LAST WEEK:
Read the previous installment here. See all installments here.
The midnight moon hung low over the sleeping town of Lederville, watching the shadows pass to and fro on the empty streets below. The quietest of the shades were actually two human witches, who snuck by swiftly enough to give ghosts a chill. The night had cooled off and Renna had donned her now-trusty letterman jacket, and Sera was wearing a thick, dark-colored hoodie suitable for sneaking about, as it lacked any pastel paint stains.
Despite the two of them agreeing on the fastest path to the meeting house before they set out, they still managed to get lost by trying to take a quicker way than Main Street, hoping to bypass any late-night wanderers. They felt more unsettled with every twist and turn they took, shying away from the bright squares cast by illuminated windows. There were a surprising number of people awake in this town past midnight on a Monday morning. Renna was quite sure that if any sharp-eyed citizen caught sight of two youths skulking about this late at night, the police would quickly come searching for them. Renna brought them to a stop underneath the thick shadow of a tree.
“I’m really, really hoping we’re going the right way by now.”
“We are. We’re heading north. Main Street is parallel to where we are. Are you worried we’re going to get caught?”
“A little bit, yeah. With the situation being as it is, even a small slip-up could send the entire town into high alert.”
Sera nodded. “In that case. Maybe I can call on some help. It will take a minute. But if the Saints are kind. It should get us there undetected. What do you think?”
“Go for it.”
Sera sat down cross-legged against the trunk of the tree and let her body relax into a natural posture, as if she was falling asleep. Renna stood a few feet away, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She couldn’t help feeling anxious, remembering the two very different times Sera had been in contact with the Saints before this. She was fairly certain, however, that it would not be anyone like Boss Bouc appearing again, as Sera was using her magic with her own will this time.
After a long minute, Sera’s voice came to her. “Beata Dolorosa said she will help us. She’s quick to protect children who need it.”
“Great,” Renna said, stepping forward tentatively. “So how is it gonna work?”
“Your hands.” Sera held out her own, open-palmed, and when Renna put hers against them, she felt the cold wetness of fresh paint.
“Keep it coated on your hands. And put three fingerprints on each cheek.” Sera had already done so with her three center fingers. Renna copied her.
“What now?”
“We’re set to go now. The Saints will keep us safe.”
Renna didn’t feel any different at the moment. She wondered if she was still inadequate at feeling the presence of magic, or if she just wasn’t used to the spells that Sera invoked. But she trusted her friend and set off behind her down the street.
Even if she couldn’t feel the weight of the spell that was protecting her, Renna’s spirit began to lift, just thinking that they had the supernatural aid of a god or goddess. The tension and pulsing blood that had kept her nerves taut and ears blocked was now gone, and she realized how much she enjoyed being outside late at night. It wasn’t often she had gotten the opportunity at Inglenook—there were only a couple memorable times when some of the kids had snuck out on various errands—watching meteor showers, journeys to the twenty-four-hour convenience store, or just to run through the dark woods at night. There was something about the experience that was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time; it was almost like she was transforming while leaping from one shadow to another, as animal instinct overtook the human brain.
Both girls were at a fast jog now, rushing down one sidewalk to the next, cutting through the squares of light that they had been careful to avoid before. But they didn’t care now; they felt free and untouchable. Renna had the urge to close her eyes and just run flat-out, letting the cold air rush around her and project her someplace else far away with every step—but she had to stop short as Sera did so in front of her. She heard the voice now, too.
“Who’s that? Anybody out there?”
The door to a nearby house flew open, and the beam of a flashlight cut its way down the lawn. Renna’s heart was in her throat and her hand had a strong grip on the elbow of Sera’s sleeve. What were they doing, running around like idiots? Of course they were going to get caught! But should they keep running and risk drawing attention, or stay still with the raw hope that the searcher would lose interest fast?
There was no time to even decide, however. With a flash like a saber, the light’s beam sliced across them as they stood frozen out on the sidewalk. Renna squeezed her eyes shut, anticipating the harsh glare returning to her face, but after a few seconds, she opened them again to see the person on the porch checking the bushes at the far side of the lawn. Had they really not seen the two of them?
The searcher grunted and switched the flashlight off, retreating back indoors. Renna shakily released Sera’s sweatshirt and tried to get her heartbeat back down to a sustainable rate.
“Did that … Was that …”
“Saints protect us.” Sera smiled at her through the dark and motioned for them to continue forward.
They did so, but with a resumed air of caution.
***
It took very little time for the two young witches to find their way to the wide, empty green in the center of town, where they had been earlier that day. They crossed as silently as two shadows between the moon and earth and reached the doors of the meeting house, still closed but no longer blockaded by a blasphemy-shouting girl. They yielded to a confident push, and admitted Renna and Sera into the black interior.
Renna retrieved her flashlight and was about to turn it on, but Sera stopped her and reminded her of all the windows in the Hall, which would be a dead giveaway if light were to suddenly start floating around inside them. They strained to listen for sounds of other people, but everything was absolutely silent. Renna wondered if Morning and her coven were also versed in spells that concealed them, similar to Sera’s charm that had gotten them there safely.
Each girl took a wall and began to slowly feel their way along. It was Sera who hit paydirt, pulling open a door with rickety wooden steps that led downward. They only had to descend the first few before their eyes caught the faint light coming from the floor below. The girls reached the landing and peeked around the corner into the basement. From the center of the room, huddled next to an electric lantern with several books spread out around her, Morning stared back at them. It was her and no one else.
“I can’t believe you came. I honestly didn’t think you were actually gonna show.”
Renna took a few cautious steps into the basement, ducking around some low-hanging spiderwebs. The chalky dirt floor and crusty piled-stone walls certainly did little to hide their centuries. “I was going to apologize for being late, but it looks like we’re the first ones here?”
Morning turned her gaze away. “The only ones. Everyone else was supposed to show up a couple hours ago, to begin the ritual. A couple of them messaged me with some excuses, but most just didn’t even tell me anything. No one else is coming.”
Renna realized that this was probably the first time she felt sincere pity for Morning. The girl was lacking in her usual assertiveness that made conversation with her feel like a competitive sport. “I don’t really get it. You were so sure they would all be here, what happened?”
Morning curled herself tighter into a lanky human knot. “Who knows. Maybe they’re all cowards who don’t really care about what we’ve been fighting for. Maybe they’ve just been lying to me all this time, or their minds have been poisoned enough by their crapsack religious families that they’re going to be praising Jesus in church next Sunday to white-wash their souls. I just really don’t know.”
Sera stepped in at this point. “It’s true. You don’t know what happened. But you don’t have to assume in that way. I’m sure some of them wanted to come. If that wasn’t true. They wouldn’t have worked so hard before this. I don’t like to make assumptions. But I don’t think you understand what a controlling family is like. Especially a religious one. Even if you don’t agree with them. Or want to believe what they believe. They’re still your family. And you can’t ignore that. If they came here tonight. They might be sacrificing more than these witch markings are worth.”
Renna was caught off-guard at Sera’s outburst—even if an ‘outburst’ for Sera was talking in a voice that others would consider to be a normal speaking volume. But Renna could see where her friend was coming from. Many of their interactions with Morning left the impression that the girl was living in her own closely-guarded bubble. Considering the environment she grew up in, this wasn’t a surprising development. But at the same time, it was likely what had led to her current situation, sitting down here in a dirty basement for hours waiting for people who wouldn’t come.
To her credit, Morning hadn’t retorted against Sera’s words, instead staying silent for a long moment, trying to digest them (or so Renna hoped). Finally, Morning spoke up again.
“Maybe you’re right. But it doesn’t matter. We’ve lost. I can’t do the ritual on my own, meaning I can’t save any of the witch lore that’s been left down here.”
They turned their attention to the walls, which remained hazy in the dim illumination of the electric lantern; Renna couldn’t see anything on them from where she currently stood. Morning got up and brought them over to the nearest wall and held the light close. Renna and Sera’s eyes widened at what was revealed. There were indeed markings left on the stony surface; there were so many, and they were so tightly interwoven, that from a distance they had been just another indistinct shade on the stone surface. Renna saw many symbols she recognized, and far more words and sigils that she didn’t. It reminded her of those ancient cave paintings in France, made by prehistoric humans, whose messages managed to survive over thousands of years.
The trio walked slowly along the wall, and the writing dipped and swirled and crawled alongside them, like the tempestuous eddies of a swift river. They reached one corner of the basement and saw that the etchings continued around the bend. It was clear that there was little space that the author hadn’t found to mark on.
“And tomorrow,” said Morning in a somber voice, “it’ll be lost.” The thought of this sent a pang of sorrow though Renna. Now that she had seen the wealth of knowledge that was kept down here, the thought of it all being destroyed was like imagining the Book of Abramelin being burned in a fire.
Morning walked slowly back to the center of the room, where the ritual books still sat, open to empty pages. “It’s not fair. My whole life I had to be an outcast in this town just because I didn’t want to be the same as everyone else here. And now the only place where I feel like I belong is going to disappear.”
Morning crouched down and pushed her head into her knees, letting her mop of curly hair fall around her like a curtain being drawn. It was a sorrowful sight; up till now, Renna couldn’t imagine Morning being in a situation that she couldn’t find a way through with her weaselly and unrelentingly positive personality. But now she just sat there, ready to give up and accept the fate that she had spent so much of her time and effort fighting against.
No matter how intense, intrusive, or annoying it had been before, Renna wasn’t ready to see that spirit die yet. One quick glance over at her friend and they were on the same page.
“We’ll help you.”
Morning turned her head to the side so she could speak better, knocking her glasses askew. “With what? We need more than three people to do the ritual.”
“Yeah, forget about the ritual. But Finnie and I will help you save as much as we can. You’ve got your computer here, right? And those blank books? Even if we can’t record it all through magic, we can still do it by hand. We won’t be able to get it all … Probably not even a lot of it … but if the three of us work all night, some will be saved.”
Morning looked up at them both; between her cockeyed glasses and the snot that she hadn’t wiped off yet, she finally looked as crazy as she acted sometimes. “Really? You guys would actually do that?”
Finnie gave a thumbs-up.
“Yeah, witches gotta help each other out,” Renna replied. The three of them might not be a coven, or even really friends yet, but Renna already knew that this new experience was something important. She couldn’t quite yet tell why, but she had time to think about that later, once they were safely at the Rectory. She also had a small feeling that told her despite finally arriving at their destination and being able to double-down on her training, it wouldn’t feel as “real” as right now. Right now, despite being disheartened, severely unprepared and unsure of where to start, crawling around in a dark, dirty basement for the next few hours held real meaning, now and for the future. And at least they had remembered to bring snacks.
***
“See, told you we’d be awake by six thirty.”
“That doesn’t really mean much if you didn’t sleep in the first place.” Job looked at the two girls, who were barely able to stand without swaying in place. They had arrived back at the RV only minutes beforehand, and Job had been waiting. They had spent a couple hours debating how mad they were going to be at the youths, but in the end realized it wouldn’t be worth anything—if they were going to trust them to leave on this errand in the first place, it was only right to keep that trust all the way through. And the girls had come through (if just barely).
Renna and Sera had said their goodbyes and parted ways with Morning as the sun crested the tips of the trees. The night had been a long one, and their vision was more or less shot from squinting at tiny lines with poor artificial light, but they were proud of what they had accomplished. As promised, Morning had handed over Leila’s tools to them, along with a sincere apology to Leila for her unauthorized ‘borrowing.’ She also gave them the website address where she would upload the writings once she scanned in and edited everything, along with her personal email address. Renna wasn’t sure when she would use it, not knowing if the Rectory had any computers available, but it still felt like a point of connection between her and another witch.
Job shrugged and pointed a thumb at the RV. “Welp, gather up your stuff quickly. We’ve got a bus to catch. Be sure to thank Leila for her hospitality as well.”
The girls nodded and started inside, but suddenly a car pulled up on the edge of the property. A woman climbed out, thin and blonde, wearing a modest, bland sweater and skirt that ensured proper ankle coverage. Both girls recognized her as being among the folks who were at the disturbance Morning had caused at the church, as well as the meeting at the Faith Center. It seemed a bit too early in the morning for a mob-fueled extrication, but Job was made aware of the implications from Renna and Sera’s panicked looks. The younger witches stood off to the side while Job moved forward to receive the visitor, who was making her way to the RV in a stiff, nervous shuffle. Remaining a good twenty feet away from Job, she called out,
“Excuse me, but is Miss Fayad present?”
Job looked back into the RV, where Leila was now standing in the doorway. She put on a smile for the sudden arrival. “Well well, if it isn’t Ms. Lewis. What can I do for you at this hour?”
The woman shifted about on her feet, keeping her gaze low. “I’m sorry about calling so early, but I felt it was important. It’s a difficult matter to speak of, but … You see, due to recent events that have occurred within our community, a decision has been reached amongst those concerned, about your … presence here …”
Renna was gearing up her argument about how Leila had been framed, and was a victim rather than a perpetrator, but Job had sensed her enthusiasm. Their look told her to let Leila handle it.
“Ahh yes. Don’t worry, I have been made aware already. And I understand the community’s choice. I will leave willingly and expediently, so I hope there won’t be further cause for aggravation between me and the people in town.”
Ms. Lewis looked relieved. “Ah, yes. I’m glad. That’s good to hear. Thank you.”
Leila began to turn around. “Now if that’s all, I’ve got plenty of packing to do, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Ah … but that’s not all,” replied Ms. Lewis. “I also came here to … apologize for the situation. You’ve existed peacefully with our community for a long time now, and if not for this new problem, I feel that we could have continued in that manner.”
She took a breath and continued, seeing that all were listening to her. “I personally didn’t want to have it come to this. My sister, you see … she’s a bit of a firebrand. Debbie gets people riled up and kicks them into action. She’s become a de facto leader in our community just through her zeal and her dedication to the morals that we all hold dear to us. While I don’t always agree with how she handles things, I know her heart is in the right place—she wants a safe space for our children to grow up with the ideals that we believe in, and to protect our small community from the world that’s changing more quickly than we can keep up with.”
She ended her plea there, and stood with her hands tightly clasped, intently avoiding eye contact with anyone present. She seemed like a person who was not used to speaking her mind often, especially to people she obviously was not comfortable being around while outnumbered.
“I see.” Leila took the turn to speak. “I have to ask, Ms. Lewis. Do you think there’s a chance that the Lederville community would ever begin to accept the presence of magic, if it didn’t interfere with your church’s practice? At least two of us here believe that there is a way to co-exist, and practice accordingly.”
Ms. Lewis’ lips tightened. “I have to honestly say I do not. I can’t and I won’t attempt to accept beliefs that are contrary to the message of salvation. That was the cause for our most recent crisis. I want to acknowledge you as another person who deserves freedom and mercy, but not everyone has the luxury to explore how they will. For many of us, our meaning comes from helping sustain the walls that protect us.”
Leila sighed. “I can’t find fault with that. Very well. Sorry to keep you, Ms. Lewis. Thank you for coming by. And thank you for all your kindness over the years here. I’ll remember it fondly.”
Ms. Lewis gave a curt bob of her head as a response and retreated to her car much faster than she had come from it.
Renna barely remembered the moment she said her goodbyes to Leila; everything was an exhausted blur, and she quickly found herself slouched into the thinly padded seat of a bus that rocked and rumbled its way through the town and out into the narrow crevasse between the pine trees, heading further north. Finnie had beaten her into dreamland, slumped against her shoulder. Renna’s brain was still trying to wrap itself around the last conversation between Leila and Ms. Lewis. Parts of it had made her angry. Parts had made her sad. Just like with the work they did last night, it felt like there was something there that was important to understand. But Renna’s exhaustion would not be delayed any longer, and she had to watch her thoughts melt away into blurs of voice, shape and feeling, as it all washed together and pulled her beneath the surface of the sleepless world.
Hear the author read this week’s installment in the video below:
MetaStellar fiction editor Geordie Morse works primarily as a personal language coach, developing curricula and working with clients remotely. His first book, Renna's Crossing, is out now. His various other projects are cataloged on his site Arnamantle.