Seeing Magic (The Queen of the Night Series Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

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I woke up to find bright sunshine streaming in through the window. The bedside clock told me it was noontime. Shocked that I’d slept so late, I jumped out of bed and ran into the kitchen. The most delicious smells seduced me. Fiona pulled a baking sheet of something heavenly from the oven.

She looked at me. “Were you able to get back to sleep?”

“Yeah, I slept pretty soundly.” I responded, looking around at the bustle of activity.

“How do you feel?”

“Pretty good, why didn’t you wake me?  What can I do to help?”

“We didn’t need to disturb your sleep again. We have it under control.”

They indeed had everything under control. She had several serving bowls covered in plastic wrap laid out on the counter. As I perused the contents, my mouth started to water. Fiona had made delicious looking salads out of the produce we had harvested from the farm. She’d added ingredients gathered from the backyard garden. One of the salads contained the baby zucchini and tomatoes I had picked myself. She’d added a few of her fresh herbs, goat cheese, fresh mozzarella and an oil and vinegar blend. Suddenly, my stomach growled with hunger.

Fiona must have either heard it, or guessed from the look on my face, because she said, “Help yourself to a couple of meat pies, but only take a couple. You know how much the gnomes like them.”

I didn’t need to be invited twice. Grabbing one of the still warm pastries from the baking sheet, I took a bite. The dough flaked off in my mouth.

Behind me, Ginger giggled. “Youngsters are always in such a hurry. Mistress Maggie, why don’t you sit down and enjoy your meal?  You might even use dishes and utensils.”

It smelled so good I was only slightly embarrassed by my lack of manners. Grabbing a plate, a fork and a second pie, I headed for the dining room. Ginger brought me a glass of milk, and I was content to eat and watch the others work. All of the Brownies diligently packed up the food and supplies we would contribute to the Litha celebration. Fiona had backed the truck up to the front steps of the cabin, and the Brownies formed an assembly line as they loaded the packages into it. I finished my brunch and dressed quickly so I could help.

Once everything was loaded Fiona said, “Let’s get going. If we set up quickly enough, there’ll be time to rest before the party starts.”

I wasn’t really surprised when she drove straight to the same parking lot we’d visited last night. This time several vehicles were also parked in the lot. Fiona grabbed her medical bag in one hand and a large willow basket in the other. I stacked a couple of boxes on top of each other, picked them up and followed Fiona down the trail.

When she reached the wishing well she stopped. She placed the willow basket on the ground next to the well. It was filled with sprigs of an herb I couldn’t immediately identify. She plucked one of the sprigs out of the basket and handed it to me. I had to balance the boxes on the edge of the well while I shoved it into the front pocket of my jean shorts.

“It’s Rue,” she said. “The herb is supposed to be unappealing to the Sidhe. If you keep a sprig on you, they should leave you alone and afflict their mischief on another person. I doubt anything would stop them if they really wanted to hurt someone. Nevertheless, people will be comforted to have it available. I expect several upset faces in the crowd when they realize the entire Sidhe is in attendance tonight. I wish I knew their intentions.”

***

The clearing with the standing stones was much more awe-inspiring in the daylight, since I could clearly see how vast it was. Right away, I noticed something surprising. Colors had been muted by the dim fairy lights. In the sunshine, I easily recognized the stone that comprised all of the pillars in the clearing. My mother called it Pennsylvania Bluestone. I remembered this because we used flagstones of the same rock to create a walking path through our plot in the community garden. When we had first started cultivating the plot, we’d found it difficult to work after a heavy rainstorm because of the mud. Mom took us to a local garden store to pick out a couple of paving stones. She had gasped with delight when she saw the blue flagstones and had said they reminded her of home.

“This is Pennsylvania Bluestone,” I commented as I reached up to touch one of the pillars.

Fiona replied, “Actually, we think they were quarried from this very mountain. They don’t call the range the Blue Ridge Mountains for nothing. Apparently, the harmonic frequencies of this stone combine with the nexus of several ley lines at this location, and make the sacred meadow a very magical place. At least we think that’s what’s happening. The standing stones predate all history, even that of the local Native Americans who lived here before the first settlers arrived.”

“Why are the stones in the shape of a figure eight?”

“The two overlapping circles form a ‘vesica piscis’ symbol. It’s an ancient symbol of peace. The Sidhe probably know more about why it is here, but they won’t tell us.” 

As I stared around at the ancient mysterious site, I was struck with sadness that my mother never shared any of this with either me or my brother. We had a deeply interesting heritage, and knew nothing about it. I vowed silently to confront her with these questions the next time we spoke.

At least twenty people worked in the clearing. Within the center of the left-hand circle, the one which housed the portal used by the fairies the night before, several men stacked wood for a bonfire. They had built a small one from logs and branches with hay stuffed in the cracks. Several feet away from the bonfire sat a few other stacks of wood. A couple of the stacks held large logs, one held kindling. There were a few hay bales stationed around as well.

In the other circle, people were setting up a large cluster of folding tables and chairs for the feast. Around the edge of the circle they’d set up more tables to form a buffet. These tables already had a great deal of food. A couple of large grills, a smoker, many coolers, and plastic tubs filled with ice for beverages stood around the clearing. Fi and I headed for the buffet tables first. I put my boxes down and started unloading their contents. Fi talked to a couple of young men who’d been setting up dining tables. They left the clearing.

“The boys will unload the rest from the truck. Let’s grab one of these folding tables and set up the medical station.”  I helped her pick up a long table and we lugged it over to a space right outside the standing stones. Fiona had chosen to set up the first-aid station where the two circles overlapped. This put us on the opposite side of the clearing from the trail that led to the parking lot, but centrally located between the diners and the fire. We’d just gotten the table in place, when I saw Duncan approaching us carrying a large trunk. It had attached wheels, but Duncan seemed to prefer to lift it anyway.

As he reached Fiona he said, “I saw your truck in the lot and thought you could use a hand.” 

Fiona walked up to him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You guessed right. Thanks so much.” 

Duncan returned the kiss on her cheek.
Ewww
, I thought. Old people shouldn’t show affection in public. Besides, Fiona shouldn’t have a romantic relationship since she was the Great Healer and there were rules against it. Then I remembered what Duncan had said. The rule stated she couldn’t marry, but she could fool around and I felt a little queasy.

Fiona got back to business soon enough and she opened the trunk which contained basic medical supplies. She found a plastic tablecloth that had a red cross printed on the front of it, and I helped her use clips to attach it to the table. Duncan headed toward the buffet area. Fiona set up a few of the supplies. She’d laid out several gauze bandages, an antiseptic spray, a pot of pure aloe and the poultice she used for treating burns. She left the rest of the supplies along with her medical bag in the trunk and closed the lid. Duncan came back with a couple of folding chairs and the medical table was ready.

Between us and the way out was the huge stone table where she’d treated the water nymph. We headed there next. Several plastic storage bins were already sitting on the ground next to the table.

“Maggie, go through these bins and see if you can find the altar cloth,” she called over to me.

“This is an altar?” I asked as I pulled off a lid and started rummaging through a bin.

“Well yes, Litha isn’t just an excuse to party. It’s a holy day. It’s the day when we give thanks to the King of the Sun and celebrate his blessings of warmth and light.”

“I think I’ve heard this before,” I muttered as I discovered a huge pile of golden yellow cloth in a bin. I pulled it out and walked over to the stone slab. We spread the fabric over the stone as if we were laying out a table cloth. I stood back as she placed several items carefully on the altar. There were four yellow and orange pillar candles, as well as several arrangements of freshly cut daisies, black-eyed susans, sunflowers and other summertime flowers tucked artfully into baskets. She arranged these at either end of the altar. Then she pulled out two identical brass and gold statues, each about a foot in height. They were equal-armed crosses surrounded by a circle standing on a pedestal.

“What are those?”

“This is the ancient symbol for the sun,” she replied matter-of-factly as she placed them about four feet apart in the center of the altar.

When she was finished she said, “We’ll just check on the preparations for the bale rolls and we can head back home for a rest before sundown.” 

I was curious as to what bale rolls were so I followed her back onto the trail. When we’d reached the truck she got in without comment so I did the same. She drove back onto the paved road and headed down the mountain. I’d expected her to make the turn onto the drive that led to the cabin but she continued to follow the road down toward the river. Soon after we’d past the turn-off for her cabin the pavement ended. I could see that the road continued unpaved all the way down to the water’s edge.

She parked the truck at the end of the pavement and got out. I followed. On either side of the road someone had placed tall stacks of hay bales. On my side of the road a wooden crate sat next to the hay. It was packed with bottles of lighter fluid and a couple of barbeque lighters.

“This doesn’t look healthy.”

She just laughed and said, “Boys will be boys. It looks like they’ve done all the work here though. What do you say we head back home?”

When we’d reached the cabin she said, “Remember it’s tradition to stay up all night until you can greet the King of the Sun himself at sunrise so you should get rest now while you can. You may not be able to fall asleep, but you should at least relax. Take a hot bath, read a book or just lie down. It’s gonna be a long night.”

***

I took her advice and took a bubble bath. Then I settled into Aunt Rose’s reading chair with one of the mystery novels I’d checked out of the library. I pulled the quilt over me and enjoyed the cozy atmosphere.

I was back in the stream. The neon green haze floated over the entire thing. As far upstream as I could see, and as far downstream as was visible before the creek turned and was lost to the forest, the ominous cloud of poison floated over the water. At my feet the gas parted to reveal a body lying prone under the surface. It was Easnadh and she was dead. As I stood aghast, the water started to evaporate. The creek dried up and strewn over the rocks left behind were dead fish, squirrels and birds.
Then came the pounding…
Knock, Knock
.

“There’s a phone call for you, Miss Maggie.” Daisy poked her head into the room.

Rousing myself from the nightmare, I put aside my book, shook my head to clear the terrifying images, and padded out to the kitchen. Daisy handed me the handset.

Tentatively I said, “Hello?”

“Maggie!  How are you, honey?”

“Omigosh! Mom, why haven’t you called me back?  Are you okay?”  All of the anxieties I’d carried with me the past few weeks bubbled to the surface. I was both filled with elation at hearing her voice, especially since I noted she sounded normal — not congested or drugged or anything weird, and irritation that it had taken her so long to get back to me.

In her soothing voice that felt as comforting as a warm hug, she replied, “It’s okay, Maggie. I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve been tied up with a few things but there’s no reason to be afraid. I’ve been in touch with your Great-Aunt Fiona. If there had been any serious issues or real problems, you know I would have talked to you sooner, but she assures me you’re doing very well and you’ve been quite busy yourself.”

“Yeah, Mom, but so much has happened and I’ve been so worried about where you are and how you are and what’s been happening.” 

The fact that she’d been in contact with Fiona but not with me seemed condescending.
Did she really still think of me as a child?

“Well nothing special has been going on here. I’m still working at the store. I miss you and Corey, of course, but tell me...are you having a good time?”

Was she deliberately changing the subject away from herself
?

“Yeah, Mom, this place is amazing. Why didn’t you tell me about any of this before?”

“Fi tells me you had a bad fall and sprained your ankle but you’re completely recovered.”