Eliza's Shadow (24 page)

“Well, I’m going to take off now.” Ren said with a
wink and shuffled backward in retreat. He leapt down the stairs out of the room
and pulled the door shut behind him.

There wasn’t much I could do about the rogue
witch, so I decided to push my worries aside. To distract myself, I set about
exploring a section of the greenhouse I’d missed the first time I’d been
invited in by Nan. I snaked through the narrow verdant passageways, following
the trail of a seemingly endless blooming vine that was growing along a
suspended wire, until my path dead-ended in a corner.

The creeping vine draped on the aerial wire
stretched out across the wall forming a fluffy living lattice from ceiling to
floor. A weathered blue cistern sat above a lacy iron pedestal, nestled in the
crook of the room. Miniature orchids and vanilla vines decorated the pedestal
and edges of the bowl. A small fountain of bubbles erupted from the center of
the blue water.

I inspected the sight with confusion because there
didn’t appear to be any piping visible that could explain the fountain. I
peeked into the center of the tub, searching for an explanation. Instantly, the
bubbling fountain dissipated and the water became still. I continued to stare
into the flat water, searching for the source of the bubbles but my mind
wandered as I noticed my reflection staring back at me in the still water. The
image stirred, as if moved by a gentle breeze and soft ripples rolled along the
surface of the water.

When the water grew still again, the reflection
floating on its surface took my breath away. There staring back at me where my
reflection should have been was my mother’s face. For a moment I was overcome
with emotion and longing. Tears sprung to my eyes and I hungrily soaked in the
face that I missed so dearly. She was smiling.

As I studied the image on the water, I noticed her
hair floated airily around her face, like seaweed in a current. Her eyes were a
beautiful deep brown just as I remembered them but they looked vacant and
hallow. The smile on her face was fixed as if melded out of plastic.

The face in the water was a shell, a mockery of my
pain and longing. I forced my eyes shut against the repugnant image and took a
step back. When I opened them again, the reflection was gone and the soft
bubbling fountain had resumed.

“You’ve found my wishing well.” Nan said softly,
stepping close to my side. I hadn’t heard her approach.

“I found the cistern in a flea market years ago
when I was still working for the Service during an assignment in the
Mediterranean. It was crafted by a small tribe of fairies, oh maybe five hundred
years ago or so. Their crafts are quite the collector’s item now. You know that
I’m not a big fan of fairies but they do create beautiful things. Human art and
music can’t hold a candle to that of fairies. The woman who sold the cistern to
me only released it to my custody after discovering my ability to appreciate
it.” She said emphasizing the word
appreciate
and gestured meaningfully.

“It’s meant to reveal desires yet occasionally one
might find truth. A simple illusion but I find it entertaining. Sometimes
people seem to be surprised by what they see.” Nan’s tone had been light but as
she studied my face, her eyes creased with worry.

I took another step back from the cistern just far
enough away to prevent a view of my own reflection. With my eyes trained at the
edge of the bowl, I responded.

“I saw my mother’s face but it wasn’t the way I’d
like to remember her.” My voice cracked.

Nan’s hand settled lightly on my arm and she
pressed against it steering me away from the cistern down one of the narrow
aisles lined with shelves of succulents. Without a word more, I shuffled down
the aisle still reeling from the image of my mother’s face, found in such an
unlikely place.

“Don’t mind what you saw in the water, Eliza. The
well means to pick something from your life that will please you. I’m sorry if
you found something unpleasant.” Nan said apologetically as she continued to
usher me from behind down the narrow aisle.

Why of all things would the fairy well show me a
hideous impersonation of my mother’s face? Why would it think that would please
me? I shook my head to force back tears. Why did my mother’s absence haunt me?

My feet continued to shuffle in response to Nan’s
gentle prodding despite the fact that I was so absorbed in my thoughts I barely
paid attention to the direction. Nan’s subtle shake of my shoulders pulled me
out of the caverns of my mind.

“Eliza? Shall we get started?” She asked
nervously. Her large owl eyes blinked rapidly into my distracted gaze.

I squeezed my eyes shut to refocus then scanned
the contents of a long narrow table that Nan had obviously set for the lesson.
Two rectangular glass cases rested on the table. Each case had been lined with
a layer of rock, sand and soil and contained one plant. The plant in the second
case looked like a small weed but the object resting in the case at the head of
the table was very strange.

“Yeah, let’s get started.” I mumbled stepping
closer to the case at the head of the table, drawn by curiosity.

The object in the case looked like a loose tangle
of crimson yarn. Nan remained silent allowing me to study the bright stringy
knot. The strands looked stiff but pliable and curved and looped around each
other in varying degrees of density. The surface of the top strands gave off a
slick glare below the overhanging globes. I wondered whether they were wet or
slimy and suppressed an urge to reach in and run a finger along one of them.

“What is it?” I asked shifting my gaze to Nan’s
watchful eyes.

Nan took a step closer to the table and bent down
to peer into the case along with me before answering.

“This is called a dodder. I’d like to show you
something, Eliza.” She said.

Rising, she slipped on a pair of gardening gloves and
tossed a pair to me. Then she sauntered down to the middle of the table and
waved for me to follow. She reached into the second case, loosened the soil
around the small plant inside and carefully freed it, roots intact.

“Take this plant and replant it into the case with
the dodder. Make sure you plant it on the opposite end of the case for this
experiment.” She instructed and carefully handed over the small leafy seedling
to me, its wispy roots fanned across my palm.

“Ok.” I responded hesitantly pondering the goal of
the experiment.

I set the plant on the table top next to the case
while I dug a finger sized hole into the potting material at the bottom of the
dodder’s case. I retrieved the small plant and lowered it carefully into the
hole. Something about Nan’s pensive expression made me feel like I was placing
a mouse into a python’s den. Despite the uneasy heat on my cheeks, I stuffed
the little plant’s roots into the hole and tucked the remaining soil around its
base pressing firmly around the stalk to secure it in its new home.

The dodder’s response did not take long. Almost
immediately after I removed my gloved hands from inside the case, the crimson
strands closest to the little green plant stirred as if awakening from slumber.
With the speed of a caterpillar, one of the strands stretched out from the
tangled ball toward the plant and proceeded to slither up its stalk until the
stalk and leaves were entirely entombed in shiny red string. I observed the
process with fascination and mild disgust feeling guilty for my role in the
little plant’s suffocation.

Nan lowered her face to the glass surface and
peered into the case watching the dodder’s movement.

“Come closer Eliza.” She said with excitement.

I bent my head to rest next to hers and stared at
the creeping motion of the dodder.

“Amazing, isn’t it? You see dodders are somewhat
of a half-breed. Flora by definition but they harbor some distinctly fauna-like
qualities. Of course, a dodder’s hunt is generally not this swift. I cast a
speed spell on this one for demonstration purposes. In nature, they have no
reason to rush since their prey can’t run.” She added flippantly with a flutter
of her hand before continuing.

“Notice how the dodder lacks leaves? If we had a
magnifying glass, you would see that each strand is covered in scales. They
identify their prey by scent and then drink from the plants much like a spider
sucks the contents of an insect.” She explained with an air of academic
fascination.

I squinted at the shiny red strands tightening their
grip on the tiny green plant. They definitely appeared more reptilian or
insectival than plantlike. The purposeful way the tentacles consumed its
defenseless prey was unsettling. I wasn’t used to thinking of plants as
predators and it made me a bit uneasy considering my surroundings.

“Why is this important to us?” I asked, earnestly
wondering how or why I would ever use the knowledge.

Nan stood and squinted down at me pursing her lips
before answering.

“It’s all important or not important at all if you
don’t use your creativity to apply it to your craft.” She snipped.

I frowned, surprised by Nan’s tone. I may have
been trying my best to put the cistern experience behind me but my emotions
were still raw and her disapproval stung more than it normally would.

Nan must have felt guilty for hurting my feelings
because a look of remorse pulled at the corners of her eyes. She laid a hand on
my arm.

“I didn’t mean to sound cross, Eliza. My point is
just that you must expand your perspective when it comes to the craft. Think of
the elements of witchcraft as branches on a tree. Your innate gifts are one
branch, which you will learn to stretch and strengthen through practice and
concentration. Your primer will guide your journey to maturity in that respect.
The art of herbology, spells and casting is an entirely separate branch. These
disciplines are entwined and dependent upon each other. The mastery of these
arts is a creative and academic process. Here, take a seat and I’ll explain
further.” She urged and pulled two chairs from against the wall allowing us to
sit at the table.

Nan dipped her hand into a deep pocket on the
front of her gardening apron and retrieved a pocket sized hardback book. She
laid it on the tabletop.

The title of the small book was embossed on the
cover in bold silver letters,
The Herbologist Field and Garden Guide
. The pristine booked looked
new and the binding creaked when Nan opened it, revealing bright white,
untouched pages.

“This is for you, and believe me, this manual will
become invaluable to you over the course of your career.” Nan instructed before
licking the tip of her finger to shuffle through the pages.

After a few moments of flipping she tipped her
head back to better view the pages through the lower bifocal section of her
glasses.

“Mmm, this is a new addition, it’s organized
differently than my copy. Now where is it?” She mumbled.

Finally giving up the search, she flipped hastily
to the back of the book to consult the index.

“Ah, here it is, Dodder, page 134.” She smiled and
turned to the page.

The top of the page was decorated with a black and
white sketched picture of a dodder in the process of strangling a plant.

“Now, Eliza, you asked how knowledge of a dodder’s
behaviors and characteristics could be of use to you.” She said.

“See here in the book is a listing of the dodder’s
properties.” She said tapping her finger at a list below the sketch.

Properties:

- Smooth

- Scaled

- Acute sense of smell

- Strangulatory

- Predatory

- Stubborn

- Voracious

Lifting her gaze from the book, Nan focused on the
talisman dangling from my neck and reached out a finger to tap the satchel of
herbs with a knowing smile on her lips.

“Now, can you imagine how you might utilize the
dodder’s characteristics to your advantage?” She asked solicitously.

My brain swelled with understanding and a smile
spread across my face.

“We use plants to cast spells with the same
characteristics? Is that what you mean?” I asked, wondering if I was on the
right track.

Nan bobbed her head from side to side.

“Well, that is one way of looking at it. Rather,
you can use plants to activate or strengthen spells. Think witch’s cauldron,
Eliza.” She emphasized with an amused laugh.

“The power of plants is leveraged extensively when
working spells.” She said nodding again toward the talisman against my chest.

Nan’s eyes darted down to the book on the table
again and she began scanning the next couple of pages.

“Here you see this book provides a few examples of
simple spells that utilize dodders. Because of the unique qualities dodders
possess they can be useful in both offensive and defensive spells.” She
explained with her nose in the book, studying the spells outlined.

A series of questions swirled in my head.

“What do you mean by offensive and defensive?” I
asked.

“Well, for example, the spell I cast upon you to
protect you from the Shadow would be considered a defensive spell because it
offers protection against an attacker. But here…” She said, drawing out her
words as her eyes scanned the page before her.

“This is a fairly simple offensive spell utilizing
a dodder.” She said.

I looked down at the page displayed before me. The
instructions for the spell were written like a recipe in a cookbook.

Stop a Gossip

This easy spell
will stop gossip by strangulating the vocal cords of the speaker before nasty
comments escape. The spell can be applied to one person or attached to the
gossip item itself thus affecting any person who attempts to spread it.