Chapter 5

5

LECTURE NOTES FROM SPELLCASTING AND CURATION:

A pentagram must be drawn in one continuous stroke and contain the spellcaster’s blood. For best results, apply the mixture directly to the skin above the heart.

T hessa blew out a sharp breath aimed for the stray hair tickling her eye. Her hands were preoccupied under the suds, as they had been for the past few weeks. Professor Shovak would’ve laughed had he known she traded her calloused, soot-coated fingers for pruned, supple things.

Kitchen duty was not what she’d envisioned as her future work placement, but it turned out there was a hierarchy for preferred positions in Mabelton’s work-and-board program. The tradition was that newcomers received housekeeping roles.

The days had been monotonous, and the weeks had passed slowly. Work wasn’t difficult, but it was laborious .

Leora had been assigned laundry duties so they hardly saw each other, despite being roommates. The house matron had taken easily to Leora, and the two witches roomed across the hall—Ivy and Beatrix—were always knocking for her. Thessa wasn’t sure what life in the townhouse would’ve felt like without her; she’d been a beacon of good energy.

After turning off the faucet, Thessa was greeted with a familiar echo of silence. She walked to the closet for the mop and bucket.

The cooks were long gone by now. There’d been too much space and time to think in the kitchens. She preferred when the cooks were shuffling around her and howling at each other. At least their noise helped block out her own.

Every swipe of her mop was a little more aggressive than the last. When the checkered tiles finally shined, she tossed her soiled apron in the bin and left.

Opening her door revealed Leora, Beatrix, and Ivy seated on the floor, surrounded by a large circle of salt. Thessa, wide-eyed, could barely say hello before a bare-chested Leora beckoned her over.

“Tess! Come sit, we were just about to begin.” Leora had created a nickname for almost everyone by now. She was patting the empty floorboard beside her.

Salt was generally used for protection, left on doorsteps and windowsills, but when used to form a circle, it provided more than that. It held and purified the energy within it, for spellcasting.

“What’s this for?” Thessa asked, knowing very well what it was for.

“The Communication Spell, I’ve decided to do it.” Leora glanced at Ivy and Beatrix. According to Leora, the two witches were the queens of the laundry room. “We were talking while folding, and they said they wanted to help. With their magic to support the spell, now I can really speak to my parents.”

Thessa nodded and sat beside Leora.

She knew Leora was practicing her Communication Spell, but without magic, spells were just unique phrases. It was kind of the Celestial witches to offer their services.

In secondary school, studies focused on curating words and blending herbs, not the after part. After is what special training and tertiary schooling were for because magic only manifests when a witch turns eighteen. Without it, both their practices had been limited.

When a witch sought guidance or foresight, they’d seek out a Celestial service. Many Celestials go on to be energy readers, matchmakers, fortune tellers, astrologists, palm readers, and tarot card holders.

The four witches sat with four pillar candles between them: representing north, south, east, and west.

Ivy’s hair was so straight and light, almost white in the candlelight. It was sheared short to frame her face, with violet dye added to her bangs. Her fair skin had a hint of peach to it, and her eyes were as light as Kellan’s.

Where Ivy was like a bright sunrise, Beatrix was like a warm sunset. Her dark bronze complexion complimented her hazel eyes and long auburn hair, which was always in three pigtails— one for each face of their goddess .

Ivy added mugwort and clove to Leora’s mortar, the herbs needed for a Communication Spell, before crushing them into a fine powder.

Flames flickered, reflecting off Leora’s ritual dagger as she braced the hilt and sliced through her palm. She held her bloodied fist over the mortar while Beatrix cleaned her blade.

Once satisfied with her pool of blood, Leora wrapped a cloth around her hand .

Ivy took to mixing and mashing the contents into a paste.

Leora set the last letter she’d received from her parents before her, dipped her finger into the paste, and swiped a five-pointed star on the parchment. Then again across her chest.

Ivy met Leora’s focused stare. “Ready?”

Leora replied with a single nod.

Ivy glanced at Beatrix, and the two Celestials began conjuring their magic. Their fingertips glimmered white as their magic readied to escape—concentrating. Heartbeats later, milky tendrils whirled around them all.

Everyone joined hands.

“We call upon our goddess with the help of our moon and stars, to guide our sister.” Ivy eyed Leora, as if saying it was her turn.

Leora spoke, her voice fierce. “ Goddess be, you must tell me. Are my parents lost at sea? Take my blood and take this spice. Find them for this sacrifice. ”

They all swayed in harmony while Leora repeated her spell.

Thessa couldn’t help but stare at the opalescent magic, it was twinkling alive.

One moment Thessa thought the spell wouldn’t take, and in the next, Leora’s eyelids fluttered closed as her torso flew back. Everyone released their grasp and Beatrix expertly cupped Leora’s head before it smacked the floor.

The Celestial magic receded. “She’s in, it worked.” Ivy confirmed.

“In where?” Thessa wondered, staring at the specks of stardust glittering Leora’s bare skin.

“The In-Between.” Beatrix stated.

“Right, that’s where they say, but what really is it?”

“Hmm.” Beatrix mumbled and gestured to Ivy, “You can explain it better. ”

Ivy cleared her throat before starting, “In school they teach us the In-Between is where souls exist, a medium of sorts, right?”

Thessa nodded.

“Well, it helps to think of it as an invisible layer to our world, one without physicality. A place where aura, spirits, emotions, and vibrations exist. Only souls, spells, and wishes can travel through the tangled mesh of energy.”

“Where’d you learn all this?” Thessa asked.

Beatrix chimed back in. “Training workshops at the House of Hekate. They’re held monthly without cost.”

“But these spells don’t always take,” Thessa added, glancing back at Leora.

Ivy nodded. “Yes, but we’ve combined our powers, it’s Friday the thirteenth, and I suspect this room is supercharged from the turnover of witches in here.”

Beatrix agreed.

Thessa asked, “So she’s here, but also in there , with souls?”

Ivy answered, “Precisely. Some spells work this way, entrap the soul for a bit rather than letting the spell weave through the framework alone. It all very much depends on the mechanism of the spell or wish. Right now, her soul is doing the work. A Communication Spell typically works like this.”

“Will she see her parents there?”

“It depends.”

“Depends on what? Wasn’t that what this was for?”

Leora shrieked awake. Her eyes were big and brighter .

“Leora, are you okay?” Thessa asked, hovering over her.

“I … I’m fine.”

Ivy and Thessa helped Leora up. “Take this, it’s sage water.” Beatrix handed the glass to her.

“Thank you.” Leora gulped it down, panting after it was gone.

Thessa looked directly at Ivy, asking, “Depends on what?”

“ What decided to find her. Provide the spell, then the magic does the rest. Relics, like the letter, help.”

Beatrix added, “The letter held a connection to her parents, so it helps with specificity.”

Thessa turned back to Leora. “Leora, are you sure you’re okay? Who did you see in there?”

Leora set her glass down. “I’m okay, I’m okay. I saw no one actually. You can’t really see in there. Well, I could see everything, but everything this world isn’t. It was like a void, of sorts, but it glistened with light.” Leora glanced at all of them before saying, “Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Beatrix replied.

Thessa was so confused. “So you didn’t speak with anyone?”

Isn’t that the purpose of a Communication Spell?

“We spoke, but there were no words. I felt it.” Leora closed her eyes to breathe in. When she opened them, her tears fell. “My parents, their energy, they were there. It was soft, and so delicate. It was them. I know it . They shared the feeling of peace and certainty, as if this was the path that was set for me, and for them. There was no anger or fear, only rest.” Leora looked downward, more tears falling. “They’re at rest.”

“Leora, I’m so sorry—” Thessa started.

“Don’t be. I felt their touch … their love. It was everything I could’ve asked for. Then, the goddess came to me."

“What?” Ivy cut in. “How do you know it was her?”

Leora wiped her eyes. “I just do. Her energy was pungent. Soothing all the same. She made me feel like my purpose is soon to come. But it was more like a push. A sensation to keep moving along this path. ”

Beatrix smiled as she reached for Ivy’s hand. “I’m glad it helped, let us know if we can do anything else.”

Leora eyed Thessa. “You could try too, if you wanted to.”

After a brief pause Thessa replied, “Not tonight, thank you.”

Ivy said, “Well, you know where to find us. In the meantime, I’m hungry. We could eat in town? You two must be tired of the food here …”

While Thessa was thankful Ivy swayed the conversation, she just wanted to be alone.

Leora responded first, “That’d be so nice.”

As they all stood, Thessa said, “Sounds good but I’m going to rest for a bit, work was tiring.”

“You sure?” Leora asked.

She forced a smile and pushed words out of her mouth. “I’m sure, I smell like garlic anyway. I’ll pick something up from downstairs later.”

Leora scanned Thessa. “Do you need anything before we go?”

“No, no, I’m fine.”

Leora yielded.

Thessa sighed when the door shut, collapsing on the floor to cry.

Her breath hitched as a flurry of thoughts struck her. She was in a new place, surrounded by new witches, with relatively no time to herself, and too much time to think.

Using magic to communicate with the dead was something she’d thought about doing many times; daily. But she never had magic, funding, or friends to help her do it. She’d practiced the spell, her Communication Spell, over and over, except the thought of what would happen when she’d actually do it was nothing shy of terrifying. Her heart was pounding inside her chest—its cage. If she couldn’t find the strength to fight this mental siege, it would win.

Thessa unscrewed the pendant around her neck and breathed. While her body trembled, she traced her fingers along the remnants of stardust on the floorboard. It felt like powdery sea sand. She crumpled some of the shimmering substance between her magic-less fingertips … then some more.

A part of her wondered if maybe there was still some Celestial magic in the air, if her room was truly supercharged, and just how powerful Friday the thirteenth really was. In her next breath, she’d screwed the vial shut and was up, moving through her things with haste. She fetched her ceremonial dagger, her mortar, the pestle, clove, and mugwort.

Thessa sat inside the circle of salt, candles still aflame, grinding the herbs into a powder. Then she sliced the point of her dagger across her palm and hissed. With an angled fist, her blood dripped, mingling with the herbs. She blended it, not caring about her wounded hand.

Unbuttoning the top of her tunic, she swiped a finger into her bloodied herbs, then painted the five-pointed star on her chest. She had no family relic to add, only blood and her galloping heart.

“ Blood, herbs, heart, and soul. Take my gift, take this toll. Seek my mother, not another. Goddess be, please help me. ”

Nothing.

She repeated the spell, louder this time. “ Blood, herbs, heart, and soul. Take my gift, take this ? — "

The room went black.