. I didn't expect that it would, but it would have been much easier if it had."
"No problem. I'm only out a couple of weeks. I got rid of the tracts, too. That eased it a bit, temporarily. I'm still sticky, though. Do I have to keep that?"
"As an indicator, yes. When we hit something that works we'll feel the curse fade."
"We will? I will? Cool! What do we try next?"
"The next phase is a little more complicated, but around the same energy level. We're going to try area effects. The bond between a mother and child is strong. It's also reinforced by a woman's power in the home she has made. We're going to plant wards and bindings and commands in and around your mother's home. Can you stay out of the house for a few days after they're planted?"
"Sure. Could I stay here?"
"Only during the day."
"Cool! Is it likely to work?"
"Not within the house. But we might get lucky and free you outside. If we only disrupt it a little, you may have to move."
"She'd have a cow over that."
"Which might distract her from the tracts."
"Maybe." Anne bit her lip.
"This next list will be less exact. I'll describe the kind of thing we need and you'll have to decide which article best fits. They can't be things she'd miss immediately, though."
This time Cordelia escorted Anne out.
"It might take longer to get this stuff."
"That's fine. I thought it would take you at least a month to collect the last batch."
"Really?" Anne was flattered.
"Really. Take your time. Come here if you need to for acute attacks."
"Cool."
The bounce in Anne's step as she left made her look as if she were dancing - or galloping. Patch flew to Cordelia's shoulder.
"You're going to lose her," the bird croaked. "you'll be no use to her when this is over." The bird flew outside, leaving Cordelia stunned. Patch was right, of course. Cordelia hadn't realized that she wanted the girl to stay. It was surprising how much harder that made things.
"You won't help her," patch called back. "She'll leave if you do. You'll keep her hanging."
Cordelia slammed the door, shutting her familiar out.
---------------
Thirty-Seventh Beginning: Sharper Than a Serpent's Truth
"Look, I know you have to be cautious and you don't know me and all, but I'm desperate. You have to help."
The young woman could easily be attractive, Cordelia thought. She was tall and her movements had an athletic grace that wasn't quite hidden by her drooping lassitude. Her long blonde hair was only a little untidy, a few strands escaping from the clip at the back of her neck. And her open face would have benn sunshiny with golden freckles if she hadn't been looking to wan.
The scuffed sandals, jeans, t-shirt, and plaid lumbershirt were just the current youth fashion and, in themselves, not a sign of decline. Cordelia sympathized with the girl's obvious worry, but shook her head, miming puzzlement. A witch couldn't be too careful, even in these skeptical times.
"Let me just explain my problem, please. You don't have to admit anything, right?"
Cordelia shook her head again and brushed past, curling herself slightly around her bag of groceries. Two doors further down the pathway, she turned toward her own door and saw that the young woman was right behind her.
Either extremely softfooted or a touch of talent. Cordelia drew breath for a disclaimer and brushoff, but the girl spoke first.
"Hey! Comfrey! I can never get that to grow properly." The girl knelt by the plant beds flanking Cordelia's door. She touched leaves as if greeting old friends.
"Feverfew. Allheal. Artemesia - four kinds. Hyssop. Pennyroyal. Does the tansy really repel flies?"
The girl's energy seemed to rise. Cordelia stared resentfully but could not, at the last, turn her away. Silently she opened her unlocked door and entered, refraining from closing the door behind her. It was not a welcome, though Cordelia doubted that her unguest understood the import of that.
Certainly she was sufficiently encouraged by the open door to enter. Perhaps it was mere intuition that prompted her to close the door only ajar behind her. She didn't sit while Cordelia sorted her purchases into cupboards and drawers, but looked around with a curiosity that was apparently unstifled by either prudence or her present circumstances.
Cordelia scanned the room, herself. Yes, it was obviously a witch's room. If one knew the signs were there to announce it, just as the entry herb bed was a hint. A magpie, leg taped to mimic injury, hopped from perch to perch. Stones and branches and bundles were tucked, here and there, around the single room with adjoining kitchenette and bath. All the furniture was arranged at least one cubit from any wall - bookcases included.
Stowing done, Cordelia crossed her arms and studied her guest, who was examining the bare wood of the coffee table in the center of the room, fingers exploring the haphazard nicks, butns, and stains on its top.
"My name is Anne," said the girl, not looking up, "and my mother is killing me." Here a smile flitted: self-mockery. "Well, not killing me, really, just making my life hell. You see, everything she says about me comes true.
You know all that stuff mothers say to their kids? "Don't go out with wet hair or you'll catch cold?" "Don't swallow watermelon seeds, they'll grow in your stomach?" Well, if she says them to me they become true. Here's her latest."
Anne held out her wrist. "If I drink cola my sweat gets sticky."
Cordelia dutifully felt the offered flesh. Anne was right. Her skin was tacky with exuded sweat and sugar.
Anne pulled back her hand and began pacing. "Look, I know this is my problem. And I've been dealing with it, really I have. But . . ." Annes shoulders slumped.
"See, Mom has this friend named Amily. Amily doesn't have any kids of her own so she pontificates about how to raise everyone else's. And Mom soaks it up.
Mostly it's harmless stuff. You know, like, she convinced Mom that white bread was poison so Mom only bought whole wheat. Mom complained about us not eating it for awhile and then started storing it in the fridge so it wouldn't go bad. And when I got sick eating white bread at someone else's house I just removed the curse. I'm not sure it actually is a curse, but the same removal works.
But now . . . " Anne's sigh seemed to deflate her. She hugged her arms across her middle and hunched around them, rocking. "Now Amily has Mom reading McVey tracts. Have you ever read a McVey tract?"
"I believe," said Cordelia, "that the basic thesis is that there is no such thing as magic and that any young person who shows interest in such preposterous things is sublimating a desire for a stronger family life."
"Yeah, well, you can see why I'm worried. I mean, my magic is the only thing keeping her from turning my life inside out.
Okay, I admit that I'm not very dedicated. If I thought she'd turn herself off, too, I'd mostly shrug and get on with my life. I mean, I have other talents. But it wouldn't work that way, would it?"
"No."
"I didn't think so. And the thought of her talent working while mine was dead gives me the shivverwillies. I'd be helpless. You've got to help."
Cordelia agreed that it was horrible and gave Anne a list of things to collect. It was a long list. As the happy girl left, the magpie hopped onto Cordelia's shoulder.
"She didn't notice that you didn't agree to help," it croaked. "She doesn't know that you won't." It flew to a perch on the bookshelf.
"I haven't decided, yet," said Cordelia. "The list will ensure that she is serious about this."
"You've decided. You won't. The list won't stop her. She'll be back. She'll be happy." It flew to the back of a chair. "You don't want to do it, but you don't want to say no. The list won't stop her."
"Enough," said Cordelia, and the bird was silent, if not still. That was the trouble with magpies: their gossip bit through to the meat, to the nerve. It was well known that they were all but impossible to familiarize. Most witches were impressed with Patch. No. They were impressed with Cordelia because of Patch, because of the difficulty. They showed respect for that and, more, because it was known that magpies could snatch information from guests as well as strangers.
What few knew was their inability to leave a witch's own thoughts alone. They would pick and pick, looking for good gossip. They would bite to the meat, to the nerve, to the bone. It took a certain stamina to bear.
"Enough," whispered Cordelia. And she began to make her own list.
----------
[This one is older than most and is complete. I'll try to post the next segment tomorrow.]
The young woman could easily be attractive, Cordelia thought. She was tall and her movements had an athletic grace that wasn't quite hidden by her drooping lassitude. Her long blonde hair was only a little untidy, a few strands escaping from the clip at the back of her neck. And her open face would have benn sunshiny with golden freckles if she hadn't been looking to wan.
The scuffed sandals, jeans, t-shirt, and plaid lumbershirt were just the current youth fashion and, in themselves, not a sign of decline. Cordelia sympathized with the girl's obvious worry, but shook her head, miming puzzlement. A witch couldn't be too careful, even in these skeptical times.
"Let me just explain my problem, please. You don't have to admit anything, right?"
Cordelia shook her head again and brushed past, curling herself slightly around her bag of groceries. Two doors further down the pathway, she turned toward her own door and saw that the young woman was right behind her.
Either extremely softfooted or a touch of talent. Cordelia drew breath for a disclaimer and brushoff, but the girl spoke first.
"Hey! Comfrey! I can never get that to grow properly." The girl knelt by the plant beds flanking Cordelia's door. She touched leaves as if greeting old friends.
"Feverfew. Allheal. Artemesia - four kinds. Hyssop. Pennyroyal. Does the tansy really repel flies?"
The girl's energy seemed to rise. Cordelia stared resentfully but could not, at the last, turn her away. Silently she opened her unlocked door and entered, refraining from closing the door behind her. It was not a welcome, though Cordelia doubted that her unguest understood the import of that.
Certainly she was sufficiently encouraged by the open door to enter. Perhaps it was mere intuition that prompted her to close the door only ajar behind her. She didn't sit while Cordelia sorted her purchases into cupboards and drawers, but looked around with a curiosity that was apparently unstifled by either prudence or her present circumstances.
Cordelia scanned the room, herself. Yes, it was obviously a witch's room. If one knew the signs were there to announce it, just as the entry herb bed was a hint. A magpie, leg taped to mimic injury, hopped from perch to perch. Stones and branches and bundles were tucked, here and there, around the single room with adjoining kitchenette and bath. All the furniture was arranged at least one cubit from any wall - bookcases included.
Stowing done, Cordelia crossed her arms and studied her guest, who was examining the bare wood of the coffee table in the center of the room, fingers exploring the haphazard nicks, butns, and stains on its top.
"My name is Anne," said the girl, not looking up, "and my mother is killing me." Here a smile flitted: self-mockery. "Well, not killing me, really, just making my life hell. You see, everything she says about me comes true.
You know all that stuff mothers say to their kids? "Don't go out with wet hair or you'll catch cold?" "Don't swallow watermelon seeds, they'll grow in your stomach?" Well, if she says them to me they become true. Here's her latest."
Anne held out her wrist. "If I drink cola my sweat gets sticky."
Cordelia dutifully felt the offered flesh. Anne was right. Her skin was tacky with exuded sweat and sugar.
Anne pulled back her hand and began pacing. "Look, I know this is my problem. And I've been dealing with it, really I have. But . . ." Annes shoulders slumped.
"See, Mom has this friend named Amily. Amily doesn't have any kids of her own so she pontificates about how to raise everyone else's. And Mom soaks it up.
Mostly it's harmless stuff. You know, like, she convinced Mom that white bread was poison so Mom only bought whole wheat. Mom complained about us not eating it for awhile and then started storing it in the fridge so it wouldn't go bad. And when I got sick eating white bread at someone else's house I just removed the curse. I'm not sure it actually is a curse, but the same removal works.
But now . . . " Anne's sigh seemed to deflate her. She hugged her arms across her middle and hunched around them, rocking. "Now Amily has Mom reading McVey tracts. Have you ever read a McVey tract?"
"I believe," said Cordelia, "that the basic thesis is that there is no such thing as magic and that any young person who shows interest in such preposterous things is sublimating a desire for a stronger family life."
"Yeah, well, you can see why I'm worried. I mean, my magic is the only thing keeping her from turning my life inside out.
Okay, I admit that I'm not very dedicated. If I thought she'd turn herself off, too, I'd mostly shrug and get on with my life. I mean, I have other talents. But it wouldn't work that way, would it?"
"No."
"I didn't think so. And the thought of her talent working while mine was dead gives me the shivverwillies. I'd be helpless. You've got to help."
Cordelia agreed that it was horrible and gave Anne a list of things to collect. It was a long list. As the happy girl left, the magpie hopped onto Cordelia's shoulder.
"She didn't notice that you didn't agree to help," it croaked. "She doesn't know that you won't." It flew to a perch on the bookshelf.
"I haven't decided, yet," said Cordelia. "The list will ensure that she is serious about this."
"You've decided. You won't. The list won't stop her. She'll be back. She'll be happy." It flew to the back of a chair. "You don't want to do it, but you don't want to say no. The list won't stop her."
"Enough," said Cordelia, and the bird was silent, if not still. That was the trouble with magpies: their gossip bit through to the meat, to the nerve. It was well known that they were all but impossible to familiarize. Most witches were impressed with Patch. No. They were impressed with Cordelia because of Patch, because of the difficulty. They showed respect for that and, more, because it was known that magpies could snatch information from guests as well as strangers.
What few knew was their inability to leave a witch's own thoughts alone. They would pick and pick, looking for good gossip. They would bite to the meat, to the nerve, to the bone. It took a certain stamina to bear.
"Enough," whispered Cordelia. And she began to make her own list.
----------
[This one is older than most and is complete. I'll try to post the next segment tomorrow.]
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