Chapter Fourteen
Leah slept in her grandfather’s bed that night, despite her protests. The sight of both her grandfather and Simon sleeping on the hard-packed dirt floor in front of the fire made her feel guilty for taking the only bed. Simon explained he usually slept on the floor, except when he chose to sleep outside, and then he slept on the ground. It wasn’t too bad for Simon. He was young and used to it, but Grandpa was old, probably seventy.
The pine needles managed to work their way through the thin mattress covering when they could and ended up sticking her. At least the mattress smelled good. It reminded her of the floor cleaner her mother used. Unfortunately, the rope bed with the pine-needle mattress was rather uncomfortable. Every time she moved, the ropes protested, as if they might break any moment. It was hard to get comfortable, not only with the bed, but knowing in the morning, she’d have to confront her death or near-death.
Rolling to one side to face the wall, she tried to block out the images of Simon and Grandfather. If she didn’t see the crude furniture, the open-hearth fire, the elderly man sleeping on the floor with his apprentice, then she could pretend she was home and be able to fall sleep. Her pillow, filled with dry grass, made a rustling sound when she moved. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but the sound was disconcerting. It reminded her of the sound she might hear if a snake was slithering through the grass.
Forcing her eyes shut, she began to count. Sometimes it worked at home. Usually, by the time she got to two hundred, her numbers became confused as she drifted off. This time, no such luck. By thirty, she turned and looked at the semi-curled form of her grandfather. The man had committed almost a third of his life waiting for her in this primitive, dangerous place. She managed to start again and made it to sixty-four before Dylan’s face crept into her thoughts. Oh, Dylan, we never even explored what was between us. Did he wonder where she was? How many days of school had she really missed? Had her mother called the school and explained her daughter was out of the country, no, make that the country and century. She doubted it.
Would it be small and petty of her to want to go to her junior prom as opposed to changing beliefs and righting wrongs in whatever century this was? If so, she was petty, not to mention scared, very scared. Each trip into the past had frightened her, but until grandfather had explained, she had never realized she could die here. It was more like watching a scary movie that frightened you in the moment but became less and less frightening the further away from it you got. Only, this wasn’t a movie with an automatic happy ending.
Were there ever happy endings? That would imply you were glad something ended. If a woman married her sweetheart, they called it true love. What was ending? The courtship? Many women would deplore that ending. She yawned, blinking her suddenly heavy eyes. Had Grandfather put something in the tea? Suddenly, she felt very, very sleepy.
Leah woke to sunlight streaming in the window and the sound of birds singing. For a moment, a brief second, she thought everything was right in the world. It was Sunday, and she could sleep late. Her father always cooked a hearty breakfast on the weekends, since the family could eat together. He’d wake her up when it was time.
“Leah,” a male voice whispered close to her ear. It was familiar but not her father’s. Rolling to her back, she gazed up at an elderly, bearded man with concerned eyes. Who was he? It all came back at once, hitting her with the same impact as when the neighbor’s over-friendly Great Dane had jumped on her. The dog had never had a grasp on how big he was.
She held her head straight, bit her bottom lip, and wondered if she could think herself home. Nana always preached to her the value of intention. A person could do anything if they just believed. Right now, she believed she wanted to be home. If she didn’t turn her head to see the primitive cabin, she wouldn’t be here. She could return to the world where her sheets smelled like fabric softener and she dreamed of dancing with Dylan at the junior prom. Technically, she would have to ask him, since he was a year younger. Like that would ever happen. Her gaze moved around Grandfather to the drying herbs hanging from the beams to Simon squatting in front of the fire, stirring something in a cauldron.
Simon turned, caught her attention and said, “Gruel is ready.”
Gruel? Was that something people actually ate? It sounded like something from a Dickens novel. It didn’t sound appetizing, either. No pancakes or link sausages for her, that’s for sure. Her grandfather thanked Simon and turned to her.
“Rise and shine, Leah. Today will be the making of you. Not many have the opportunity to confront their destiny so early in life’s journey. This can only mean a special life awaits you full of wonder and possibilities.” His yellowed teeth appeared in a wide grin.
She mentally made note of the teeth, and the fact he still had any. It was miraculous. She had noticed that Margaret had had a fair amount of teeth gone, and she was younger than grandfather. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at her grandfather. Did he really believe half of what he said? On the other hand, was he trying to use some form of positive-thinking mumbo jumbo on her?
A slight singed smell permeated the air.
“Make haste,” Simon urged as he swung the small cauldron up to the table.
He used a ladle to scoop out a light gray substance that had the consistency of soup into three carved, wooden bowls. Even though she was hungry, she doubted she could stomach it. “Um, what exactly is in it?”
Her grandfather opened a small box from which he took a pinch and sprinkled on his food. “It’s better with salt, but since salt is hard to come by, we use it sparingly.” Both Simon and Grandfather dug into their own bowls with vigor. In fact, they held up their bowls and drank the mixture.
Leah took a pinch of salt, hoping it would change the food into something edible.
Grandfather continued to eat, but he paused to notice Leah not eating. “Eat up, child. It is nothing harmful. Rather like cereal, it is a mixture of rye, millet, and sometimes oats. We are fortunate because Simon has proven himself very adept at relocating bags of grain at the miller’s place. Some folks have to subsist on gruel made from tree bark.”
The cooling bland cereal mixture sat in her mouth. It reminded her slightly of a breakfast cereal her mother had cooked for her when she was young, determined she’d have a hot breakfast before school. At the time, she’d assumed her mother was a bad cook. It had never occurred to her it was supposed to taste that way. She did remember not liking it, and her mother had let her return to cold cereal. Grandfather calmly mentioning that Simon had stolen the ingredients almost had her spewing her mouthful across the table. Instead, she made herself swallow.
The dog nudged her leg under the table reminding her that it would happily finish her breakfast. It was a thought, but she immediately dismissed it as rude.
Simon put his bowl down. His face bright with delight, he thumped his chest. “The look-away spell confuses my old master, who cannot fathom where the grain goes. Truth is, he steals much on his own. Too much and people begin to suspect.”
Grandfather put down his spoon, cocked his head, and gave Leah a long look, before chuckling. “Did you think I conjured up groceries?”
“Truthfully, I never thought about it.” She closed her eyes and swallowed another spoon of gruel. The substance would provide her with the nourishment she’d need to accomplish her mission. She figured the slightly burnt taste was her reward for lingering too long in bed. Simon served her grandfather cheerfully, but that had been for only two years or so.
“Grandfather, what did you do before Simon? How did you obtain what you needed?” Obviously, he had or he wouldn’t be looking reasonably healthy today.
He nodded at his apprentice with an indulgent smile. “There have been more than a few lost travelers in the woods. Some didn’t show the aptitude or willingness of young Simon. Most longed to return to the more populated towns. A few I graduated to working on their own.”
At last, she finished her bowl of gruel. Simon, waiting for such a moment, dolloped more gruel into her bowl with a grin. Great, she’d have to eat that, too. Reaching for the salt, she wondered aloud, “Weren’t you afraid of these former visitors leading the witch catchers back to your cottage?”
“Leah, Leah, did my sweet wife tell you so little of me?” He shook his head in disbelief.
“No, absolutely nothing. We could not speak your name. Even to make the mistake of mentioning it in passing would send Nana to her room, where she’d weep for days.” He didn’t need to know his wife retired with a fifth of brandy.
“My poor Esmeralda, she didn’t know. I could not tell her. One day I looked into the mirror. I saw the portal and you and knew I had mere minutes to reach the portal before it blinked out of existence. Your grandmother had left to do a bit of shopping. I left her a note.” His brow beetled, and his lips turned down.
“She never mentioned it. What did the note say?” If he’d left a note, then her grandmother should have understood.
His eyes rolled up in his head as if he tried to remember. “It was something about having to do something. That’s it.”
Really? He considered that a note? “No wonder she’s still mad after all these years. What type of note is that? You didn’t tell her you loved her?”
“She knew I loved her. Didn’t I marry her?” He folded his arms in an effort to look stern.
Men. Why didn’t they get it? “She might have believed you loved her once, but leaving made her doubt it. Then there was the cryptic note about going to do something. That could mean anything. Maybe you were going to buy cigarettes.”
“No, I only smoke a pipe. She should have known better,” he corrected her with an eyebrow lift.
Leah searched her mind for what men of that age would have been going to do. “Could be, she thought you were going to play golf with your buds?”
“I never played golf, cricket, croquet, pool, or even poker,” he admitted, almost with pride.
“Geesh, what did you do for fun?” Leah would be the first to admit she did not know the habits of middle-aged men.
“Ah, yes, fun. Sometimes, I would meet other ceremonial magicians. We would engage in divination, trying to penetrate each other’s mental barriers, astral projection, and aging spirits,” Grandfather concluded with a smile.
Leah wasn’t about to admit that none of it sounded like a good time to her. “Why would you want to make ghosts older?”
“Ghosts older,” he repeated the words as if confused.
Simon comprehended faster. “Aging spirits.”
“Oh, that,” Grandfather said, then slapped the table as if it were the funniest thing he’d heard. “The spirits I mean were whisky and brandy. Boniface decided to get into the home-brew business, but spirits taste their best with a little age on them. We often took a detour to his cellar and practiced aging a few casks.” His face took on a wistful expression that led Leah to believe they’d probably done more in that cellar than just aging the spirits. It sounded as if some sampling went on, too.
“All the same,” she said, trying to explain a woman’s outlook to a man, which just might be an impossible task, “your vague note could have been misinterpreted to mean you were leaving with some bimbo to head to the Bahamas.”
“Esmeralda wouldn’t believe that. She was the only woman for me. If she did believe such nonsense, I would have been very afraid. She’s not a woman who forgives easy. I often teased her that her middle name was Payback.”
Leah regarded her grandfather and his confused expression over the possibility his wife hadn’t understood his note.
He threw up his hands, causing wind to whip through the cabin. “Notes were not my strong point. Actions are.”
Leah admitted to being impressed. She’d never known anyone who could interact with the elements. All the same, a little breeze would not save her grandfather from the wrath of Nana.
“Oh.” He drew out the word as if in sudden realization. “I will have to woo Esmeralda all over again.”
Great, she’d forgotten her mind was an open book to the only ceremonial magician in their family. “Grandfather, why can you do so much? You can read my mind. Control the elements. Change Simon into an animal.
“Before, when I asked if Esmeralda ever mentioned me, I wanted to know if she commented on me being a great ceremonial magician. I was at that time. My life was rich with family, friends, and activities. I even had a job. I estimated risk for an insurance company. I was stupendous. Here, I’ve nothing to entertain my thoughts but my own magick and me. It has allowed me time to sharpen my skills, to perfect areas formerly lacking. All those travelers and young wizards I interacted with have no memory of me or this place.”
He spread his broad-tipped fingers on the table and studied them. “Which goes to show, Granddaughter, if you look hard enough, you can find some good in everything no matter what?” He lifted his brows at his own statement, asking a question.
What good would come out of this experience? It would depend on if she survived. “Well.” She stalled, hoping the right answer would suddenly enter her mind. Shifting through her various feelings and experiences, she tried to gather what she learned. “I found out my family loves me very much. Even the women Nana sometimes quarrels with came to my aid.” She held out the wide sleeve of her gown. “My protective garment came through the door with someone.”
He nodded his head and gave her a significant look. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know it meant continue. Weren’t you supposed to do all this debriefing stuff after the mission was finished? “My friend Stella and I were working on an essay on religious prejudice. I found out she is more predisposed to the Wiccan faith than I ever dreamed. I’ve hidden my beliefs because I never thought of them as mine. I guess I didn’t believe in magick.”
Simon jumped up. “Not believe in magick? Your grandfather is the most powerful wizard that has ever existed!” He threw his hands wide, as if to indicate the whole world.
“Thank you, Simon, but I prefer the term ceremonial magician.” Grandfather twirled his two index fingers for her to resume her revelations.
Directing her words to both Simon and Grandfather, she said, “I do believe in magick now. I’ve experienced it. I’ve seen the results of it. I am wearing it.” She looked at both males and added, “I am looking at it right now.”
Simon whooped with delight. Evidently, no one had ever attributed magick to him in so public a statement.
“I also understand why people did what they did in the Burning Years. We allow others to manipulate our fears. When I return home, I refuse to be captive to my fears. Instead, I will be bold. I will do what I want and make the things I desire a reality.” She finished with a hand flourish, excited about all she’d discovered and the new fearless life she’d have.
After running from torch-wielding peasants and dogs, hunted by drunken knights, betrayed by a so-called friend, and whipped by the resident dungeon master, high school didn’t seem that frightening–even with Cerberus roaming the halls.
Grandfather steepled his fingers and grinned. “If my wooing of my wife goes well, we can chaperone you and Dylan at your junior prom. Esmeralda and I are quite the dancers.”
Leah put her hands on her hips. “You will have to stop reading my mind.”
Assuming a solemn mien, he pushed up from the table, pointing a finger in Leah’s face. “You will have to develop mental barriers. I may not be the only one able to read your thoughts. They are so loud they practically shout.”
She never thought of others reading her thoughts. That wouldn’t be good. What if the bad abbot was around? She didn’t know if he would be, but she couldn’t take any chances. What if she went back to ordinary times and there were a few who could read her mind? What if Dylan could? Obviously, it didn’t matter if her math teacher called her obsessed. Everyone knew whom she liked, including Dylan.
“Can you teach me how to erect these barriers? I know it will be a quick course, but I think it will be useful.” After all, she could use all the help she could get.
Simon moved closer to the table. “I could benefit from knowing how to erect such barriers.”
Leah ended up snorting when all she really wanted to say was, Amen to that, Brother. Simon, in time, might meet a pleasing witch. It would probably be best if she didn’t hear Simon’s immediate thoughts.
Grandfather held both hands over his head, allowing them to skim just over his body down to his feet. “While your hands move, think of encasing your body in a white envelope of light.”
Leah and Simon watched until they realized they should be doing likewise. They flapped their hands awkwardly through the air, resembling seagulls trying to find a place to roost.
“Not like that,” he corrected, pointing to spots in the air. “You’ve left holes in your envelopes, easy openings for your enemies to breach. Keep moving your hands in a smooth fashion. Start over. When you do, recite after me:
Protect this body
Head to toe
Hand to hand
Foot to foot
Skin and bone
Head and heart”
Leah cast a doubting look. “Really? That’s it? No long words, mysterious phrases and such? Not even a word or two of Romany?”
“Ah, I see you’ve been around Esmeralda too long. Nothing fancy. Anything else is all showmanship. Trust me, Leah. This will get the job done.” He circled his hand to get them to start.
The spell reminded her of the protection spells they normally used at the beginning of a ritual. What made this one so different? She wondered as she chanted in unison with Simon.
The whiteness settled on her as if a blanket had been tossed from the ceiling. She picked up her feet, one at a time, allowing the protection to flow underneath. The shield felt heavy and thick, as if white cotton batting covered her body.
Simon asked the question she wanted to. “How does this protect our minds from being read?”
Holding up one finger, Grandfather explained, “First, we must protect the body before we can safeguard the mind. If a soldier ran you through with a lance, protecting your mind really wouldn’t matter much. You two are ready. Here are some things to consider. Emotions are loud. Beware of the mind-sweepers who look for strong emotion. It can be love, anger, even fear. In fact, it is usually fear. The first thing you must do is not show fright.”
Sure thing, all she had to do was not look afraid. Leah looked from her grandfather to Simon, then back again. Neither cracked a smile, so it must not have been a joke. “How do you do this?”
“Leah, Leah, you do it all the time. Think of when you see those girls you call Cerberus, or a strange dog growls at you, or the teacher calls on you and you don’t know the answer. What do you do?” His eyes peered intently into hers, as if he were confident of her answer.
Thinking back, she tried to remember what she did. With Cerberus, she never made the mistake of acting as if she cared. With the strange dog, she was casual, pretending she hadn’t heard his growl. With the teacher, she tried to act confident. There had been times when she had actually given the wrong answer, but because she’d acted confident, it had been accepted. “I tried to show no emotion.”
Grandfather put his index fingers and thumbs together to form a triangle. “Our defense is triangular in nature. The base is,” he wiggled his thumbs to demonstrate, “the lack of any outward show of emotions. There are people and entities, which would feed on your fear. Give them nothing.”
Holding up one index finger, he said, “The second part is clearing your mind of all fear.”
Just like that, she was supposed to clear her mind of all fear. Yeah, sure, and next she'd fly. She sucked her bottom lip in. Didn’t fear keep people alive? While she’d never thought of herself as a fearful person, she’d lived most of her life avoiding things that frightened her, including anxiety about not being accepted at her new school and the alarm of moving again. There was always fear somewhere motivating her. Her head shook side to side as she considered his words.
Simon pointed at her, catching her grandfather’s attention. “Yes, Leah. Is there something you want to say?”
Not really. She never wanted attention in class, even if it was a class of two. “Well…” She hesitated, not sure how to make her point. “Fear keeps people alive.” She motioned to the fire. “A person learns fire is hot, producing a natural fear of putting his hand in the fire.”
Simon agreed with her, but she assumed he was just that type of person who would agree with whoever was speaking.
Grandfather graced her with a thoughtful stare. “The knowledge that fire is hot and that you shouldn’t stick your hand in it is just that, knowledge. Knowing a bear could kill you is information, as is knowing to be on the lookout for witch catchers. That is all information, but fear muddles your thinking processes and slows your reactions. Sometimes, it can even kill you.”
“Fear kills.” She said the words slowly, thinking there may have been times when she had wondered whether she would live through a scary episode.
“Yes, often creating mental scenarios that are ten times worse than what could really happen. Sometimes you hear about people having a heart attack when a plane starts to plummet. The plane regains altitude, but the person died because, in his mind, he experienced the crash. The ability to control your fear is often the difference between surviving and not.”
The elderly dog sitting by the fire began to growl intermittently. The hair stood up on the dog’s shoulders and back.
“Esme hears someone,” Simon announced.
The dog lurched to her feet on stiff, arthritic legs and swayed a bit. “You named the dog after Nana?”
Lightly clapping his hands together for attention, Grandfather announced, “We need to work on our shielding. They are drawing closer. Leah, I would consider it a kindness if you didn’t mention the dog’s name. Women can be funny about these things. Remember, fear changes nothing. Fear doesn’t stop a sword from coming toward you, but it will slow your escape. You must be always thinking of the next step. By thinking of moving forward, you are not trapped in fear.”
Esme sniffed by the door and growled. The sound of horses milling about and men shouting to one another penetrated the thin walls. “Grandfather,” Leah whimpered, trying to still the panic that wanted to creep into her voice.
“Do not worry about them. The whole area is enchanted. All they see is more forest.” Clapping his hands together again, he spoke. “The third part of the triangle is mental fences. As we wrap our bodies in protective cocoons, we must guard our minds. Think of fences, brick walls, steel boxes, anything impenetrable that will lock out others. Your mind and thoughts are inside. You can also train yourself to go to safe thoughts to keep your mind busy if you think someone might be scanning your thoughts.” His attention strayed to the lone window, where the shadows of the horsed men cut out most of the sunlight.
“Safe memories. Should I be thinking of a time I was safe?” Leah wasn’t sure how this helped.
“No, not exactly.” He edged closer to the window to peer out. “Making brownies, swimming in the ocean, playing with the dog. These are memories that give no real information, or at least the kind they hope to get.”
“Let’s practice,” he called from his stance at the window. “Set up your triangle. I will be Lionel, and I will try to read your mind.”
Leah wasn’t sure if Lionel had that capability, but she hesitated mentioning it. Instead, she worked on not showing any fear. Her grandfather waved his hands in a flourish and morphed into a thin, haggard man with dark eyes and a wicked-looking staff with some type of spiked device on the end. Terror definitely sought a return visit. Grabbing the emotion ruthlessly, she sat on it and wrestled it into her mental steel box. Quickly, in her mind, she padlocked the box. Simon showed no fear. The ability to change into anyone was another skill she never knew her grandfather possessed. It could have been very useful if he’d ever left the cottage.
“Simon, son of John, tell me where you hid the witch.” He breathed the words in a sinister voice, shaking his strange stick threateningly.
The boy, to his credit, kept his face wiped clean of emotion. “Sir, I do not know of what you speak. This is a respectable woods with no mischief-causing witches within.”
Leah wanted to applaud him. He hid his fear and thoughts well. The ominous figure turned on her so fast she stumbled back a step, but she reminded herself of the tenets of mental protection. She calculated angles in her head as she watched the man walk toward her.
“Do you think to fool me with your deceitful ways and wiles?” He loomed over her.
Still trying to keep the equation in her head, she managed to answer. “Oh, no, sir. I have no deceitful ways or wiles. I am a simple girl. Pray, how may I be of service?” She made a little curtsey.
The figure transformed back into the now-familiar man. “Simon, good job, though thinking about how crooked the miller is might not be your best safe thought.”
Turning to Leah, he smiled. “The geometry was an inspired thought. It would be enough to cause most mind-sweepers to doubt their own minds. That curtsey at the end was a bit too much. It would be the equivalent of giving Lionel the middle finger, and you don’t want to do that.”
“The middle finger. What does that mean?” Simon asked, but a firm nod from her grandfather ended the discussion.
The voices outside grew louder and more agitated. Taking a final peek out the window, he cast a measuring look in her direction. “Granddaughter, you are about as ready as you’re going to be. Besides, we have less than two days to make it happen, if my calculations are correct. There are two things you must remember. Keep in mind to hold yourself proud. They will be more afraid of you than you are of them. By now, your legend has grown. “
Leah protested, “I haven’t done anything.”
“By now,” Simon added, “there will be tales of how you transformed into a fire-breathing monster and burned down entire towns.”
Would it be to her advantage to encourage the tales? She decided she would stay silent on the matter. It would be better for people to be unsure. “What is the second thing, Grandfather?”
“Love. There is the love of everyone holding you in his or her intentions. There is the love of Lionel and Arabella. I will always believe love is the ultimate magick.” He stood near the door, but motioned the two of them closer.
Laying his hand on Leah’s head, he urged Simon to do likewise. Even Esme stuck her cold nose in her hand. Grandfather’s deep, resonant voice started. “I bless you in the name of the Lady and the Lord.”
Simon’s voice joined in, cracking a little. “Spirits, good and kind, go with Leah.”
In unison, they spoke, “Elements Air, Fire, Water, and Earth assist Leah in her endeavors.”
Her grandfather’s voice thickened with emotion. “Woodland creatures, birds in flight, fish in the water, guide your sister home.”
Esme barked, adding her own benediction to the blessing. It was time to go. She put her hand on the door.
Grandfather placed a hand on her shoulder. “I cannot go with you. How I wish I could, but Simon can go.”
“I can?” His voice cracked on the question.
“Not as you, but as a stately escort. I think a pure-white falcon might do the trick.” Waving his hands once more, he turned the open-mouthed Simon into a beautiful white bird. Leah lifted the falcon to her shoulder.
Esme gave three sharp barks.
Grandfather looked down at the dog. “I don’t know, Esme, you really are too old for adventures.”
The dog looked up at the falcon and barked again.
“Leah, Esme wants to go with you. As an old dog, this may be her last adventure, since she can’t return with me. It’s fitting she should go in style.” He waved his hands once more, transforming the elderly dog into a large black panther with a jeweled collar.
The bird jumped around on her shoulder, squawking. Most people might think it was afraid of the panther, but Leah knew better. Simon was mad he didn’t get to be the panther.
“Be at peace, Simon. You are the only one who can fly.” Grandfather’s words settled the bird some.
Leah turned to the door once more, steeling herself for her upcoming mission.
“One more thing.” Grandfather darted to a dark corner and returned with a staff adorned with a rounded crystal sphere on top. He blew on the clear crystal, causing smoke to develop inside. It would seethe one way, then the other, forming images and shapes as it moved. “The ultimate parlor trick, it will, as you say in your time, freak them out.” He laughed with delight.
Leah vowed to be brave as she used her staff to counterbalance herself. Simon didn’t weigh too much, and the robe protected her from his talons. Her attitude would be similar to that of a mean girl. She’d show no fear and would expect everyone to do her bidding. Esme walked along beside her, soft-footed and menacing.
Leah slept in her grandfather’s bed that night, despite her protests. The sight of both her grandfather and Simon sleeping on the hard-packed dirt floor in front of the fire made her feel guilty for taking the only bed. Simon explained he usually slept on the floor, except when he chose to sleep outside, and then he slept on the ground. It wasn’t too bad for Simon. He was young and used to it, but Grandpa was old, probably seventy.
The pine needles managed to work their way through the thin mattress covering when they could and ended up sticking her. At least the mattress smelled good. It reminded her of the floor cleaner her mother used. Unfortunately, the rope bed with the pine-needle mattress was rather uncomfortable. Every time she moved, the ropes protested, as if they might break any moment. It was hard to get comfortable, not only with the bed, but knowing in the morning, she’d have to confront her death or near-death.
Rolling to one side to face the wall, she tried to block out the images of Simon and Grandfather. If she didn’t see the crude furniture, the open-hearth fire, the elderly man sleeping on the floor with his apprentice, then she could pretend she was home and be able to fall sleep. Her pillow, filled with dry grass, made a rustling sound when she moved. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but the sound was disconcerting. It reminded her of the sound she might hear if a snake was slithering through the grass.
Forcing her eyes shut, she began to count. Sometimes it worked at home. Usually, by the time she got to two hundred, her numbers became confused as she drifted off. This time, no such luck. By thirty, she turned and looked at the semi-curled form of her grandfather. The man had committed almost a third of his life waiting for her in this primitive, dangerous place. She managed to start again and made it to sixty-four before Dylan’s face crept into her thoughts. Oh, Dylan, we never even explored what was between us. Did he wonder where she was? How many days of school had she really missed? Had her mother called the school and explained her daughter was out of the country, no, make that the country and century. She doubted it.
Would it be small and petty of her to want to go to her junior prom as opposed to changing beliefs and righting wrongs in whatever century this was? If so, she was petty, not to mention scared, very scared. Each trip into the past had frightened her, but until grandfather had explained, she had never realized she could die here. It was more like watching a scary movie that frightened you in the moment but became less and less frightening the further away from it you got. Only, this wasn’t a movie with an automatic happy ending.
Were there ever happy endings? That would imply you were glad something ended. If a woman married her sweetheart, they called it true love. What was ending? The courtship? Many women would deplore that ending. She yawned, blinking her suddenly heavy eyes. Had Grandfather put something in the tea? Suddenly, she felt very, very sleepy.
Leah woke to sunlight streaming in the window and the sound of birds singing. For a moment, a brief second, she thought everything was right in the world. It was Sunday, and she could sleep late. Her father always cooked a hearty breakfast on the weekends, since the family could eat together. He’d wake her up when it was time.
“Leah,” a male voice whispered close to her ear. It was familiar but not her father’s. Rolling to her back, she gazed up at an elderly, bearded man with concerned eyes. Who was he? It all came back at once, hitting her with the same impact as when the neighbor’s over-friendly Great Dane had jumped on her. The dog had never had a grasp on how big he was.
She held her head straight, bit her bottom lip, and wondered if she could think herself home. Nana always preached to her the value of intention. A person could do anything if they just believed. Right now, she believed she wanted to be home. If she didn’t turn her head to see the primitive cabin, she wouldn’t be here. She could return to the world where her sheets smelled like fabric softener and she dreamed of dancing with Dylan at the junior prom. Technically, she would have to ask him, since he was a year younger. Like that would ever happen. Her gaze moved around Grandfather to the drying herbs hanging from the beams to Simon squatting in front of the fire, stirring something in a cauldron.
Simon turned, caught her attention and said, “Gruel is ready.”
Gruel? Was that something people actually ate? It sounded like something from a Dickens novel. It didn’t sound appetizing, either. No pancakes or link sausages for her, that’s for sure. Her grandfather thanked Simon and turned to her.
“Rise and shine, Leah. Today will be the making of you. Not many have the opportunity to confront their destiny so early in life’s journey. This can only mean a special life awaits you full of wonder and possibilities.” His yellowed teeth appeared in a wide grin.
She mentally made note of the teeth, and the fact he still had any. It was miraculous. She had noticed that Margaret had had a fair amount of teeth gone, and she was younger than grandfather. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at her grandfather. Did he really believe half of what he said? On the other hand, was he trying to use some form of positive-thinking mumbo jumbo on her?
A slight singed smell permeated the air.
“Make haste,” Simon urged as he swung the small cauldron up to the table.
He used a ladle to scoop out a light gray substance that had the consistency of soup into three carved, wooden bowls. Even though she was hungry, she doubted she could stomach it. “Um, what exactly is in it?”
Her grandfather opened a small box from which he took a pinch and sprinkled on his food. “It’s better with salt, but since salt is hard to come by, we use it sparingly.” Both Simon and Grandfather dug into their own bowls with vigor. In fact, they held up their bowls and drank the mixture.
Leah took a pinch of salt, hoping it would change the food into something edible.
Grandfather continued to eat, but he paused to notice Leah not eating. “Eat up, child. It is nothing harmful. Rather like cereal, it is a mixture of rye, millet, and sometimes oats. We are fortunate because Simon has proven himself very adept at relocating bags of grain at the miller’s place. Some folks have to subsist on gruel made from tree bark.”
The cooling bland cereal mixture sat in her mouth. It reminded her slightly of a breakfast cereal her mother had cooked for her when she was young, determined she’d have a hot breakfast before school. At the time, she’d assumed her mother was a bad cook. It had never occurred to her it was supposed to taste that way. She did remember not liking it, and her mother had let her return to cold cereal. Grandfather calmly mentioning that Simon had stolen the ingredients almost had her spewing her mouthful across the table. Instead, she made herself swallow.
The dog nudged her leg under the table reminding her that it would happily finish her breakfast. It was a thought, but she immediately dismissed it as rude.
Simon put his bowl down. His face bright with delight, he thumped his chest. “The look-away spell confuses my old master, who cannot fathom where the grain goes. Truth is, he steals much on his own. Too much and people begin to suspect.”
Grandfather put down his spoon, cocked his head, and gave Leah a long look, before chuckling. “Did you think I conjured up groceries?”
“Truthfully, I never thought about it.” She closed her eyes and swallowed another spoon of gruel. The substance would provide her with the nourishment she’d need to accomplish her mission. She figured the slightly burnt taste was her reward for lingering too long in bed. Simon served her grandfather cheerfully, but that had been for only two years or so.
“Grandfather, what did you do before Simon? How did you obtain what you needed?” Obviously, he had or he wouldn’t be looking reasonably healthy today.
He nodded at his apprentice with an indulgent smile. “There have been more than a few lost travelers in the woods. Some didn’t show the aptitude or willingness of young Simon. Most longed to return to the more populated towns. A few I graduated to working on their own.”
At last, she finished her bowl of gruel. Simon, waiting for such a moment, dolloped more gruel into her bowl with a grin. Great, she’d have to eat that, too. Reaching for the salt, she wondered aloud, “Weren’t you afraid of these former visitors leading the witch catchers back to your cottage?”
“Leah, Leah, did my sweet wife tell you so little of me?” He shook his head in disbelief.
“No, absolutely nothing. We could not speak your name. Even to make the mistake of mentioning it in passing would send Nana to her room, where she’d weep for days.” He didn’t need to know his wife retired with a fifth of brandy.
“My poor Esmeralda, she didn’t know. I could not tell her. One day I looked into the mirror. I saw the portal and you and knew I had mere minutes to reach the portal before it blinked out of existence. Your grandmother had left to do a bit of shopping. I left her a note.” His brow beetled, and his lips turned down.
“She never mentioned it. What did the note say?” If he’d left a note, then her grandmother should have understood.
His eyes rolled up in his head as if he tried to remember. “It was something about having to do something. That’s it.”
Really? He considered that a note? “No wonder she’s still mad after all these years. What type of note is that? You didn’t tell her you loved her?”
“She knew I loved her. Didn’t I marry her?” He folded his arms in an effort to look stern.
Men. Why didn’t they get it? “She might have believed you loved her once, but leaving made her doubt it. Then there was the cryptic note about going to do something. That could mean anything. Maybe you were going to buy cigarettes.”
“No, I only smoke a pipe. She should have known better,” he corrected her with an eyebrow lift.
Leah searched her mind for what men of that age would have been going to do. “Could be, she thought you were going to play golf with your buds?”
“I never played golf, cricket, croquet, pool, or even poker,” he admitted, almost with pride.
“Geesh, what did you do for fun?” Leah would be the first to admit she did not know the habits of middle-aged men.
“Ah, yes, fun. Sometimes, I would meet other ceremonial magicians. We would engage in divination, trying to penetrate each other’s mental barriers, astral projection, and aging spirits,” Grandfather concluded with a smile.
Leah wasn’t about to admit that none of it sounded like a good time to her. “Why would you want to make ghosts older?”
“Ghosts older,” he repeated the words as if confused.
Simon comprehended faster. “Aging spirits.”
“Oh, that,” Grandfather said, then slapped the table as if it were the funniest thing he’d heard. “The spirits I mean were whisky and brandy. Boniface decided to get into the home-brew business, but spirits taste their best with a little age on them. We often took a detour to his cellar and practiced aging a few casks.” His face took on a wistful expression that led Leah to believe they’d probably done more in that cellar than just aging the spirits. It sounded as if some sampling went on, too.
“All the same,” she said, trying to explain a woman’s outlook to a man, which just might be an impossible task, “your vague note could have been misinterpreted to mean you were leaving with some bimbo to head to the Bahamas.”
“Esmeralda wouldn’t believe that. She was the only woman for me. If she did believe such nonsense, I would have been very afraid. She’s not a woman who forgives easy. I often teased her that her middle name was Payback.”
Leah regarded her grandfather and his confused expression over the possibility his wife hadn’t understood his note.
He threw up his hands, causing wind to whip through the cabin. “Notes were not my strong point. Actions are.”
Leah admitted to being impressed. She’d never known anyone who could interact with the elements. All the same, a little breeze would not save her grandfather from the wrath of Nana.
“Oh.” He drew out the word as if in sudden realization. “I will have to woo Esmeralda all over again.”
Great, she’d forgotten her mind was an open book to the only ceremonial magician in their family. “Grandfather, why can you do so much? You can read my mind. Control the elements. Change Simon into an animal.
“Before, when I asked if Esmeralda ever mentioned me, I wanted to know if she commented on me being a great ceremonial magician. I was at that time. My life was rich with family, friends, and activities. I even had a job. I estimated risk for an insurance company. I was stupendous. Here, I’ve nothing to entertain my thoughts but my own magick and me. It has allowed me time to sharpen my skills, to perfect areas formerly lacking. All those travelers and young wizards I interacted with have no memory of me or this place.”
He spread his broad-tipped fingers on the table and studied them. “Which goes to show, Granddaughter, if you look hard enough, you can find some good in everything no matter what?” He lifted his brows at his own statement, asking a question.
What good would come out of this experience? It would depend on if she survived. “Well.” She stalled, hoping the right answer would suddenly enter her mind. Shifting through her various feelings and experiences, she tried to gather what she learned. “I found out my family loves me very much. Even the women Nana sometimes quarrels with came to my aid.” She held out the wide sleeve of her gown. “My protective garment came through the door with someone.”
He nodded his head and gave her a significant look. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know it meant continue. Weren’t you supposed to do all this debriefing stuff after the mission was finished? “My friend Stella and I were working on an essay on religious prejudice. I found out she is more predisposed to the Wiccan faith than I ever dreamed. I’ve hidden my beliefs because I never thought of them as mine. I guess I didn’t believe in magick.”
Simon jumped up. “Not believe in magick? Your grandfather is the most powerful wizard that has ever existed!” He threw his hands wide, as if to indicate the whole world.
“Thank you, Simon, but I prefer the term ceremonial magician.” Grandfather twirled his two index fingers for her to resume her revelations.
Directing her words to both Simon and Grandfather, she said, “I do believe in magick now. I’ve experienced it. I’ve seen the results of it. I am wearing it.” She looked at both males and added, “I am looking at it right now.”
Simon whooped with delight. Evidently, no one had ever attributed magick to him in so public a statement.
“I also understand why people did what they did in the Burning Years. We allow others to manipulate our fears. When I return home, I refuse to be captive to my fears. Instead, I will be bold. I will do what I want and make the things I desire a reality.” She finished with a hand flourish, excited about all she’d discovered and the new fearless life she’d have.
After running from torch-wielding peasants and dogs, hunted by drunken knights, betrayed by a so-called friend, and whipped by the resident dungeon master, high school didn’t seem that frightening–even with Cerberus roaming the halls.
Grandfather steepled his fingers and grinned. “If my wooing of my wife goes well, we can chaperone you and Dylan at your junior prom. Esmeralda and I are quite the dancers.”
Leah put her hands on her hips. “You will have to stop reading my mind.”
Assuming a solemn mien, he pushed up from the table, pointing a finger in Leah’s face. “You will have to develop mental barriers. I may not be the only one able to read your thoughts. They are so loud they practically shout.”
She never thought of others reading her thoughts. That wouldn’t be good. What if the bad abbot was around? She didn’t know if he would be, but she couldn’t take any chances. What if she went back to ordinary times and there were a few who could read her mind? What if Dylan could? Obviously, it didn’t matter if her math teacher called her obsessed. Everyone knew whom she liked, including Dylan.
“Can you teach me how to erect these barriers? I know it will be a quick course, but I think it will be useful.” After all, she could use all the help she could get.
Simon moved closer to the table. “I could benefit from knowing how to erect such barriers.”
Leah ended up snorting when all she really wanted to say was, Amen to that, Brother. Simon, in time, might meet a pleasing witch. It would probably be best if she didn’t hear Simon’s immediate thoughts.
Grandfather held both hands over his head, allowing them to skim just over his body down to his feet. “While your hands move, think of encasing your body in a white envelope of light.”
Leah and Simon watched until they realized they should be doing likewise. They flapped their hands awkwardly through the air, resembling seagulls trying to find a place to roost.
“Not like that,” he corrected, pointing to spots in the air. “You’ve left holes in your envelopes, easy openings for your enemies to breach. Keep moving your hands in a smooth fashion. Start over. When you do, recite after me:
Protect this body
Head to toe
Hand to hand
Foot to foot
Skin and bone
Head and heart”
Leah cast a doubting look. “Really? That’s it? No long words, mysterious phrases and such? Not even a word or two of Romany?”
“Ah, I see you’ve been around Esmeralda too long. Nothing fancy. Anything else is all showmanship. Trust me, Leah. This will get the job done.” He circled his hand to get them to start.
The spell reminded her of the protection spells they normally used at the beginning of a ritual. What made this one so different? She wondered as she chanted in unison with Simon.
The whiteness settled on her as if a blanket had been tossed from the ceiling. She picked up her feet, one at a time, allowing the protection to flow underneath. The shield felt heavy and thick, as if white cotton batting covered her body.
Simon asked the question she wanted to. “How does this protect our minds from being read?”
Holding up one finger, Grandfather explained, “First, we must protect the body before we can safeguard the mind. If a soldier ran you through with a lance, protecting your mind really wouldn’t matter much. You two are ready. Here are some things to consider. Emotions are loud. Beware of the mind-sweepers who look for strong emotion. It can be love, anger, even fear. In fact, it is usually fear. The first thing you must do is not show fright.”
Sure thing, all she had to do was not look afraid. Leah looked from her grandfather to Simon, then back again. Neither cracked a smile, so it must not have been a joke. “How do you do this?”
“Leah, Leah, you do it all the time. Think of when you see those girls you call Cerberus, or a strange dog growls at you, or the teacher calls on you and you don’t know the answer. What do you do?” His eyes peered intently into hers, as if he were confident of her answer.
Thinking back, she tried to remember what she did. With Cerberus, she never made the mistake of acting as if she cared. With the strange dog, she was casual, pretending she hadn’t heard his growl. With the teacher, she tried to act confident. There had been times when she had actually given the wrong answer, but because she’d acted confident, it had been accepted. “I tried to show no emotion.”
Grandfather put his index fingers and thumbs together to form a triangle. “Our defense is triangular in nature. The base is,” he wiggled his thumbs to demonstrate, “the lack of any outward show of emotions. There are people and entities, which would feed on your fear. Give them nothing.”
Holding up one index finger, he said, “The second part is clearing your mind of all fear.”
Just like that, she was supposed to clear her mind of all fear. Yeah, sure, and next she'd fly. She sucked her bottom lip in. Didn’t fear keep people alive? While she’d never thought of herself as a fearful person, she’d lived most of her life avoiding things that frightened her, including anxiety about not being accepted at her new school and the alarm of moving again. There was always fear somewhere motivating her. Her head shook side to side as she considered his words.
Simon pointed at her, catching her grandfather’s attention. “Yes, Leah. Is there something you want to say?”
Not really. She never wanted attention in class, even if it was a class of two. “Well…” She hesitated, not sure how to make her point. “Fear keeps people alive.” She motioned to the fire. “A person learns fire is hot, producing a natural fear of putting his hand in the fire.”
Simon agreed with her, but she assumed he was just that type of person who would agree with whoever was speaking.
Grandfather graced her with a thoughtful stare. “The knowledge that fire is hot and that you shouldn’t stick your hand in it is just that, knowledge. Knowing a bear could kill you is information, as is knowing to be on the lookout for witch catchers. That is all information, but fear muddles your thinking processes and slows your reactions. Sometimes, it can even kill you.”
“Fear kills.” She said the words slowly, thinking there may have been times when she had wondered whether she would live through a scary episode.
“Yes, often creating mental scenarios that are ten times worse than what could really happen. Sometimes you hear about people having a heart attack when a plane starts to plummet. The plane regains altitude, but the person died because, in his mind, he experienced the crash. The ability to control your fear is often the difference between surviving and not.”
The elderly dog sitting by the fire began to growl intermittently. The hair stood up on the dog’s shoulders and back.
“Esme hears someone,” Simon announced.
The dog lurched to her feet on stiff, arthritic legs and swayed a bit. “You named the dog after Nana?”
Lightly clapping his hands together for attention, Grandfather announced, “We need to work on our shielding. They are drawing closer. Leah, I would consider it a kindness if you didn’t mention the dog’s name. Women can be funny about these things. Remember, fear changes nothing. Fear doesn’t stop a sword from coming toward you, but it will slow your escape. You must be always thinking of the next step. By thinking of moving forward, you are not trapped in fear.”
Esme sniffed by the door and growled. The sound of horses milling about and men shouting to one another penetrated the thin walls. “Grandfather,” Leah whimpered, trying to still the panic that wanted to creep into her voice.
“Do not worry about them. The whole area is enchanted. All they see is more forest.” Clapping his hands together again, he spoke. “The third part of the triangle is mental fences. As we wrap our bodies in protective cocoons, we must guard our minds. Think of fences, brick walls, steel boxes, anything impenetrable that will lock out others. Your mind and thoughts are inside. You can also train yourself to go to safe thoughts to keep your mind busy if you think someone might be scanning your thoughts.” His attention strayed to the lone window, where the shadows of the horsed men cut out most of the sunlight.
“Safe memories. Should I be thinking of a time I was safe?” Leah wasn’t sure how this helped.
“No, not exactly.” He edged closer to the window to peer out. “Making brownies, swimming in the ocean, playing with the dog. These are memories that give no real information, or at least the kind they hope to get.”
“Let’s practice,” he called from his stance at the window. “Set up your triangle. I will be Lionel, and I will try to read your mind.”
Leah wasn’t sure if Lionel had that capability, but she hesitated mentioning it. Instead, she worked on not showing any fear. Her grandfather waved his hands in a flourish and morphed into a thin, haggard man with dark eyes and a wicked-looking staff with some type of spiked device on the end. Terror definitely sought a return visit. Grabbing the emotion ruthlessly, she sat on it and wrestled it into her mental steel box. Quickly, in her mind, she padlocked the box. Simon showed no fear. The ability to change into anyone was another skill she never knew her grandfather possessed. It could have been very useful if he’d ever left the cottage.
“Simon, son of John, tell me where you hid the witch.” He breathed the words in a sinister voice, shaking his strange stick threateningly.
The boy, to his credit, kept his face wiped clean of emotion. “Sir, I do not know of what you speak. This is a respectable woods with no mischief-causing witches within.”
Leah wanted to applaud him. He hid his fear and thoughts well. The ominous figure turned on her so fast she stumbled back a step, but she reminded herself of the tenets of mental protection. She calculated angles in her head as she watched the man walk toward her.
“Do you think to fool me with your deceitful ways and wiles?” He loomed over her.
Still trying to keep the equation in her head, she managed to answer. “Oh, no, sir. I have no deceitful ways or wiles. I am a simple girl. Pray, how may I be of service?” She made a little curtsey.
The figure transformed back into the now-familiar man. “Simon, good job, though thinking about how crooked the miller is might not be your best safe thought.”
Turning to Leah, he smiled. “The geometry was an inspired thought. It would be enough to cause most mind-sweepers to doubt their own minds. That curtsey at the end was a bit too much. It would be the equivalent of giving Lionel the middle finger, and you don’t want to do that.”
“The middle finger. What does that mean?” Simon asked, but a firm nod from her grandfather ended the discussion.
The voices outside grew louder and more agitated. Taking a final peek out the window, he cast a measuring look in her direction. “Granddaughter, you are about as ready as you’re going to be. Besides, we have less than two days to make it happen, if my calculations are correct. There are two things you must remember. Keep in mind to hold yourself proud. They will be more afraid of you than you are of them. By now, your legend has grown. “
Leah protested, “I haven’t done anything.”
“By now,” Simon added, “there will be tales of how you transformed into a fire-breathing monster and burned down entire towns.”
Would it be to her advantage to encourage the tales? She decided she would stay silent on the matter. It would be better for people to be unsure. “What is the second thing, Grandfather?”
“Love. There is the love of everyone holding you in his or her intentions. There is the love of Lionel and Arabella. I will always believe love is the ultimate magick.” He stood near the door, but motioned the two of them closer.
Laying his hand on Leah’s head, he urged Simon to do likewise. Even Esme stuck her cold nose in her hand. Grandfather’s deep, resonant voice started. “I bless you in the name of the Lady and the Lord.”
Simon’s voice joined in, cracking a little. “Spirits, good and kind, go with Leah.”
In unison, they spoke, “Elements Air, Fire, Water, and Earth assist Leah in her endeavors.”
Her grandfather’s voice thickened with emotion. “Woodland creatures, birds in flight, fish in the water, guide your sister home.”
Esme barked, adding her own benediction to the blessing. It was time to go. She put her hand on the door.
Grandfather placed a hand on her shoulder. “I cannot go with you. How I wish I could, but Simon can go.”
“I can?” His voice cracked on the question.
“Not as you, but as a stately escort. I think a pure-white falcon might do the trick.” Waving his hands once more, he turned the open-mouthed Simon into a beautiful white bird. Leah lifted the falcon to her shoulder.
Esme gave three sharp barks.
Grandfather looked down at the dog. “I don’t know, Esme, you really are too old for adventures.”
The dog looked up at the falcon and barked again.
“Leah, Esme wants to go with you. As an old dog, this may be her last adventure, since she can’t return with me. It’s fitting she should go in style.” He waved his hands once more, transforming the elderly dog into a large black panther with a jeweled collar.
The bird jumped around on her shoulder, squawking. Most people might think it was afraid of the panther, but Leah knew better. Simon was mad he didn’t get to be the panther.
“Be at peace, Simon. You are the only one who can fly.” Grandfather’s words settled the bird some.
Leah turned to the door once more, steeling herself for her upcoming mission.
“One more thing.” Grandfather darted to a dark corner and returned with a staff adorned with a rounded crystal sphere on top. He blew on the clear crystal, causing smoke to develop inside. It would seethe one way, then the other, forming images and shapes as it moved. “The ultimate parlor trick, it will, as you say in your time, freak them out.” He laughed with delight.
Leah vowed to be brave as she used her staff to counterbalance herself. Simon didn’t weigh too much, and the robe protected her from his talons. Her attitude would be similar to that of a mean girl. She’d show no fear and would expect everyone to do her bidding. Esme walked along beside her, soft-footed and menacing.