Page 66 of Haunted Hearts

The men shook their heads.

“I’m not frightened as long as I’m with you, Blaze,” said Lillith.

“I have to have a promise from each of you that you are not going to say a word about this to anyone once we get back to the manor.”

They all agreed

“Milo, if you say one word about this to anyone, I swear I’ll have a curse put on you,” warned Blaze.

The boy’s eyes opened wide in fright. “I won’t,” he promised.

“Blaze, stop scaring the boy,” scolded Lillith in a low voice behind her hand so Milo wouldn’t hear her. “You don’t really know how to curse people. Do you?”

“Nay,” he said flippantly. “I just wanted to stress how serious this situation was. Sometimes a little fear goes a long way.”

“He’s not going to hurt you, Milo,” Lillith told the pageboy. “No one will. But please, for all or our sakes, you need to keep quiet about this.”

“I understand.” Milo looked down and stared at the ground, no longer even able to look directly at Blaze, probably thinking direct eye contact might curse him.

“Do you think he’ll keep the secret?” asked Blaze softly.

Lillith wasn’t sure Milo would keep this a secret, but they had no choice but to trust that he would. “I’ll talk to him more once we return to the manor.”

“It’s time, Minerva,” said one of the men who was wearing a mask that looked like a deer. It was made of fur and had antlers attached to the top.

“Say the incantation and make the offering,” said a woman dressed like a bird. Her headdress had feathers sticking out in all directions.

“Blaze, it’s up to you this year.” Minerva handed him back his dagger and donned her mask. “Put your mask on.”

“I will not,” said Blaze.

“Blaze, we made it specially for you. I’m going to wear mine,” said Lillith, pulling it out of her bag and tying it around her head.

Blaze let out a whoosh of air from his mouth and dug the mask out of his pocket. “I never could tell you no, Lilly.” He put the mask on.

Lillith saw the goat tied to a tree and ran over and gathered it into her arms. “Please, not the goat, Blaze.” Orvyn and Milo walked over and sat down next to her on the ground.

“I am changing tradition just for you, Lillith.” Blaze took his blade and walked over to a basket of fruit, stabbing an apple with the point of his dagger. Then he took an armful of wheat and a lit torch and brought them over to the flat rock that was next to the bonfire.

Minerva started chanting in a different language.

“I wonder what she’s saying?” asked Milo in a whisper.

“She’s speaking Gaelic,” Orvyn whispered back. “She is thanking the earth for the gifts and praying for a prosperous harvest next year.”

“You know the language?” asked Lillith.

“My wife spoke Gaelic and I learned it too,” he told her.

“I still don’t understand what this is all about,” said Milo.

“Samhain recognizes the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the dark times – or winter,” explained Orvyn. “The witches are in tune with the land and worship everything of the earth. They believe the earth is alive. By doing this ritual, they are giving thanks for all they have and asking for a blessing for a bountiful harvest starting with the growth of new life in the spring.”

“There doesn’t seem anything wrong with that,” said Lillith with a nod of her head.

“There isn’t,” agreed Orvyn, smiling, looking happy to be there.

“But they’re still witches,” said Milo. “Surely, there is something wrong with that.”