The Magick of Dark Root (Daughters of Dark Root) (13 page)

“Maggie! Come quick girl!”

Aunt Dora’s voice jolted me awake. I looked around, surprised to still find myself on the recliner.

“Maggie!”

I sprang from the chair and ran into the kitchen. Aunt Dora stood at the sink, standing on tiptoes as she pointed to a slender woman in a white dress, wandering our yard like a spirit.
 

“Who is she?” I asked, joining my aunt. There was an air of familiarity about her. A memory tugged at my brain as I took in her nest of dark, spiral curls, her pointed chin and nose, and her thin eyebrows that peaked over lash-less blue eyes.
 

My aunt placed her hand over mine. “A ghost.”

The woman raised her eyes, a knowing smile on her ruby lips. She strode towards us, feet hardly seeming to touch the ground, and emerged at the kitchen door.

“How did ya get in?” Aunt Dora demanded, pulling open the kitchen door and talking to the woman through the screen. The woman stood a good foot taller, but my aunt was undaunted. “The spell should have kept ya out.”

“Dora,” the woman licked her lips. “What dark magick keeps you alive?”

“I could ask the same o’ ya. Yer supposed ta be dead.”

I moved protectively in front of my aunt, ready to act if needed.
 

The woman’s pale eyes glimmered. “So this is the promising young witch. Maggie, we finally meet.”

Aunt Dora raised her index fingers into the sign of a cross. “Get out, witch! We want nothing o’ ya here.”

“You are amusing, Dora,” The woman threw her head back and laughed. “Finger crosses? Really? I suppose next you’ll be telling me that you’ve sprinkled sea salt in the doorway to prevent me from coming in.”
 

The woman pulled open the screen door. Aunt Dora took a step back, pulling me with her, as the woman advanced inside.
 

“See,” she purred, her right foot hitting the linoleum. “I think you’re getting a bit rust…Arrrrrrr!”

The woman screamed, retreating backwards.
 

“I’ve still got plenty left in me,” Aunt Dora said, shaking a fist. “An’ don’t ya forget it.”

The woman balled her hands up into fists at her side. “You can’t keep me out forever, Dora, no matter what magic you employ. When you lose this house I intend to make it mine.”

“Who are you?” I demanded. “And what do you want?”

“Who am I?” Her eyes widened with incredulity. “Who am I? Leah said you were a simpleton but I hadn’t thought you this hopeless.”

“Larinda,” I said as the memory came to me. I was six or seven, riding atop a float at the Haunted Dark Root Festival. Larinda appeared in the crowd. She had frightened me then. She didn’t frighten me now.

“Maggie, don’t talk ta her,” my aunt warned. “She’s darkness and lies.”

“Now, now Dora,” the woman puckered her lips thoughtfully. “I know we’ve had our differences, but the veil grows thin. Perhaps it’s time to put our differences aside and ally.”

“I’ll never ally with the likes of ya. I’m getting my broom!” Aunt Dora bounded for the living room, opening and closing closets and drawers.
 

“You don’t really want to buy this house,” I said. Though she was taller than my aunt I stood eye to eye with her. I raised my chin to give me the illusion of extra height. “You’re here for the Circle.”

At the word
circle
one of Larinda’s eyebrows shot up into an even more pronounced arch. She quickly composed herself. “That old thing? I’m betting it’s been lost for years.” Her eyes met mine, searching for affirmation.

I ignored the urge to look at the crystal bracelet I had taken from Mother in her hospital room. At that time, I had thought the Circle to be a metaphor rather than an actual artifact. The bracelet throbbed against my wrist, emitting a soft vibration I desperately hoped Larinda didn’t detect. I blinked but held my face expressionless.

“If you must know,” she said, her lips shiny with spittle. “I’m after a much bigger prize than the Circle or the house.”

“What’s that?”

Aunt Dora burst into the kitchen wielding a straw broom half her height. “By dark o’ night an’ light o’ day, take this stranger far away!” She brandished the broom at the door. “Get, witch!”
 

Larinda backed away, her eyes hateful. “My cousin can’t save you forever, Dora. There’s only so much protection left in the world, and day by day, it’s dying.” Then she turned to me. “Maggie. Find me.”
 

She slipped back into the mists, disappearing into the woods behind her.
 

“Should we go after her?” I asked.

Beads of perspiration dotted my aunt’s forehead and I helped her to a chair. She handed me the broom and I could still feel her energy coursing through it. “No. She’s gone fer now. We swept out the riff-raff, Maggie.”

“You did.” I stared in wonder at my aunt. “What was it that kept her from entering the house?”

Aunt Dora wiped her brow with the back of her fleshy arm. “That was just something I put out ta keep the slugs away.”

I chuckled, trying to return my heart rate to normal. “She told me she wasn’t after this house or the Circle. What do you think she wanted?”

Aunt Dora lifted her round face and lowered her eyes. “It’s best ya stay away from that woman. The devil can’t get in unless ya invite her.”

With that, I knew the conversation was closed.

A large black bird appeared in the yard scratching and pecking at the ground. I shuddered, remembering my encounter with the raven early that morning. It flew away, and I was about to shut the door when I noticed something else in the dirt where the bird had been standing: long marks that, at this distance, resembled words etched in the earth.

I stepped outside, moving towards the spot.

Sure enough, in the dirt someone had carved out the words: 123 Old Raven Rd.

Seven

FULL MOON, EMPTY HEART

The Woods Outside of Dark Root

November, 2013

The moon was nearly full as my sisters and I shivered beneath the carcass of an old, bare tree. The air smelled moldy and rotten, like meat that had been left out on the counter overnight. An owl hooted in the distance and I clenched my teeth, determined not to prove correct Eve’s theory that I was scared of everything.

Ruth Anne aimed her flashlight at the earth, scouring the ground beneath the tree. Merry glanced up from time to time, searching the skies for birds or bats. And Eve complained about the chill and how she would have worn a thicker jacket, had someone warned her that we would be out grave-digging this evening.

“We aren’t grave-digging,” I informed her. “We are searching for mandrake. And I can’t help that Aunt Dora made us find it tonight.”

Ruth Anne discovered a clump of grass and dirt near the north side of the tree and we followed the beam of her light. She kicked at the spot and shook her head. “Negative.”

 
“No offense, Ruth Anne,” Merry said gingerly. “But have you ever actually
seen
mandrake?”

“Only in books.”

“Then allow me.” Without asking, Merry took the flashlight and crouched, checking the ground more deliberately. After several cold minutes she squealed, “I found something!” Then, looking to Ruth Anne she asked, “What do you think?”

It was an innocuous-looking leafy, green plant centered by purple flowers. Ruth Anne pulled out a folded piece of paper from her front jeans pocket and checked it against Merry’s discovery. “Looks like the picture.”

Eve took out her cell phone and began pressing buttons. “I’ll bet there’s an app for that, something that lets you take a picture of a plant and then confirm it against a database.”

“Highly doubtful,” Merry said. “But that would be a good idea. Would make my job so much easier. Maybe you could invent it, Eve.” Merry looked at me over her shoulder. “Maggie, are you ready?”

I nodded, peeling off the leather gloves Aunt Dora had forced upon me. My fingers tingled with blue goo in the moonlight. “I hope this works.”
 

“Don’t worry,” Merry stood, holding the flashlight steady while giving me a comforting smile. “If anyone knows her protection spells, it’s Aunt Dora.”

It was dangerous for a human––especially a witch––to come into contact with mandrake with their bare skin. Before we left the house, Aunt Dora had rubbed some ointment on my hands as she cast her protection spell, instructing me to keep the gloves on until right before I yanked the root from the ground.

“In the old days, witches had dogs do this,” Ruth Anne said as she drew a small circle around the plant with the tip of her still unfinished wand.
“They’d starve them for days, then throw some meat on the plant, letting the dogs fetch it out. If the root didn’t kill the dogs, the owners would afterward.”

“That’s horrible!” Merry said. “I could never…”

“Me either,” I agreed. “No wonder witches were considered evil in the old days.”

Ruth Anne drew a second circle around the first as she continued to educate us. “That wasn’t all witches, of course. But the ones who did shit like that certainly lent credence to the ‘witches as evil’ idea. Nice women, they say, never make the history books.”

The temperature dropped rapidly and Eve and I hopped in place, trying to get warm. Steam rose up from the ground, like ghosts in a graveyard.
 

“I just want to get this done and get out of here,” Eve said.
 

Ruth Anne’s lips turned up at one corner. “But Eve, you need to do the dance.”

“Dance?” Eve blew into her cupped hands. “What dance?”

“The dance of love,” Merry teased, her eyes sparkling. “Put that new wand to use.”

Merry and Eve had been out collecting branches for their wands earlier that day. Merry had found an ash wand to aid in protection and healing, and Eve had settled on a hawthorn wand to assist her in divination, glamour, and love spells. “But I haven't prepared it yet,” Eve objected. “Right now, it’s just a stick.”

“The
love
stick,” I teased, enjoying the chance to torment her a little. “Besides, I don’t think it matters if it’s prepared or not. Magick is all about belief. Do you believe in your wand, Eve?” I tried to keep the smile off my face.

“I believe we need to finish this before I turn into a popsicle,” she answered.
 

Ruth Anne traced the third and final circle around the mandrake plant. “At least Aunt Dora didn’t expect us to find the mandrake underneath a body or a hanging tree. Another tradition that luckily didn’t carry over from the dark days. Like Tupperware parties.”

We all laughed, except for Eve, who continued to complain about her impending dance.
 

Then, when Ruth Anne’s circle had been drawn, a moment of somberness fell on us all. We had heard the horror stories associated with the plant, that while it was used for exorcisms and the prevention of evil, it could also absorb the evil of the energy around it, which was why it was feared, and why it had to be cultivated so carefully.
 

Merry waved her wand above the plant, banishing all negative energies from the root.

“I wish it was me picking this,” Ruth Anne said, taking a deep breath and a step back.