The Wittering Way (3 page)

I nodded my understanding. “So, why were they talking about this? You said a lesson?”

Yewsy nodded and sipped her cold tea. Her eyes wandered to Mint, who was sitting in the center of the floor, levitating her dolly. “I think so.”

“How did she meet an outsider? They never come this far into our forest.”

“I have no idea. But he must have crossed the Silver Veil somehow. The point is, he brought tech from his side and Carh was telling Effie that the Prosee mother, Kifly, they called her, became enamored of it and began incorporating the machines into her magic.”

“And that’s how it all started?” I was aghast. “How long ago?”

She scratched her head thoughtfully. “It’s been in our time. We were atrebuds, I think. Newly birthed.”

I sighed sadly. “So much has changed so quickly. I remember Mother meeting with Ambley Resin to exchange jams. So the foremother fell in love with a Human? How?” I asked again.

“He probably wandered from his lands, crossed over, then got lost in the forest, much as many Meab do.” Yewsy rose and carried her mug to the washbasin.

My gaze found Mint, and I watched as she chanted a mundane working to make her dolly grow hair the color of mine. Frustrated by no result, she groaned and looked up expectantly.

“You have to wrap the working, Mint. It won’t work unless you say ”˜for the good of all’.”

She smiled at me and slowly blinked bright blue eyes. “Oh, I forgot.” She shook her head and mimed as if berating herself for forgetting. Freyan nudged her playfully.

“Humans usually have no contact with the Witta. Or the Brinc, for that matter. I can’t imagine the two falling in love. Humans are so...” Words failed Yewsy.

“Well...big,” I offered. “And they smell very strange.”

“Yes, and they are ruled by laws that go contrary to nature. They don’t even have fammies.”

“And don’t forget the machines,” I reminded her. “They call them industrial revolution, my grandmother Glory once told me.”

“SO, CLEOME, WHAT are you going to do?” Yewsy asked, her gaze pinning me. She knelt on her chair and rested her forearms on the table. Brennen flattened himself on the worn wooden top as if awaiting my answer, as well.

I sighed again and leaned back in my chair. I fondled Afton, comforted by his trill of pleasure. “I have to go rescue her. Who knows what they are doing to her? I...I can’t just...ignore this.”

I let Afton go and leaned forward until Yewsy and I were almost nose-to-nose. “I hate Signe Ray for destroying my join.”

Yewsy gasped and Brennen rose to spin rapidly. “We are not allowed to hate, Cleome.” She looked around as if fearing the wrath of the forest would descend.

Speaking of hate was forbidden for it set a whole new set of energies into action. I could never take this back now that I’d said it aloud. The only way now was forward into this hate. I had to resolve it, even if my death was the result.

Yewsy moaned and covered her face with her hands. “So, now you have to go and, to keep you in one piece, I will have to go, too. I am not ready for this.”

I straightened my back. “There is no need for you to go. This is a path I must walk alone.”

She eyed me with amused disdain. “Umhm,” she replied.

She rose and opened the magic cupboard. She took out seven green candles and placed them on the workbench. She hummed the tones that would awaken the slumbering Lares, or house sprites, as she moved about the room gathering specific items. Mint approached, bringing her doll with her, fingers tangled in the long, black tresses the doll had magically grown.

“What are you doing, sister?” she asked, horizontally seesawing the doll on the heavy wooden worktable.

“We have to find Avapeony, so we can go rescue her,” Yewsy replied absently. She made an inverted triangle with the candles. The censer went into the center and she set it alight, as well as the candles. I came close and she took a handful of precious salt and scattered it in a circle around us.

“Would you like to sing us in, Mint?” she asked her sister.

Mint smiled, closed her eyes and began the working welcome.

Seven sacred shining ones speak words of power bright

Illuminated beings fill us with your light

Choices that we make tonight must stand the test of time

Step by step and stone by stone the future we will climb

Yewsy smiled indulgently and caressed Mint’s cheek. “Very good! Now, stand back a bit.”

“Anima mea, turbata et valde, usquequo,” Yewsy said, then muttered it twice more.

I leaned into the magic, Afton heavy on my shoulder. “Anima mea, turbata et valde,” I said in concert. Where was my sister?

A room appeared in the air before us. It was a sterile room, lacking the comforts beyond necessity.

“Ubi...ubi.. Anima mea turbata,” I whispered.

Avapeony strode into view. She still wore her brightest tunic and her best leggings and looked unharmed. Her long, auburn hair was unbound, disheveled, and the charcoal around her eyes was smeared, however. She was pacing the room, arms wrapped about herself for comfort. Kes, her fammie, hung limply next to her shoulder. She was no doubt exhausted by the battle and resultant abduction and could provide Avapeony with little comfort.

The image began to fade but was overlapped by a map leading from Witta lands into the Brinc village. As expected, Avapeony was being held at the large, white citadel in the center of the village square.

“We’ll never get in,” Yewsy breathed. “How can we get in there? We don’t even look like them anymore. We’ll stand out...they may even kill us with those...those machine thingies they carry. No. No, we can’t, Cleome!”

Mint looked from her sister to me, awaiting my response. I studied her sweetness, her innocence. What could I say? I knew what had to be done.

“Leaving the center of the circle,” I said to Yewsy, making the exit gesture for the Lares. I stepped over the salt and moved toward the door. At the portal, I paused and looked back. I wanted to burn an image of the two of them in my mind.

After leaving the Straw cottage, I followed the well-worn, tree-bordered path from their join to Widdershin join. Seeing the deserted, desecrated cottage again filled me with fear and sadness, and I could feel Afton respond in kind.

“Oh, Afton! What have they done?” I wailed.

Afton brought forth my mother’s happy, loving visage and showed it to me, seeking to soothe my grief. It did, but only momentarily. I shook Afton off and approached the gaping doorway. Pigeons had come in, and a fawn, but I paid them no mind. Instead, I moved through the home, righting what I could. Fetching scattered items from the floor, I worked to reset the worktable. Several candles were broken, some vials shattered. There was primrose oil, though, and sandalwood. I used these for a protection working, drawing the runes upon our most powerful waxen image. I sent it to Avapeony but also marked it for myself. I had a feeling I would need whatever defense I could generate.

Leaving the working to burn down into action, I went into my cell and sorted through the mess Signe’s men had made of my clothing. I found my cloak, an extra pair of leggings, two tunic tops, and my old, beaten-up felt hat. I placed the hat on my head, ignoring Afton’s protests, and pushed the clothing into a cloth pack. My daggers had remained undisturbed under a stack of coverings, so I added them. I found there my wood-bound grimoire, as well, which contained all my lengthy magic lessons. Holding it grounded me.

I thought of my mother’s book and raced back to the worktable to find it. Panic set in when it wasn’t immediately visible, but Afton finally sensed it off to one side. Tossed rudely against one of the timber walls, the grimoire now lay twisted at the foot of that wall. I went to it and gingerly straightened the spine and the pressed paper within. Mother’s book was bigger than mine, of course, and would be a challenge to carry. But I couldn’t leave it. I could leave mine behind, of course, and carry hers, but mine had been a gift from Mother and her sister Mothers to celebrate my first moon working. It was very special to me, and I did not wish to part from it. I sighed and stuffed both into my bag. Perhaps I could glean some information from Mother’s book during my long, solitary journey to the Brinc lands.

I stood in the center of the common room. Any journey requires a path bag so I began compiling mine. I grabbed my favorite pouch from the wall pegs and moved to the worktable. I selected a handful of candle stubs, a small vial of energy oil, tinder sticks, a sage bundle, and a horn cup for drinking as well as mixing. I searched until I found carnelian for fire, a small feather for air, a shell for water and a stone for earth. I took a holey stone and a pointy stone for the deities and an ouanga bag that was still empty. I filled it with salt and pulled the cinch tight.

What else? I studied the disheveled worktable, my left hand gathering a small sack of rolled incense. My right hand instinctively went for acorns although I had no idea why I would need them. It was unlikely I would need to engender a storm in the deep forest.

I turned away then felt myself whirled back around. Something was nudging Afton and he wouldn’t allow me to leave.

“What?” I snapped, not even trying to hide my irritation.

He showed me several long, beaded necklaces, an aventurine stone and a peridot. Of course, pocket magic and healing stones. Always necessary.

“Thanks, brother,” I muttered, stuffing the items into my bag. I strode toward the door but turned to look back.

My entire life had been centered around this one small, nondescript cottage. Mother’s powerful energy had brought seeking vines which covered it with greenery all year long, with flowers in spring and brilliant color when the weather cooled. The home was filled with the intriguing scents of magic and fire. Shy Fey and Lares lived in each wooden or plant crevice and tree Mothers surrounded it on all sides. I hated to leave but vowed to return. With Avapeony. The two of us would fill it with life and laughter again.

Afton purred against my shoulder.

“Yes, it’s time,” I told him. And myself.

I TURNED AT the doorway and settled the plank door into the frame. I knew our animal friends would be able to get in through the window anyway, but it felt right and true to block the portal. I was looking down at the floorboards, saddened by my departure, so I didn’t see them at first. Nevertheless, I sensed them finally and turned, lifting my gaze.

“We couldn’t let you go alone,” Yewsy said quietly.

There were seven of them, all birthmates or close. Two of the Basil join, Lemon and Saffron were there, both small but heavily muscled from herb work. Saffron looked like her mother, Airgialla, and while both of them had Airgialla’s deep green eyes and golden hair, Lemon had the more square jaw of a male Meab. Both fammies were female, healthy and clear in appearance.

I turned to Memo and Talew of Lore join. Memo was Avapeony’s closest friend, almost a sister, so I knew her well. Talew had been birthed later and I’d never had the opportunity to get close to him. Memo’s fammie, a young male named Higen, boldly approached and nudged me in welcome.

Capel from Song join stood alone, the only representative of her join. Tiny and petite like others of her join, her long, unruly blond curls seemed to overpower her slight body. Yet she had sung for us at Beltane many times, and I knew the power of her large voice. Her fammie, Walsh, was a powerful seer and had often brought Capel to our cottage to share insights with my mother.

Striding up from the rear was RoseIII himself, the son of Olive, Mother of Thorn join. His mother was a very powerful, very old wit. She alone had caused the final Human to stumble from our lands just before the Silver Veil was put into place. Her powers of bewitchment were strong.

And Yewsy, my dear, dear Yewsy, made seven. All were prepared for travel, as well, each carrying a parcel of their possessions and a path bag of magic.

“But, I...” I was made voiceless by their courage and support.

“Avapeony was my birth mate,” Memo reminded me, the set of her small mouth determined.

I was taken aback. And uncharitably worried. How much would so many of them slow me down? I also understood, somewhat bitterly, that I would be responsible for their safety.

Safety. I shook my head at my outlandish thoughts. It was insane to think that some tribe of the Meab peoples would hurt another tribe. Afton brushed against me and I had a sudden awareness, surely from him. The Brinc clan had killed my join. They had taken my sister from me.

I glanced at RoseIII and nodded a welcome. Olive was an influential wit, and I was surprised that his join would allow involvement in this endeavor.

“Your Mothers permit—”

“They know, but are not joyful,” RoseIII said, his gaze meeting mine. “They worry about harm befalling us, but such violence cannot be allowed. A meeting of Meab wit has been called.”

“And the Mothers stay for that,” I said, nodding my understanding.

“And the grown men and very young of the joins stay to feed and care for the Mothers and for one another,” he replied.

I knew the ways of wit and knew the Mothers would never stop conversing until a resolution was reached. This new resolution, and maybe even others, would be broached to Brinc much as the earlier treaty had been. War would be avoided at all cost. The rescue of Avapeony had to be left to us, those in maiden and youth stages only, just finding our wit. I knew that usually such discovery of personal magic was very potent but quite often hard to predict and control. I shook my head in doubt. Then again, perhaps our smaller senses would pose less a threat than older wits descending upon the Brinc village.

“Do you think she’s still...” Lemon drew my attention. He stepped forward and impaled me with his bright green eyes. His sister Saffron took his arm and pulled him close for security.

Yes, I could protect these young friends. And they would protect me. Together we would be stronger than any one of us alone. This was right and true.