Dead Moon Awakens: A tale of Cherokee myth and Celtic magic (Mystic Gates) (11 page)

She looked at Morrigan for clues on what to say,
but Morrigan turned away.

“Lance, man, let’s hold off on this little talk
until later … much later. The only thang I wanna do right now—” he tore off his
candy bar wrapper “—is eat this and check my eyelids.” He grinned, chomped, and
then moaned. “Man, if my hand wasn’t throbbing, I’d be a happy camper.”

Monday, April 29

“What was that?” Lance woke Aishling out of a sound
sleep.

For several heartbeats, she didn’t know where she
was. Was that a car door slamming? That simple sound jolted her into a state of
alarm.

“Everyone wake up. Get your shoes on. Get your
stuff. Hurry!” Lance whispered.

Aishling put her socks and shoes on, gathered her
things and stood, ready to run. Shouts rang out from the front of the church.
Was someone shouting for her and the others to come out with their hands up?
She shook herself.
No
, she realized. A man and a woman were yelling at
each other.

Lance grabbed his things. “Okay, let’s sneak out
that side door over there.”

Aishling followed the others over to the side entrance
of the church and waited as they snuck out the door. She gazed back at where
they had rested and saw a wrapper. Gasping, she went back, picked it up, and
checked to see if they had left any other evidence. She ran back to the door,
her heart pounding.
Don’t leave me.

Lance came back in. He took her hand and silently
closed the door, then guided her away, motioning for her to keep low and quiet.

They hid behind several bushes.

Moments later, Kelile peered around the bushes and
whispered, “They’re getting in their car.”

Morrigan moved next to him, peeking around the
bushes too. “Stop!” she said as Kelile shoved her, making her lose her balance
and fall backwards.

“You were standing on my foot.”

“Quiet!” Lance said.

Aishling stiffened, listening. When a car engine
started, she gobbled for air, realizing she’d been holding her breath.

Lance gazed over the bushes. “They’re leaving.”

As soon as the car was gone, he guided them to the
first leg of their trek on foot—a dirt road that would lead them to the
Appalachian Trail.

Aishling mentally recited their route for today—
Follow
the Yellow Brick Road. Camp at Silerbald
. She smiled, pleased by the way
Lance and Kelile had seemingly dismissed their questions about what she and
Morri had done last night. But when she glanced over at Morrigan, her smile
evaporated. Morri wore the same frown she had had on her face an hour ago. Was she
ready to give up and go back to Herald Home?
Hopefully not.

Morrigan moaned. “I’m tired, Lance. Can’t we stop
for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, let’s take a quick break.” He led them off
the dirt road to a clear patch of ground underneath a hazelnut tree.

They ate their snacks in silence until Kelile
said, “Okay, girls. What’s this thang about ant spells and chants—enchants … I
think it’s time you two did some explaining.”

Aishling choked on her candy. Kelile and Lance were
staring at her. How could she tell them? She groped for the right words.

“I
knew
you two were voodoo queens when
that little incident happened with my eyes.” Kelile focused on Morrigan. “Come
on, fess up.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Morrigan said,
shifting her eyes to the ground.

“Come on, Aishling, you talk. That one over there
ain’t gonna say nothin’. I’d rather hear from you, anyway. I think she’s the wicked
witch of the West, and you’re the good witch of the East.” Kelile chuckled.

“I am not wicked!” Morrigan stuck her tongue out
at him.

Kelile opened his mouth then shut it.

“Well, I’ll talk about me and my mother.” Aishling
had gathered enough courage to speak. But still, she couldn’t bring herself to
look at Lance yet, afraid he wouldn’t talk to her ever again after this. “My
mother is kind of like a wise woman.”

“You mean witch,” Kelile said.

“That’s what the word
witch
means, idiot,”
Morrigan said, sticking her tongue out at him again.

“Get that thang back in your mouth.”

Aishling inhaled and exhaled. “Right. Ma’s Celtic,
a Celtic witch, but she’s also part Cherokee. You could think of her as a
medicine woman or healer.”

Lance interrupted this time, “Wait, my mother
was
a medicine woman, and she taught me some Cherokee traditions. She never said
anything about witches being medicine women. In fact, the Cherokees don’t like
witches. They think they’re evil.”

Aishling sank to the ground and her throat stung.
How could she convince him that she wasn’t evil? She pressed on, “I know,” she
stressed, “that Ma isn’t evil. And, there were Cherokee people that came to see
her all the time.” She glanced at him, and he shook his head. “You can shake
your head all you want, but it’s true. All kinds of people come to her for
healing
touch
or
soul recovery
, or for her
herbal remedies
and
dream
prophecies
. Everyone loves her, and she doesn’t do anything bad to anyone.
In fact, she taught me to live by the Sacred Creed.”

“What?” Kelile smirked. “Witches have a creed?
What is it? Only do voodoo on Mondays? Or, just partially hurt someone, you know,
make their eyes bleed, but don’t make them go blind?”

“Shut up,” Morrigan said. “You have no idea what
you’re dealing with here.”

“Oh, is that another of your threats?”

“Stop it, you two. Let Aishling finish,” Lance
said.

She glanced at each of them as she wondered why she
hadn’t remembered the Creed before now. “We live by the Sacred Creed
which is:

“I may do as I want as I will as I feel, but may harm
none—neither here and now, nor then and there, nor in the coming of time
anew—for I am of it All as it All is of the One, and you are in me as I am in
you. What I give to the world, be it kindness or pain—what I do with intent, be
it harm or humane—will return to me with the force of three, be it three times
the love or three times the pain.”

“Wait, girl, say that again.” Kelile looked past
her, squinting.

At almost the same moment, Lance said, “I know
this.”

“What do you mean?” Morrigan straightened up.

“Repeat it, good witch.”

She said it again. This time, the others gradually
joined in with her. They knew it! It felt like worms were crawling up her back
and neck, over her shoulders, and down her arms. She didn’t understand what had
just happened. They knew the Sacred Creed. How? “How do you-uns know that?”

Lance said, “My mother taught me that a long time
ago.”

Kelile shook his head and said, “This is creepin’
me out. As you said it, good witch, I had flashbacks of Mom teaching me that,
too. This was before she got married to asshole.”

“I remember my mother teaching me this a long time
ago, too,” Morrigan said, wrapping her arms around her knees.

“Well, what happened to you, voodoo queen? Did you
conveniently forget when you made my eyes bleed?”

“I”—Morrigan balked—“did not make your eyes bleed,
slave boy,
you
did! The first page of my diary warns what will happen if
you read it.
You
chose to read it anyway.”

Stillness smothered Aishling. She hadn’t thought
about the Creed since before her mother had disappeared. Had she now found a
piece of herself?

Kelile interrupted her thoughts. “I just
remembered some other things I haven’t thought about since Mom married him. She
used to tell me stories about a Celtic god, Manannan, who she named me after.”

“Named you after.” Morrigan sneered.

“That’s right, voodoo queen, it’s my middle name.”
He grinned. “Man, this dude could shapeshift into birds. And he had these magical
weapons, like a sword that always hit its target and armor that couldn’t be penetrated.
He also had a cloak that made him invisible.” He chuckled. “When Mom told me this
story once, she said that she’d hidden these weapons in a safe place; and when
the time was right, she’d give them to me.” He glanced at Morrigan. “Don’t you
be lookin’ at me in that tone of voice.”

“Manannan was the son of Lir, god of the sea.”
Lance smiled at Kelile. “Hey, you’re my son. You have to do whatever I tell
you.”

“Are you makin’ fun of me, man?”

“No, I’m telling you the myth. My mother was
Cherokee
and
Irish. When I was younger, she told me a few Celtic myths,
too. My initials spell Lir. In the myth, Manannan was the son of Lir. Mom would
talk about Lir, and Manannan, Cerridwen—which was her middle name—Brigit, and—”

“Brigit?” Aishling said.

“Yes.”

“My mother’s middle name is Brigit.”

“What was that?” Morrigan’s whisper bit through
the conversation. “Listen.”

Aishling heard it then. She looked around,
searching for the source of the noise—a rooting sound, like something chewing and
moving through the brush. She caught sight of bushes swaying behind Lance and
Kelile. Placing her left forefinger on her lips, she slowly rose but dropped to
her knees again.

Stunned, she could only form the word with her
mouth, “Bear!”

Return to Beginning

when time’s flower blossoms,

“
C
ast
the caim.
”

As quickly as Aishling had panicked, she calmed,
responding automatically to the whispered words.

While breathing deeply, she raised her left arm
and rotated it clockwise over her head, using her fingers to draw an imaginary
boundary around them.

Simultaneously, she whispered, “Mother Goddess,
let nothing harmful penetrate the barrier I now draw.” She completed her first
rotation and continued around in the same manner. “Keep us safe within this circle
from all that can harm us.”

After completing the second circle, she rotated
her arm once more. “The first creates the boundary. The second binds our
safety. The third seals this spell. As I say, as I will, so mote it be.” She
finished making the last circle and stating her incantation at the same time.

She had blocked everything else out of her
thoughts
—
only seeing the boundary within her mind’s eye, only hearing
the intentions she whispered. Now, she noticed the others were stock-still.

A black bear the size of a cow lumbered closer. It
stopped at the perimeter of Aishling’s safety circle, closest to Morrigan.

Lance squinted at Morrigan, mouthing the words,
“Don’t move.”

Though remaining steadfast, Morrigan whimpered
once and then puckered her lips.

Aishling struggled with holding her intentions of
safety as the bear lingered, sniffing. Did it sense they were there? Did it smell
them? Did it hear them? See them? She squeezed her eyes shut.
Stop
!
Only
see us safe!

Her eyes burst open when the bear snorted.

After several terrifying seconds, it lowered its
head to the ground and strolled on behind her, beyond her vision. She looked at
Lance, who continued watching it. They sat frozen as statues for countless
minutes until he whispered, “Okay.”

Aishling gulped for air.

Kelile grabbed his chest and leaned forward,
breathing loudly. When he sat up again, he said, “What did you just do, good
witch?”

“I placed us in a
caim
, a circle of
protection. I can’t believe I remembered it. I haven’t thought about that
either until now. Morri, did your mother teach you that?”

“No.” She grimaced. “Why didn’t you use a stabbing
spell? That would’ve gotten rid of it much quicker.” Morrigan gazed behind her,
rubbing her arms.

“Oho, wicked witch of the West. What about the
Creed
—may
harm
none
?”

“Oh, shut up!”

“We’ve got to go.” Lance stood, shaking his
shoulders and neck. “We don’t want to be walking at night. Come on.”

“Okay.” Aishling smiled at him, but he ignored
her. Her smile turned into a pained expression. Was he mad at her again? Did he
think she was evil? Didn’t he realize her safety circle had protected them?

They had been hiking on the same deserted, dirt
road at a brisk pace. Now tired and hungry again, Aishling paused and reached
into her backpack for one of her snacks. Not being used to carrying that much
weight, her shoulders and neck ached. Her feet hurt, too. Lance glanced around
at her and stopped.

“Everyone should eat a snack,” he said, setting
his backpack on the ground. “Drink some water, too. Conserve it, though. We
won’t be able to purify any more until tonight at the shelter.”

“Hey, man,” Kelile said.

“Yeah?”

“My hand is really throbbing. I think it’s
swollen.”

“Let me see.”

Aishling caught up with them.

His hand was swollen and red around the bite.

“It doesn’t look too bad.” Lance released Kelile’s
hand. “If it had been a poisonous bite, your whole arm would have probably been
swollen and had red blotches, or something like that.”

“Or … I’d be dead.” Kelile worked his hand into a
fist then opened it again. “Still hurts, man.”

Aishling moved close to him, thrust ahead by
another memory blossoming within her.

“Whoa, girl, you’re a little too close. Back off.”

“Kelile, if you would let me, I could help you,”
she said as she backed away.

“Just how are you gonna help me, good witch?” He
smiled.

“Well, I could give you healing energy so your
body can heal the bite.”

“How you gonna do that?”

She took off her backpack and vigorously rubbed
her hands together. “I can—”

“Hey, I don’t like the looks of that.”

“Kelile,” Lance said, placing his right hand over
her hands, holding them still. “I do know about this. My mother used to do
this. Sometimes, people came to our house asking for her healing touch. If
Aishling knows how to do this, it might help you feel better.”

Like a rush of wind, the tingling moved from where
he touched her hands through the rest of her body, encouraging her even more.

He dropped his hand from hers.

“Was your mother a witch?” Kelile squeaked.

“No! She was a healer, a medicine woman.” Lance
frowned then stared at the ground.

Morrigan moved closer, touching Lance’s arm with
her fingers. “So, you do understand about us?”

He pulled his arm away. “I don’t understand
anything about you, about witchcraft. I don’t want to, either.” He glared,
first at Morrigan, then Aishling. “But I do know there are healers around,
medicine men and women. My mother was one.”

“Okay, man. If you say so.” Kelile looked at his
hand first, then sandwiched it between Aishling’s hands.

Letting her intuition and memory guide her, she
closed her eyes and searched for the vision her mother had taught her to
concentrate on—a bright golden light. Once she connected with the light, she
opened her senses further, allowing the light to flow from the heavens into the
top of her head. With her inner sight, she envisioned the healing energy
streaming through her neck, her shoulders, her arms, and out her hands. As the
light swirled through her hands, she directed it into Kelile’s hand, silently
chanting, “
I am a channel for the healing light of love.”

Moments later, Kelile said, “Wow, your hands are
hot!”

She didn’t respond, but kept her intentions
focused until she sensed the energies cooling, and then she let go.

He grinned at her while opening and closing his
hand. “This is unreal! It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Glancing from her to Lance to
Morrigan and back to her, he said, “I don’t believe this. All this voodoo, hocus-pocus
stuff is weirdin' me out.”

“There’s gratitude for you.” Morrigan huffed and
stalked away.

Aishling shrugged, picked up her backpack, and
followed her.

Kelile caught up and grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“Hey, good witch, I’m not being ungrateful. I don’t understand that stuff. But
it does feel better. Thank you. I mean it.”