The Witches of BlackBrook (7 page)

“I have no doubt, Jason. It’s her,” Caris confirmed.

“I thought so too, Caris, at first. But if it is, then why hasn’t she recognized us? I always thought once we found one another the veil would fall and our souls would sing in recognition.”

“You know why! We’ve been fighting for this for centuries. Always searching, always being thwarted. But this time...we’re close. How else do you explain the increased attacks?”

“I don’t know, Caris. But just because Trin is powerful, it doesn’t mean she’s the one. A spark here and there doesn’t compare to soul singing,” Jason stated flatly.

“I suppose you’re right, but there’s something definitely going on with her. She has power unlike any other I’ve seen. Her vision was made real, playing out right before my eyes. She shrugged it off when I asked about it, but I’m telling you, she’s special.”

“I agree she’s special, Caris, but I’m not convinced she’s the one we’ve been looking for.”

Caris dropped onto the couch, “I’m tired, Jason. It’s been centuries since I lost my magic. At what point do we give up?”

Jason moved to take her hand. “I’m tired too, but I’ll never give up. Let’s get some rest and I’ll do another seeking spell once the moon rises. You take Trin to Ipswich as planned and we’ll continue to live our lives as we always have. Our time will come.”

“Thanks again for inviting me, Caris. I’m so excited for this trip.” Trin beamed.

“Of course. I usually try to get back home at least a couple times a year to restock. I mean, I know there are closer stores where I could find what I need, but there’s something special about going home to the place where you first discovered your magic,” Caris smiled.

You have no idea
, Trin thought. She hadn’t yet returned to Ipswich in any of her previous lifetimes, mainly because of the worry of how it would affect her. But today, she felt ready.

“Do you still have family in the area?” Trin asked.

“No, not anymore,” Caris’s sad smile answered any further questions Trin had. She’d lost family too, and that’s probably why they relocated to BlackBrook––to escape the pain.

They spent the next five hours chatting about anything and everything as the chilled landscape of Vermont and New Hampshire passed them by.

“Getting close now,” Caris announced as they turned on to MA-133.

Trin squirmed in her seat as they made their way to the heart of the small town. The landscape, though covered in snow, still held a familiar air. The brick buildings maintained an old-world feel, as did the John Whipple house that now sat at 53 S. Main Street.

Trin chuckled. This First Period house she visited as a child had been moved and was now a museum. It had obviously been expanded sometime after her hasty and necessary departure in 1693, since the original structure consisted of only a half-house timber frame with a chimney on the right side. Now, the beautiful three-story wood frame home stood proudly with two gables and casement windows containing hand-blown glass. Trin’s excitement was almost palpable as information continued to free-flow into her mind.

A few turns later, they reached a small brick storefront located at the very end of what would be considered the shopping district, if Ipswich had such a thing.

“Here we are.” Caris turned off the car and grabbed her purse. “Thought we’d get to the good stuff first, then we can go have a late lunch at the Clam Box if you’d like.”

Trin smiled and opened her door. “That sounds fantastic.”

Following Caris inside, Trin felt transported the moment she crossed the threshold. Herbs hung overhead and the roughly plastered walls were lined with shelving units, dressers, and tables. The one to her immediate left held dark brown vials of oil, each within its own small cubby. There were consecrated candles atop silver platters, along with wands and athames lying atop a beautifully carved antique dresser to her right. Statues of multiple gods and goddesses were sprinkled throughout, some Greek, some Egyptian, and even Hindu, but the energy here was no doubt pagan. A
true
witch, like herself, owned this shop.

“Trin, I’d like you to meet, Lillian. She’s the owner of this lovely shop and a dear friend,” Caris announced.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Lillian. Your store is wonderful.” Trin shook Lillian’s hand, sensing her magic the moment they touched.

Lillian’s eyes sparked and she replied, “It’s nice to meet you too, Trin. Feel free to gather what you need, and enjoy your time in Ipswich.”

“Thank you.” Trin smiled at Lillian and Caris, then continued her exploration of the shop. It was much larger than it appeared from the street.

As Trin combed her way over each and every surface, she began to see a pattern. Some things mundane and commercial, such as a vial full of purple glitter claiming to be fairy dust, sat alongside others of true power like the jeweled pendant humming beneath her hand. It was a smart thing to do, for only a true witch would know the difference. Perhaps a dedicated Wiccan, such as Caris and Jason would feel a pull towards the objects of old, and even a tourist could pick something up by mistake not knowing what they had, but everything here would do no harm, regardless of who purchased it.

Trin chuckled internally as she reached the back of the store and noticed the locked cabinet draped behind a thick curtain.
This
was where Lillian kept the off-limit items. Trin pulled back the edge of the curtain and examined the contents. The bone fragments and human hair were of no concern to her, but the charred piece of a demon’s tooth rang with warning. The room started to spin, then Trin felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Steady there,” Lillian remarked. “You best come away from the case or you’ll have that demon’s tooth lodged in your neck, looking for another meal.”

“Another meal?” Trin ran a hand down the side of her throat.

Lillian guided Trin to a cozy sitting area near the office. “With the level of power you possess, I’m surprised you don’t know.”

“Know what?” Trin demanded.

“Our history.” Lillian stated flatly.

Trin rubbed a hand down her arm to dampen the nervous energy buzzing under her skin.

“Long ago, a race of demons whose only means of survival depended upon the consumption of a witch’s magic, decimated our line. Hunted as nothing more than a meal for the demons, all witches fled into a deep hiding. Protection spells were set in place by the remaining elders and the use of magic was practically forbidden.”

Trin sat wide-eyed and slack-jawed, listening to the story of her people.

“The elders feared any magical energy would call the demons to them, so they kept themselves hidden from the world, forced only to watch as it changed.”

“Changed how?”

“Without a ready food source, the demons began to die out. Forced to find other means of survival, they began to not only feed upon a witch’s power, but learned to use it to cast their own spells––locator spells, mainly, that would lead them to their next victim.”

“Demons casting witches spells?” Trin shook her head, appalled.

“Yes. But once the new world began to fill with men, Christianity gained a foothold and gave the demons another option. In a last desperate attempt, a powerful demon cast a spell to shapeshift into a human man that would change our history forever.”

“What man?”

“Henrich Kramer.”

Trin gasped. “The author of the Malleus Maleficarum was a demon?”

“Yes. What better way to root out any remaining magic than to incite a public witch hunt?”

“Heinrich Kramer, the
man,
was known to have died in 1505, but the demon behind the face was forced into hiding when most of the witches on trial weren’t real witches at all. He and the remaining demons took the few true witches of the time and learned to siphon their magic in smaller amounts, barely surviving until one witch cast a spell so powerful, they all came running.”

“Who?”

“You,
Karina
. Your spell is what pulled us all through time.”

Trin jumped from the chaise, fear coursing through her veins as she caught Caris’s eye from across the room.

“What’s wrong, Trin? Are you okay?” Caris called.

“I think I gave her a start with the tarot reading I did,” Lillian interjected, pointing to the cards that suddenly appeared on the table between them.

“Uh oh, did you just find out you’re gonna marry my cousin? I’d freaked out too if I was you,” Caris joked.

Trin looked back and forth between the women, trying to gauge what had just happened. Could Lillian truly be a witch from her time? And if what she said was true, that meant it was her fault that witchcraft in the old world had died out. Her spell had scattered her line and their natural-born powers to the wind, forcing them to soul travel aimlessly throughout time, exactly like her and her lost sisters.

Trin wiped the tears from her eyes, and forced a smile onto her face. “No, no. It wasn’t anything like that. I just recovered a little piece of my history that hit me hard, that’s all.”

“Learning the darkness of one’s past only helps to bring light to their future.” Lillian smiled kindly.

Trin nodded and glanced again at Caris. She wouldn’t be sharing this information with her––it wasn’t for a novice. They had no need to know of such things as true witches and magic eating demons. “Thanks again, for bringing me here, Caris. I’m so very grateful.” Trin smiled, pretending not to be shaken to her core by all that had transpired.

“You’re welcome,” Caris said. “Now let’s get our stuff and go get something to eat. I’m starting to get light headed.”

“Let me know if there is anything you need that you don’t see,” Lillian offered.

“I’ve found more than I expected and can’t thank you enough.” Trin turned away and began to gather the items on her list, adding a few power objects that seemed to be calling to her in the moment. The pendant from before, a jar of high-quality healing salve, and a ceremonial blade.

The girls met at the checkout counter, placing their items in front of Lillian to be packaged.

“Here are the keys, go ahead and load up and I’ll be right out,” Caris said, tossing the jumble of silver towards Trin.

“Okay. Thanks again, Lillian. It was such a pleasure to meet you.” Trin took her bags and walked to the door.

“You’re very welcome, and I look forward to seeing you again.”

Trin smiled and set off with a wave.

Caris snapped her head towards Lillian. “Did you tell her?”

“Yes. I told her everything.”

“What did she say?”

“What do you mean? You saw how shocked she was. She had no idea,” Lillian snapped.

“This isn’t good. It’s like she can sense some things but not others. I’m going to need the tooth, Lillian.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Caris.”

“I don’t have any other choice. I have to see if I’m right and figure out what’s blocking her. Jason and I are running out of time.”

Lillian walked towards the cabinet in the back, slowly pulling out a small golden key from her pocket. She unlocked the glass door and reached for a black box on the top shelf. After filling it with crushed rue, Lillian picked up the demon’s tooth with a black satin cloth and placed it inside the box.

“Here. Keep it in the box until you’re ready to do the spell. It will need to be done on the next new moon, NOT the full moon. Understand?” Lillian demanded as she handed Caris the box.

“Yes, I understand. Thanks for your help. We’ll be through this soon.”

“I hope so, child.”

Caris took her shopping bag and quickly headed to the car. “Thanks for warming it up, I had to place a special order for a statue Jason’s been wanting.”

“No problem. You ready to eat?” Trin asked.

“Absolutely.” Caris drove straight to the Clam Box, hoping she could get Trin to confide in her over their meal.

“I haven’t had a good bowl of ‘chowda’ in years,” Trin laughed as they were directed to their seats.

“Well, you won’t be disappointed. I love this place.”

“Ipswich is fantastic. Do you miss it?” Trin asked, silently answering her own question.
Desperately.

“I do, but what we have in BlackBrook is wonderful as well. I’m thrilled to have found a place where the history doesn’t impede the future.” Caris scoffed. “If that even makes sense.”

“It does. I can see how being a witch here must be hard. Lillian has done a good job at commercializing her store to make it attractive to tourists, but in reality, the need to hide still falls heavy over this land.” Trin’s eyes started to glaze over.

IPSWICH, MASSACHUSETTS

1693

“It’s your turn, I delivered the last batch,” Kenna moaned.

“Be still, Kenna, I’ll do it. You don’t have to whine like the dog,” Kara snapped.

The girls finished placing the last of the glass jars full of herbal creams and healing salves into the waiting baskets. Mrs. Bishop was expecting her delivery tonight, and the girls never passed up an opportunity to use their gifts to help those in need, and it didn’t hurt that they’d make a few shillings in the process. Kara took hold of the designated set and started out the door.

“Just a moment, let me put on the finishing touches,” Karina’s soft voice drifted out the door.

Stepping into the evening breeze, Karina placed her hands above the wicker basket and muttered softly. “Blessings within, blessings without, created with love by servants devout. Bringing light to ease one’s plight, that is the goal of our gift tonight.”

A golden glow illuminated the jars as the wind picked up, blowing the girls’ auburn hair towards the night sky. Kenna laughed and Kara smiled at her big sister. “That was lovely, Karina.”

“Thank you. Now be on your way. We don’t want to keep Sarah waiting.”

Kara set off, while Kenna helped Karina replace the stocks of lavender, orris root, and camellia back upon the shelves of their small workspace in the back room. Tidying and arranging the herbs and oils for next week’s batch of tinctures and charms always brought a sense of peace to Karina, one that seemed to settle over the entire house.

Inhaling deeply, Karina smiled at her sister as she moved to take the boiling kettle of cinnamon, cloves, and oranges off the fire, to prepare for this evening’s meal. Kara chopped carrots, potatoes, and cabbage for the pottage, while Karina saw to the bread.

As she placed the boiling pot above the fire, a knock on the door set their hound alight, startling them both.

Kenna grabbed the mutt and hid in the backroom, while Karina wiped her hands on her apron and crossed to the door. As she reached for the handle, a loud crack of a boot blasted the wood from its hinges.

“Witch! We’ve seen your magic with our own eyes. You are now officially accused and claimed in the name of God for your assault on all that is natural in this world,” bellowed the loud voice of Thomas Danforth. Four men rushed inside, grabbing Karina by the arms and legs, while two others looked for anyone else in the house. Karina shook her head at Kenna, who remained hidden from view as a result of her quick spell. “Hold her down,” instructed Danforth.

Karina screamed and convulsed under their hands, stilling only when they ripped her dress open, exposing her back. They were looking for the ‘devil’s mark’ no doubt, and she knew they would most likely deem her birthmark the tell-tale sign of guilt. But, regardless of where they pulled their
truth
from, they were in fact accurate in their judgment. Karina was a witch, and deep within her bones she knew the whole town would know it before this night was over.

“Trin? Are you ready to order?” Caris asked from across the table.

“I’m so sorry, yes, please.” Trin took the menu and quickly placed her order for a small bowl of clam chowder and a mini meal of the Clam Box’s famous fried native clams. “I think the long drive is finally catching up to me,” Trin confessed as she smiled at Caris.

Caris made her selections with the waitress, handing back their menus and offered Trin an understanding smile. “I was thinking the same thing. Do you want to get a room instead of driving back tonight, or do you have appointments tomorrow you need to return for?”

“No. I cleared my schedule until Wednesday, so I’m free, but what about you. Doesn’t school resume tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I keep a sub-folder in my desk in case of emergencies. If I call in before four, they’ll be able to assign a substitute with no problem.”

Trin pondered the thought. Would it be wise to remain here after what Lillian had told her? If she was practical, she’d race home to coordinate with Kit to substantiate Lillian’s story. But, Kit was still out of town and if Trin was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to hear how ridiculous Kit thought Lillian’s claim was or have to deal with her jealousy about the time she spent with Caris.

“Actually, I’d love to stay another night,” Trin announced.

“Great! If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll go make the call.”

Trin watched Caris walk out the front door of the restaurant, then picked up her own phone.

Trin:
How’s the show going?

Kit:
Good. How are things there?

Trin:
Fine. Really need to talk when you get back, though.

Kit:
I’m all yours come Friday. :) <3

Caris returned to the table as Trin returned her phone to her purse. “All set.” Caris smiled.

“Do you have a specific place you prefer to stay when you’re here, or do we need to hunt down the nearest Motel 8?” Trin laughed.

“I thought we’d stay at The Inn at Castle Hill.”

Trin fell back against her chair, lost again in another memory. Daniel Epps had owned Castle Hill during Karina’s youth and had allowed many a pagan celebrations to take place upon his grand lawn in front of the lavish country estate, the last being Beltane, where she and Jeremiah danced around the maypole.

Trin blinked to find Caris staring at her with genuine curiosity written all over her face.

“That would be lovely,” Trin agreed, giddy as a schoolgirl.

“Excellent. I’m glad you’re excited. The Inn is one of my favorite places on earth.”

Mine too
, thought Trin.
Mine too
.