“Run, Terra, run,” Elizabeth’s voice echoed in my head. I stood still for a moment, watching her, hesitant. “Run, Terra,” she repeated more urgently. I raced across the field. I felt someone watching me from behind the trees. I couldn’t make anything out through the dark. The darkness hid the shadow that followed me. I stopped for a moment, stranded between vision and memory. It was there the night Elizabeth gave birth. All I could make out was the black cape and the sheen of silver. I realized that the black magic was watching my memories, it was part of my memory.
I shuddered as Pixel moaned. It brought me back to his vision. The dark figure held a blade pointing up at me. My blood went cold. My breath left me. My heart stopped. The black magic was reaching out to me, pulling me back into the shadows. I couldn’t look any longer.
“Terra, eat now. Me hungry.”
“What? What’d you say, Pixel?” I shook my head, falling to the ground.
Pixel jumped on top of me, biting my neck. “No play now, we eat. Pixel hungry.”
“Yes, Pixel. Let’s go get breakfast.” I shook off my vision and followed Pixel as he scampered along to the stream.
On the way he singsonged, “Hungry, hungry, Pixel, hungry,” on his way.
When we had finished, we headed back to the cabin, Pixel carrying a large trout for Abigail. She sat on the porch, cradling a cup of tea. Tracker ran around the front yard, chasing bees. “What do we do now, Terra?” she asked.
“First, we eat and then we talk about the Wiccans,” I told her as Pixel dropped the fish at her feet.
“Why didn’t you have me drink the tea? You keep saying I’m special. That there’s some reason you and I are together. Maybe I’m a Wiccan, too.”
“You’re not a Wiccan, Abigail.” I followed Pixel into the cabin before she could ask any more questions.
After we ate, Abigail counted her change. “I need to get my mother’s watch back,” she said, putting the money into her pocket.
“We’ll head into town to get your watch. First I want to stop at Mrs. Twiggs,” I said. The four of us took the well-worn path back to Biltmore Village. Pixel chased bumblebees along the way. Tracker obliging to help with the hunt, shook his head furiously when he got stung.
We arrived at the Leaf & Page as Mrs. Twiggs was clearing the breakfast dishes from the café tables. Mrs. Tangledwood sat by the fire, reading a book. She looked even younger than when we had seen her the night before. I jumped onto the arm of the wingback chair to see what she was reading. I cricked my head around to the front of the book. In faded gold letter, it read, “Spellbound.” It was a very old book. I could smell the years of water damage, the acid from the yellow paper but what really caught my nose was the smell of old blood. The book had been used in a ceremony. “Oh, hello, Terra, dear.” Mrs. Tangledwood pulled her nose out of the book. “Just doing some light reading. You know, Terra, I’ve been collecting books on magic and the occult for years. I thought them interesting fantasy but these are instruction manuals.” She closed the book. “I’m fascinated by the legends of the Biltmore Society and Olmsted’s studies on the paranormal. Now I know that magic is real.”
“I thought that was the purpose of the ladies of the Biltmore Society to preserve the magic of the forest,” I said.
Mrs. Tangledwood put the book down and let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, no, Terra, the purpose of the ladies of the Biltmore Society is to drink tea and the occasional moonshine. Gossip about our neighbors and keep ourselves as the exclusive society of the daughters of the founding families.”
“Mrs. Twiggs takes it very seriously,” I said.
“Beatrice is a wonderful woman but she’s not really one of us. She wasn’t born here.”
“I’d be careful with that book until you understand your powers,” I told her.
Mrs. Tangledwood smiled and lifted her right hand, pinky in the air as though she was holding a very delicate teacup. From the kitchen, one of Mrs. Twiggs’ precious Rosenthal teacups flew to her on command. I watched as the cup filled itself with a breakfast tea but the smell was sickly sweet. Too much sugar, I thought. Mrs. Tangledwood took a sip, not noticing the odor.
I climbed up the back of her chair and put my head close to her ear. “Be very careful with this book.”
She sipped her tea and continued reading.
Mrs. Twiggs burst into the room, ran up to Abigail and gave her a big hug. “Abigail, that was quite a night,” she said. “I’ve dreamed of this all of my life. All my years of searching for magic, and it was right in front of me.”
Abigail smiled.
“I’m here to help you and Terra anyway I can. Let me show you something,” Mrs. Twiggs said. She walked over to the corner where a tattered banker’s box sat opened. “I’ve brought up a box from the basement full of some very old books on spells and potions that I’ve collected over the years. They’re in pretty bad shape. Mrs. Tangledwood is reading one now.”
We both glanced at the beautiful dark-haired woman, the pages of the book flipping themselves as she read. I jumped onto the coffee table next to the box. They smelled the same as the one in Mrs. Tangledwood’s hands. Mrs. Twiggs had no idea what force she could unleash from these pages. The Wiccans weren’t ready to contain this power. Mrs. Twiggs pulled out each book carefully. Abigail examined the tattered leather bindings shredding from their spine like an exhumed skeleton.
“Abigail, tell Mrs. Twiggs to box up all these books and put them away for safekeeping. The ladies aren’t ready for them as of yet,” I told her.
Abigail did as I directed and so did Mrs. Twiggs. She retrieved the book from Mrs. Tangledwood and placed it carefully on top of the others. Mrs. Twiggs closed and sealed the box. While Abigail carried it back downstairs, Mrs. Twiggs settled into the chair by the fire. I climbed onto her lap. She stroked my fur softly. I realized I was unconditionally purring at her touch. I felt more and more like a cat than a witch as of late. Pixel sat in Mrs. Tangledwood’s lap, purring and biting her blouse. “Terra tells me we should have caution with these books, Beatrice. Do you want me to hold onto them until the others’ powers are stronger?”
“No, Emma, Terra thought it would be best if we put them away for now.”
With that, Mrs. Twiggs looked over at her old friend, well not so old anymore. I could see the sadness in her eyes. She had spent her life chasing magic only to have it land at her doorstep but the door was locked to her. I purred even louder and rubbed my head against her. She smiled, melting the sadness away. Abigail pulled up a wicker chair and joined us by the fire. “So what’s next?”
“I will evaluate each one of the Wiccans to assess their strengths. I will show Mrs. Tangledwood and Mrs. Twiggs potions that will help in their training. And then we begin our circle.”
“What’s that?”
“A closed coven of nine. It’s the most powerful force against black magic. By combining all our strengths, we will shield Asheville from whatever darkness is gathering.”
“But there’s only eight of us?” Mrs. Tangledwood asked.
“Let me worry about that,” I told her.
“I have to go to the pawn shop.” Abigail stood up. I looked around the room. Pixel was sound asleep, his tail dangling temptingly in front of Tracker’s nose. Tracker stood.