Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (27 page)

“I nodded in reply and cast my gaze to Becky,
who was deep in her own thoughts, perhaps she could not bear to
listen to this story unfold once more.

“Well, Zachariah is no fool. He knows that
you are fond of Becky and he is out for revenge. Zachariah told
Becky tonight that she will be given to Abigail and her new husband
as a wedding gift before they return to Virginia,” Martha said
through gritted teeth.

“What?” I stammered.

Becky dropped her face into her hands and
wept. I ran over and placed my arms around her. “We will find a way
to get you out of this Becky. I promise,” I choked through my
tears.

Martha continued to tell me the extent of the
problem as I comforted Becky, “There is more to worry about though.
Isaac is not the Marthaler's slave. He is the Smith's property and
will not be able to go with Becky.”

At these words, Becky's whole body shuttered
and she clung tightly to me. “I do not understand?” I said.

Martha paced the floor as she spoke, “You
see, slaveholders have rules over every aspect of their slaves’
lives Aislin. We are not allowed to marry. At least they think
they've stopped us from marrying, and if a slave has a child, then
that child becomes property of the slaveholder. Some new mothers
have their children taken from their arms moments after delivery,
never to see the child again. Even if the slave was indentured and
got to the end of their seven years of service, if they chose to
leave and to be free, they would also choose to leave their child
behind with the slaveholders. That is why I stayed here, so that I
could be with Becky.”

I felt my throat constricting from the tears
that I was struggling to hold back. My family did not own slaves
and other than what my mother had told me, and the obvious aspects
that I witnessed daily, there was much that I did not understand.
Now what I was learning was so enraging, so vile, that my whole
view of humanity was changing. Then my mind drifted to the
quintessential slaveholder, Zachariah.

“This must have been what Abigail had warned
me about. She told me that her brother was up to something, and to
be on guard. Maybe the Smith's can take Becky back?” I
suggested.

“No, Zachariah will not allow that. He is
doing this specifically to hurt you Aislin. He wants both Becky and
Abigail to leave you. Worse still, we have heard many rumors about
Sutphin's cruelty toward his help. He is said to be even worse then
the Marthalers and finds pleasure in torturing his slaves, even
when they do things exactly how he likes. People say that if he is
not pleased with a female servant he will sell her to a
brothel.”

“What about magic? Can we not find a spell
that would stop this?” I was desperate to save Becky and would
gladly risk the exposure of my magic to do so.

Becky and I stared at Martha with the same
pleading expression. Martha was wise and powerful, and knew more
about magic then Becky and I put together. Surely, she could do
something to stop Zachariah.

Martha sighed, “Girls, you must remember that
any spell we cast will come back to us three fold. It will take
great thought to find a spell for this mess we're now in. I have no
idea what spell we could cast, but I will ask for our ancestor's
guidance.”

“I will too,” I replied.

I let go of Becky and reached into my pocket
for the book, Sneachta leapt onto my shoulder and meowed. She also
thought this was a good idea. I went to the table to place the book
on it, but my attention was upon Martha.

I watched as she opened a hidden cupboard
that blended into the cabin wall. Held inside of it was an altar.
On the altar sat candles, flowers, a small pot of dirt, a
handkerchief and nine glasses of water. She lit the candles with a
wave of her hand and a strong magic filled the room, flowing
through it as though carried by wind.

“The ancestors are with us tonight,” Martha
said, with a tone of reverence.

Martha asked her ancestors for guidance and
protection for all of us. She refused to rush into spell casting
without great thought and consultation with the spirits beforehand.
Becky and I understood, but were both restless and wanted to do
something, anything, to place a plan into action. Martha saw the
frustration that was churning inside of us and she suggested that I
try scrying while Becky made us, and more importantly, the
ancestor's supper.

I stood hunched over the table staring into a
bowl of water trying to see anything that might be helpful, but my
second sight failed me.

I was having a horrible time concentrating,
as my thoughts were equally split between Becky and Greer. I had
not seen Greer since the early hours of the morning, when he
brought me to Martha's home and then disappeared into the darkness.
I wondered if he had traveled far in search of food, or had chosen
to stay close by and look after me.

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to
concentrate on him, wondering if I could sense him, but I felt
nothing. I had grown accustomed to having him near me. This new
separation, and the emptiness that accompanied it, was
excruciating. I could not concentrate enough to scry, so I decided
to pray to the Goddess for help.

I pulled a candle out of my pillowcase, lit
it, and set it on the table. I said some incantations to bless the
candle for my intentions and then proceeded to beg the Goddess for
help. Sneachta stayed close to me as I quietly pleaded for guidance
and intervention for Becky and Isaac's sake. By the time I had
finished I felt calm, as though my words were heard and great magic
was now working on our behalf.

Becky gently lifted my candle off the table
and placed it near the hearth. I then got up and helped her set the
table. Four place settings were laid out—one for Martha, one for
Becky, one for me, and one for the ancestors.

That night, Martha helped me bathe and gave
me medicine to help with the pains of my cycle. She tried to give
me her bed and insisted that she would take the chair, but I
refused. In the end, we shared the bed.

In actuality, it did not matter if I took the
bed, the chair, or the floor itself—I could not sleep. Every time I
closed my eyes, I saw Greer's face and I felt my soul try to pull
right out of my body. It was a sensation that is difficult to
explain, except to say that my spirit wanted so badly to be with
Greer that it kept threatening to leave my body behind to search
for him. In return, I felt overwhelming grief and anguish.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I had not seen Greer, nor had I been home in
two days. I had thought that he would have returned me to my
parent's home each morning, the way he always did when I stayed
with him at the Inn. I wondered how my mother explained my absence
to my father. I would venture to guess that she said I was ill from
my cycle and was held up in my room.

I was alone in Martha's cabin. Sneachta had
gone to hunt, Martha and Becky were tending to their masters, and
Isaac was with his father. I had hoped that Greer would see me
alone and visit for a while, but as the hours slowly passed, I
spent them in solitude.

I filled my time by practicing lighting a
candle with my mind, and I found that I had mastered the exercise
quickly. Martha had been teaching me much of her magic, and working
with the element of fire had become one of my favorite tasks.

“It is not a simple trick for entertainment
Aislin,” Martha said before she started to teach me, “This is a
sign of a powerful witch and it is also extremely helpful when you
need to perform your candle magic but do not have the means to
light the candle.”

It had taken some practice, but after a
while, I could see a little spark ignite. At the sight of this,
Martha clapped her hands and smiled broadly, “That's it my little
girl. You are doing it!”

Soon after that, with my confidence boosted,
I lit a beautiful, tall and strong flame. Martha then began to
teach me how to extinguish the candle in the same manner.

“This is just as important. There have been
many occasions when just being able to turn out the flames in haste
has saved me from being discovered in the Craft,” she said
solemnly.

Now, days later, I sat in the chair, lighting
and extinguishing the candle that was placed on the table before
me, desperately waiting for any sign from the outside world. I had
watched the sunrise this morning and had hoped that I would find
Greer waiting for me, yet the morning greeted me with
loneliness.

I was beginning to worry now.
What if
Lamont had caught Greer? Worse still, what if the Puca had gotten
to Greer?
These thoughts made me so anxious that I felt all the
muscles in my shoulders and neck stiffen, causing my head to throb.
I curled up into a ball on the chair and covered myself with the
blanket that had been on my lap. Sleep finally came to me through
sheer exhaustion.

********************

I moved slowly, with great care, as I had
never attempted to leave my body on my own before. Last time Greer
had guided me, but on this occasion, I found myself alone. I was
not sure why my spirit had decided to travel cosmically. Perhaps
there was something the Goddess wanted me to see.

I looked back at the chair and saw the covers
moving up and down rhythmically. It was comforting to know that my
body was still breathing. I walked around the little cabin until I
gained enough courage and then I walked straight through the front
door, leaving Martha's cabin behind me.

The day was still bright as I worked my way
out of the slave quarters and onto the main thoroughfare. As I
passed by a garden patch, I came across Sneachta, who was busy
sticking her paw into a chicken coupe and making all the poor birds
squawk and cluck in anger. As I passed her, I noticed that she
stopped what she was doing and started to follow me. She trotted up
beside me and walked at my heels as I moved along the street, not
knowing what I was looking for.

“You can see me Sneachta?” I asked in
amazement

She looked up at me and let out a soft
'
meow'
in reply.

“You really are a remarkable faerie,” I
replied, “Do you know where I am supposed to go?”

She picked up her pace until she was walking
in front of me, guiding me through the crowd that was going about
their daily lives.

Children were running about as their mother’s
worked their way through the shops. A strong wind blew from the
river, sending gusts of frigid air down the main streets.
Businessmen pulled their coats tightly closed as they fought
against the wind. Merchants went from store to store, their goods
flying out of the baskets they carried. An occasional carriage made
its way up the street and toward the port. Even the horses looked
cold
.

When we reached the tavern, Sneachta stopped
outside the door and stared at it
.
I was
supposed to go inside

“Ok, but you stay here,” I said.

Sneachta then leapt onto the trunk of a great
tree that stood near the tavern door and climbed up. She finally
rested herself on a long, thick branch that overlooked the tavern’s
windows.

I walked through the doors, not knowing what
to look for, but certain that something would guide me to where I
needed to go.

Trust in the magic
, I told myself.

The tavern was quiet. Only a few patrons were
seated inside. I had never spent much time in this place, and as I
looked around, I was surprised at how large it appeared. The room
was adorned with many windows, which let in a decent amount of
light, but the tavern was sparsely lit inside, only the tables
where patrons sat had candles on them. Shadows veiled every corner
and crevice of the room, giving the establishment an ominous air.
There were many rectangular tables set up for patrons, and a large
bar sat on the very left side of the room, with numerous stools
placed in front of it. On the opposite side from the bar was a
staircase that led to the lodging of the Inn.

I moved closer to see Zachariah and an older
man sitting at a table, drinking and seeming to have a merry time.
I thought that this must be where I was supposed to go, but I was
tempted to go upstairs to Greer's room. I listened to their
conversation for a moment. They were talking of the weather, of
crops, and the local comings and goings of Burlington. From the
sound of the conversation, it seemed as though the stranger wanted
to purchase land here. Finding no great importance in their
conversation I started for the stairs, but something caught my
attention—a tugging on my dress, just like the day at the port.

I looked all around and saw nothing of
importance, until I heard a soft creaking noise above me. I looked
up and saw Greer lying upon the rafters, over the heads of
Zachariah and the old man, but staring directly at me.

I was caught in his gaze. His expression was
transfixed upon me and he motioned for me to come to where he
sat.

At first, I tried climbing my way up to him,
but the height to the roof was so great that I felt it was
impossible.

“Jump,” I heard his voice say in my head.

I leapt up into the air and moved as though I
was floating. I seated myself beside him and let my legs swing back
and forth from the wooden beam that I sat on.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered, as
he stared down at the two men below us.

“I do not really know. I just feel asleep and
when I awoke, I was in spirit. Sneachta led me here,” I
whispered.

“You shouldn't be here Aislin. You are not
safe out on your own . . . even in spirit,” he replied with a hint
of annoyance.

I did not answer, but listened to what was
going on below us. They were bellowing out drinking songs now, an
activity that hardly seemed worthy of my attention and certainly
not worthy of my ears.