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Eight
I wasn’t one to discount an omen, but I couldn’t find anything in the smoke that should have triggered Jenks the way it did.
I cleaned up the kitchen, frustrated I’d ruined our breakfast and even more perturbed I was back to the push and pull of questioning myself again. Everything I felt for Roarke seemed natural but also not. I needed to get outside and bury my hands in the dirt. A witch had to stay grounded in order to connect with her magic, and maybe I was spending too much time with my head in the clouds.
Pulling on my boots, I grabbed my pruners and trowel from the bench near the door and burst out onto the back porch. Tilting my face to the sun, I relished in the tiniest amount of warmth it offered, fighting its way to warm my chilled bones. Following the stone path to the shed, I loaded the rake and bucket into the wheelbarrow and rolled it to the nearest bed. I needed to dig up the last of the root vegetables and harvest any remaining tomatoes and zucchini on the vines. Then it was time to put the earth to rest. And hopefully bury my fears and doubts alongside the dormant roots as well.
I had cared for this garden almost every day of my nineteen years, its bounty a blessing and a gift from my mother. Again, my connection to this place—to this land and the surrounding forest—was a part of my very being. A part of who I was at my very core. But for the first time, I wondered if that was a problem.
Could my earthbound magic be too much of a pull to provide the balance the Weaver needed? Based in the stars, his magic was influenced by the element of air. But even as a little girl, I never did like the wind.
I shoved my trowel into the dirt, questioning if the Weaver had made a mistake. Was I really powerful enough to be his queen? I swallowed past the lump in my throat, frustrated by my timid heart. Never once had I questioned my power before. Mama always made sure of that.
“Milly, the goddess resides inside us all. All you need to do is open your heart and embrace the power within.”
The ritual of claiming your power marked an important point in any young witch’s life. My mother’s words were all it took for me to embrace my magic that long-ago night. And being raised a solitary witch meant I didn’t need an elaborate celebration or over-the-top ceremony. Just an intimate ritual where I internally accepted who I was and acknowledged all I could become. Marked by a blessing from the goddess, I chose my path and was granted access to my hereditary magic and the constant energy provided by our land.
With my fingers buried in that same soil, I let the cold earth seep through my gloves, nipping at my fingertips as I loosened the bulbs of garlic. With a firm pull, the tubers came free, revealing a clump of at least four cloves. In ancient times, garlic was considered a source of great strength and could be used to treat infections if other medicines weren’t readily available. And working with it now, I felt stronger.
Shaking the dirt loose, I laid the first of the vegetable in my basket and moved down the line. I had to stay strong and stop second-guessing myself at every turn. If the Weaver chose me, I’d already been found worthy.
I looked at my hands and removed my gloves. Pressing my palms against the frigid dirt, I closed my eyes. Stars flickered behind my lids, and I felt my magic rise. Warmth radiated from my fingers, thawing the ground and also my heart. I opened my eyes and gasped. My entire bed was in full bloom again. Garlic, potatoes, cosmos, and peonies, all flowering and ready for a second harvest. But as I pulled my hands away, the energy left me. Forcing the flowers and vegetables back to rest once more.
“Every Weaver has to have a partner to balance out their magic. If not, it creates an imbalance that can be felt in the real world. And I shouldn’t have to tell you that any imbalance in nature is not a good thing.” I stared at the dormant bed, recalling the Weaver’s words. And for some reason, it made me sad.
Jenks bumped my side and meowed, bringing me back to myself.
“Thanks, buddy. You’re right. I need to focus and finish the job.”
Pulling myself together, I worked for the rest of the day, harvesting and mulching the vegetable beds. Now, with my stores full and the sun beginning its descent, I thought about the night ahead. Where would we go next? Again, the possibilities overwhelmed me as I headed to the shower, needing time to think.
Refreshed, I stoked the fire and set my tray of food on the coffee table, sinking down onto the couch. My pasta, salad, bread, and wine smelled and looked delicious. I couldn’t wait to dig in. It was one of the comfort meals Mama always made, and even now, it was working its magic. I suddenly knew exactly where I wanted to go.
I finished my meal, enjoying Jenks’s company next to the crackling fire, then cleaned the kitchen and prepared for bed. It was my goal to see if I could affect more of the dreamscape tonight with my own magic. From changing my clothes to where we visited, I wanted to assess my control.
Slipping beneath the covers, I settled us both in, petting Jenks as he nestled beside me. “Don’t worry, sweet boy. I’ll be fine.” And I knew I would.
Closing my eyes, I focused on where I wanted to go and woke with a smile.
A warm wind brushed my cheeks, and it felt amazing.
“Good evening, Milly. I see you’ve already begun to test things for yourself.”
Roarke’s voice tugged at my heart. I opened my eyes, thrilled to see rolling vineyards and a Tuscan villa standing in the distance, just as I’d planned. It’s square stone façade and manicured courtyard looked exactly like every picture I’d ever seen.
“I’ve always wanted to come here, and it doesn’t disappoint.” I wrapped my arms around my middle, noting the red floral button-up dress I had planned to wear already in place.
“Well, your magic worked perfectly, and you look absolutely beautiful tonight.” Roarke took my hand. “Shall we?”
I dipped my head, not sure what he had in mind but ready to experience it all.
We walked through the vineyard rows in silence, taking in the splendor hand in hand. Plump purple grapes hung thick on the vines, while bright-green leaves blew gently in the wind.
Nearing the villa, I pulled Roarke to a stop. “I want to try something if that’s okay?”
The Weaver smiled. “Be my guest.”
Concentrating, I let my magic rise to the surface and sent my thoughts into the cosmos. Roarke chuckled beside me, and I opened my eyes to a little red corvette. It was exactly the type of car I imagined touring the countryside in. Top down, wind in my hair, exploring the rolling hills of Tuscany.
