Dance Upon the Air (19 page)

“Had stuff to do. And didn't I bring you a present?”

Ripley worked her way enthusiastically through the first bun. “Um. Good,” she managed to slur. “Guess the stuff had to do with the island's best cook, which I cleverly deduced since you've got a bag holding half a dozen buns.”

“Down to four now.” He enjoyed one of his own while he slogged through paperwork at his desk. “John Macey still hasn't paid these parking tickets. He needs a goose.”

“I'll goose him. So, you and Nell got down to the mattress rhumba?”

Zack gave her a single withering look. “You've got such a mushy, romantic heart, Rip. I don't know how you get through life with it weighing you down.”

“Avoiding the question's usually answering the question in the affirmative. Cop 101. How'd it go?”

“Do I ask you about your sex life?”

She waved a finger, signaling a pause in the conversation while she swallowed. “Yes.”

“Only because I'm older and wiser.”

“Yeah, right.” She snagged a second bun, not only because they were incredible but because she knew it would annoy him. “If we let you slide on the older and wiser bull, then we'll agree I'm younger and more cynical. Are you going to do a deeper run on her background?”

“No.” Deliberately he opened a drawer, dropped the bag of buns inside, shut it.

“If you're serious about her, and knowing you, you are, you need a handle on it, Zack. She didn't drop out of the sky onto Three Sisters.”

“She took the ferry,” he said coolly. “What's your problem with her? I thought you liked her.”

“I do. A lot, as it happens.” She eased a hip onto the corner of his desk. “But for reasons that often escape me, I like you a lot, too. You've got a soft spot for the troubled and wounded, Zack, and sometimes, through no fault of their own, the troubled and wounded can bite right through the soft parts.”

“Have you ever known me not to be able to take care of myself?”

“You're in love with her.” When he blinked, stared, she pushed off the desk, paced restlessly around the office area. “What, am I blind and stupid? I've known you all my life, and I know every move, every tone, every expression on that dopey face of yours. You're in love with her, and you don't even know who she is.”

“She's exactly who and what I've wanted my whole life.”

Ripley stopped in the act of kicking the desk, and her eyes went soft and helpless. “Aw, damn it, Zack. Why'd you have to go and say something like that?”

“Because it's true. It's the way it is for us Todds, isn't it? We go along, go alone, then
pow
, it hits and it's all over. I've been hit, and I like it.”

“Okay, let's just back up a little.” Determined to stand up for him whether he wanted it or not, she slapped her palms on the desk, leaned over. “She's
got trouble. She's managed to break free of it, at least temporarily, but it's there. He may come after her, Zack. If I hadn't been worried about you, I'd never have asked Mia about it. Rather saw my tongue in half with a rusty kitchen knife. But I did ask her, and she's not clear on it.”

“Honey, what you said before about knowing me, that's true. Now what do you think my reaction is to what you just said?”

She hissed out a breath. “If he comes after her, he'll have to get through you.”

“Close enough. Shouldn't you be out on patrol, or would you rather take the paperwork portion of our day?”

“I'd rather eat lice.” She put on her cap, yanked the tail of her hair through the back. “Look, I'm glad you found someone who suits you. I'm even more glad I like her. But there's more to Nell Channing than a nice woman with a murky past who can bake like a team of angels.”

“You mean she's a witch,” he said easily. “Yeah, I figured that out. I've got no particular problem with it.” So saying, he went back to the keyboard, chuckling to himself when Ripley slammed the door behind her.

“The goddess doesn't
require sacrifice,” Mia said. “She's a mother. Like a mother, she requires respect, love, discipline, and wants happiness for her children.”

The evening was cool. Mia could already scent the
end of summer. Soon her woods would change from green and lush to wild color. She'd already seen the woolly caterpillars, watched the busy squirrel hoarding nuts. Signals, she thought, of a long, cold winter.

But for now, her roses bloomed, and the most tender of her herbs trailed fragrantly among her garden stones.

“Magic springs from the elements, and from the heart. But its rituals are best served with tools, even visual aids, if you will. Any craft depends on certain routines and implements.”

She walked through her garden to her kitchen door, opened it for Nell. “I have some for you.”

The room was as fragrant as the garden. Hanks of herbs dried on hooks. Pots of flowers that Mia had chosen for indoor company stood on the long line of smooth counter. What could only be described as a cauldron sat on the stove, simmering away with the strong sweetness of heliotrope.

“What are you cooking?”

“Oh, just a little charm for someone who has a job interview later in the week. She's nervous.” Mia passed a hand through the steam. “Heliotrope for success, sunflower for career, a bit of hazel to assist in communication—and this and that. I'll empower some suitable crystals for her that she can carry in a pouch in her purse.”

“Will she get the job?”

“That's up to her. The Craft doesn't promise us everything we desire, nor is it a crutch for weak spines to lean on. Now, your tools,” she continued, gesturing to the table.

She'd selected them carefully, with an image of Nell in her mind.

“You should, once you're home, cleanse them. No one should touch them without your permission. They require your energy. The wand is made from a birch branch pruned from a living tree on the winter solstice. The crystal on its tip is clear quartz. It was a gift to me from the one who trained me.”

It was lovely, slim and smooth, and felt almost silky when Nell trailed a finger over it. “You can't give me something that was a gift.”

“It was meant to be passed on. You'll want to have others, too; copper is good. This is your broom,” she continued, lifting a brow as Nell stifled a laugh.

“Sorry, I just never thought . . . a broom?”

“You won't be riding on it. Hang it at the door of your home for protection, use it to sweep out negative energy. A cup—again, one day you'll want to select your own, but for now this will serve. I bought it at Island Market, glassware section. Sometimes the simple works best. The pentacle is from a maple bur. It must always stand upright. The athame isn't used for physical cutting, but for directing energy.”

She didn't touch it, but told Nell to do so.

“Some prefer swords, but I don't think you will,” she added as Nell explored the carved handle with a fingertip. “The blade's dull, and meant to be. The bolline, on the other hand, is meant to cut in the physical. The handle's curved, which will give you a good grip for harvesting your herbs and plants, carving wands, inscribing candles, and so on. There are those, kitchen witches, who use it to cut food. The choice is yours, of course.”

“Of course,” Nell agreed.

“I assume you can handle the purchase and selection of your own cauldron. Cast iron's best. You can find an incense burner that appeals to you at one of the gift shops, and the incense as well—cones and sticks are more accessible locally. When you've time you can make your own incense powder. You'll need some straw baskets, some swatches of silk. Do you want to write this down?”

Nell blew out a breath. “Maybe I'd better.”

“Candles,” Mia continued after handing Nell a pad and pencil. “I'll explain the purpose of colors and symbols. I have some crystals for you, but you'll want more, of your own selection. A couple dozen canning jars, with lids, a mortar and pestle, sea salt. I have a Tarot deck you can borrow, and some wooden boxes, though I'll want them back as well. This will get you started.”

“It's more involved than I thought. Before—the day in the garden—all I did was stand there.”

“There are things you'll be able to do with your mind and heart, and others that require things—as an extension of power, and as a respect for tradition. Now that you have a computer, you'll want to keep a record of spells.”

“A record of spells, on my computer?”

“Why not be practical and efficient? Nell, have you spoken to Zack about any of this?”

“No.”

“Are you worried about his reaction?”

She touched the wand again, and wondered. “That's part of it, but before we even get there, I
don't know how I'd begin to tell him. I haven't resolved it completely for myself.”

“Fair enough. What you share or don't is your choice, just as what you give or what you take.”

“With Ripley feeling the way she does, I thought he might feel the same. I guess I don't want to hit any hitches so soon.”

“Who could blame you? Let's take a walk.”

“I really should be getting back. It's nearly dark.”

“He'll wait.” Mia opened a carved box, took out her wand. The tip was a round of quartz as smoky as her eyes. “Take yours. It's time you learned how to cast a circle. We'll keep it simple,” she promised, nudging Nell through the door. “And after what I have in mind, I can almost guarantee the sex will be sensational.”

“It's not all sex,” Nell began. “But that's a definite plus.”

As they walked toward the woods, a light mist swirled to hug the ground. Long shadows spilled out of the trees, black lines over pale gray.

“The weather's changing,” Mia said. “The last weeks of summer always make me melancholy. It's odd, because I love the autumn, the smells and the colors of it, that slice in the air when you step out first thing in the morning.”

You're lonely. Nell nearly said it before she checked her tongue. How could such a statement help but sound smug and self-satisfied coming from a woman who'd just taken a lover?

“Maybe a holdover from childhood,” she suggested. “End of summer means back to school.” She followed Mia down a well-beaten path, through mist
and shadow. “I always hated those first couple of weeks of school, not so much if my father had a second year on the same base, but at those times when I was the new kid and everyone else was already picked off in groups.”

“How did you handle it?”

“I learned how to talk to people, to make friends even though they were transient. Lived in my own head a lot. I guess some of that made me a perfect target for Evan. He promised to love, honor, and cherish, forever. I really wanted forever with someone.”

“And now?”

“Now I just want to carve out my own space, and stick.”

“Something else we have in common. This is one of my spaces.”

They stepped into a clearing where the mist was white from the quiet light of the rising moon. The full ball of it shimmered between the trees, teased the dark summer leaves, spilled through at the edges of a stand of three stones. From the branches that ringed the clearing hung hanks of herbs. The glitter of strung crystals rang gently together in the light wind.

And the sound of the wind, the stones, the nearby sea, was music.

There was a primitive,
essential
feel to the place.

“It's beautiful here,” Nell began, “and . . . I want to say eerie, but not in a frightening way. You almost expect to see ghosts, or headless horsemen. And if you did, it would seem absolutely natural, not frightening at all.”

She turned, her steps shredding the mist like gray
silk, and caught the scents of verbena, rosemary, and sage carried on the breeze from the tree branches.

Caught something else as well—a quiet hum that was almost like music.

“This is where you were the night of the solstice, before you came out to stand on the cliffs.”

“This ground is hallowed,” Mia told her. “It's said the sisters stood here, three hundred years and more past, and worked their spell to create their haven. Whether they did or not, I've always been drawn here. We'll cast the circle together. It's a basic ritual.”

Mia drew her ritual knife from her pocket and began. Fascinated, Nell repeated the words, the gestures, and found herself unsurprised when a thin ring of light glowed through the smoke of the mist.

“We call on Air, on Earth, on Water and Fire to guard our circle and grant our desire. Here protect and witness this rite. Open our minds to the magic of night.”

Mia laid down her knife, her wand, nodded to Nell after her chant was repeated. “You can cast your own circle in your own way, with your own words when you're ready. I hope you don't mind, but I prefer working skyclad when weather permits.”