Water Witch (7 page)

“Only a minor one, though. I can’t do much more than this.” I drew the last bit of water out and crossed my legs at the ankles, leaning back on my elbows.

“Perhaps with practice?”

I shook my head. “I do practice. Well, I have since I’ve been home anyway. Still can’t do much more than that.”

His face twisted into a thoughtful expression. “How much water can you move at once?”

“Not more than a few gallons.” I hadn’t really tried to move any more than that. “Why?”

“No reason. It is a good skill, you should hone it.”

Something about his tone sounded off, he was much too serious. But I dismissed my worry. I had more immediate concerns. “I need to ask you some questions. I need… I need your help.”

He turned to me sharply. “Anything.”

His intensity shocked me, and the passion of his response left me speechless. He was studying me now, probably trying to read me, but the look on his face was all fierce protectiveness and worry.
He loves me.
I took a deep breath and shook myself of that insight.
Remember what you need to ask.

“Okay. Well. Here goes… I have some skill, as you know, with divination. But my problem is in interpreting the things I see. I know I haven’t been very studious, and now I’ve had a few visions I just can’t figure out.”

“Interpretation is half of divination. Seeing is easy, understanding is skill.”

“I know. I just—”

“No, you don’t know.
Understanding is the skill of divination
. A skill you have, you were born with it. You must simply trust yourself. Tell me the vision that troubles you, and how you felt while in it, and I will guide you.”

“Uh…” This was not the way I’d hoped this would go. At all. But what did I have to lose really? I told him about my Journeying, and what I’d seen there. “…and the tree was way smaller, thinner but still healthy. The roots, all my life paths, were changed. I mean, a few were still intact, but a lot were gone, just soil where they used to be.”

He raised his brows in an “and?” kind of expression.

“I felt sad. Really sad and scared, like my entire foundation was gone, and I had no support. It was too much change.” I looked away, embarrassed to have admitted those feelings to him.

“But the tree was healthy, and there was soil there to support new growth?”

“Yes.”

“If this was someone else’s vision, what would you think it meant?”

I closed my eyes, tried to be objective. “A life change, a big one. Death in the family, loss of a home or career, a major accident, something like that.” I blew out a breath to calm myself. I didn’t want to go through any of those things. He reached his hand out to clasp mine, and I allowed it, needing the comfort.

The feeling of his hand filled my awareness, the smooth skin, the long fingers, the ridges of his knuckles. I realized I was caressing his skin but couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, wanted more in fact. But he pulled his hand away, and shuddered out a shaky breath.
He feels it, too
.

“I think you are correct. Your life is headed for major change, love. I will assist you as best I can.” His mouth thinned into a firm line, and a whisper of dread crept through me. I wanted just then to hold him, to lose myself in his touch.

I focused on slowing my racing heart and keeping my hands to myself. “How about telling me where my grandfather’s journal is?”

He laughed and clasped his hands in his lap. Was he trying just as hard not to touch me? “I cannot tell you that. As we have already discussed.” He let out a deep sigh. His light eyes flicked to me, sad in the moonlight. “I should go.” He rose, but didn’t seem in any rush to leave.

“Why? What’s wrong?” I stood as well and faced him, realizing we were almost exactly the same height. He had maybe an inch on me.

“What is wrong is I cannot control myself near you. I want only to hold you in my arms, keep you safe from all harm, and whisper the answers to all of your questions into your ear. And though it would please me greatly to do so, it would not serve you.” His shoulders jerked, like he wanted to move but stopped himself. “Practice your divination. Have visions about small things, trust your insight, and work your way up to more complex subjects.” He turned to leave.

Seeing his back, I took a step toward him. “Wait!” He turned at my voice, and we were too close, almost touching.

“Don’t leave.” I whispered. Goddess, I wanted him to do the things he’d mentioned, to hold me and protect me. Or just touch me, and distract me from whatever disaster was looming in my visions. I placed my hands on his biceps, surprised by the firm muscle I found beneath the thin cotton of his tunic.

“My witch.” He pulled me into a hug that was too rough and yet perfect. His strength shocked me. I’d seen him shirtless, and he wasn’t any more muscular than me, but his embrace held the power of a larger man. His whole body felt tight and hard.

Damn, it was nice in his arms. I took a deep breath, my nose buried in his neck. He smelled of rainwater and moss, with a tiny wisp of woodsmoke. Where did he live? Why had I never asked him? All my questions were always so self-centered. I forced my head up. “Where do you live?”

He pulled himself away from me, with obvious effort, and smiled. “I am a fairy. I live in the forest.” With a hand on each of my arms, as if to prevent another embrace, he kissed first one cheek, then the other, and then turned and ran away over my lawn, to the woods on the other side of the empty lot next door. I stood there and watched, my mouth hanging open and the echo of his chaste kisses still tingling my cheeks, until he disappeared from view.

I chuckled to myself as I jogged across the cool grass. I had snuck out to secretly meet a boy my family disapproved of, and now I was running across my lawn at night to slip back into my room. Just like I was back in high school again. Except I hadn’t ever done this in high school, and I didn’t need to do it now. But I didn’t want to tell them I was falling for the creature that has breached my mom’s wards and stole my noni’s keepsake, so I padded in silently, and closed the door behind myself without a sound. I would tell them another time.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I woke to an empty house. After a short search I found Noni down by the water, leaning on her cane not too far from where Salil and I had sat together last night. Her shoulders were hunched and her head tilted down, like she was tired. “Hey, Noni! You all right?”

She waved her free hand at me dismissively without looking up. When I reached her I was relieved to see her smile.

She sighed, her eyes sparkling up at me. “Ugh, I’m old, Vincenzo.” 

I laughed and took her elbow. “You’re not that old. Where’s Mom?”

“Eh, probably with Ren and Dana. She spends a lot of days with them…working.” The emphasis she put on ‘working’ made it clear she doubted they got any work done. Ren owned a magic shop called “The Wiccan Wave” across the street from the town beach, and did a brisk business selling charms and candles and essential oils to tourists. My mom had probably crafted half his inventory.

“Did you eat breakfast, Noni?” She felt so light and frail. I loosened my grip on her arm.

“I had coffee and toast, I’m fine.” She let me guide her back across the yard, and we sat in rocking chairs on the shady patio. “What did the Fae have to say for himself?”

Shit
. No wonder she was at the beach. “He wouldn’t tell me anything new. Said I should practice with more visions.”

“Ha! He’s right. Good.” She nodded and closed her eyes, leaning back into the chair.

I shook my head in confusion. Was she okay with me seeing Salil? Was she just going to let it go so easily? “Well, since you agree, I’m going down to the beach to practice.”

“About time you took your powers seriously. Good boy.” She didn’t open her eyes, but reached out and patted my hand. I left before she could chastise me further.

On the beach, I completed my protective circle and sat inside it, focusing on the things Salil had told me. I worked on seeing small, known, events: the next bonfire, our family dinner on Sunday, my coven friends Maxwell and Jasper. All the scenes came easily enough, with no symbolism. I moved on to broader topics, more unknown: when would I see Salil again? How would Liliana react to my knowing a Fae? What was my mother actually doing with Ren and Dana? Those visions were vague. Some proved easy to interpret, like Dana’s laughter making the wild colors of Ren’s shop bounce and shift: they were working, sort of, but having a lot of fun doing it. Others, like the teasing glimpse of Salil’s bare feet on the sand, left me confused. Was it incomplete, or was I just not skilled enough to understand the meaning?

Several hours later, I lay down, still inside the large pentacle I’d drawn on the beach, and rested. I caught a glimpse of pale hair above the rocks to my left, and closed my eyes. He wouldn’t surprise me this time. “I know you’re there.”

“You’ve been working hard.”

“Someone told me I should practice.”

“I’m proud of you.”

I propped myself up on my elbows and watched him climb down from the rocks to sit near me on the sand. He wore light linen pants and a thin, faded blue t-shirt, his long hair gathered into a ponytail at the nape of his neck with what looked like a piece of twine. He crossed his legs and tilted his chin toward me. “Continue.”

“I’m done, man. I’ve been out here for hours.”

“If it were easy, you’d already be an expert. Keep going. Try to Journey again, tell me what you see.” He settled in as if he expected me to comply.

I shook my head.
Fine. I’ll keep going.
But I didn’t want to go to my tree again. Those shifting roots were downright frightening. “Not that. I’ll do something else.”

He lowered his brows at me, but didn’t argue. “Try to see me, then. A future vision of us together.”

Sneaky Fae
. “Whatever.” Fighting a smile, I closed my eyes, folded my legs, and took my time centering myself again. When the vision came—a picture of us arguing, his face red and frustrated, me throwing my hands up angrily—I was so shocked I almost lost hold of the sight. I opened my eyes, and took a few deep breaths before looking at Salil.

“Well?”

“Uh…”

“If you don’t want to tell me the vision, tell me the feelings. Interpret it.”

Shit
. “I was angry.”

He raised his brows as if he expected more.

I tried to relive the emotions from the vision, to let the feelings pass through me again and monitor my reactions to them. I felt love. With passion and need and frustration, sure, but love, over and through it all. I looked at him and shook my head.
Not telling you that
. “I think you will continue to be a pain in my ass for a long time, Fae.”

He laughed, and I wondered if he knew what I’d actually seen, or felt.

“Try another.”

“I don’t need a coach, you know.”

“You have one anyway. Continue.”

Fuck.
I wanted to go inside and have a beer, maybe go for a swim, not sit here and get interpretation-lessons from my Fae crush. But saying no wasn’t an option. I looked weak enough already. “Fine.”

I tried another for Maxwell, attempting to see him and Myra more clearly this time. Easily, an image came to me of the two of them painting a bedroom a deep avocado green. They laughed and talked while pop music played from an old stereo. I opened my eyes, and tried to interpret what I’d seen. Was it a child’s bedroom? Or just a guest room? I wasn’t sure, but I knew it was a room in a house they shared. I smiled at the knowledge. I turned to look at Salil, who arched his brow at me in question.

“A good reading?”

I nodded. “Yep. My friend Maxwell. I think he’s going to be handfasted soon.”

Salil sighed. “Very nice. Now how about one of your mother?” He leaned back on one elbow and watched me.

“Okay, I guess.” It was a somewhat weird request. But maybe, if we were going to be together in the future, it was a back-door method of getting me to see a vision of him again.

I dropped into a vision of a future Mabon Rite, my mother’s favorite Sabbat. The Autumnal Equinox in Southern New England is a beautiful time—still almost as warm as summer, with a breath of fall in the air. For Mabon, we welcome the turn of seasons and the bounty of the earth with a food-packed celebration. We have a food drive, host a huge thanksgiving-style feast at the Covenstead, and work together to preserve the vegetables, fruits, and herbs from our coven gardens.

The vision I had of my mother on this future Mabon seemed typical: she was smiling, humming a song to herself, and packing jars with applesauce from a large, steaming kettle. I tried to focus, to get more visuals in the scene, but everything around her was foggy and unclear. I snapped my eyes open and frowned.

“Trouble?” Salil gently asked.

“I don’t know.” The kettle was ours, not one we used at the Covenstead. But why couldn’t I see anything else? Maybe there were people there I shouldn’t see yet: Salil? His family? I tried to gather emotions, but nothing struck me, it was just my mom, and my love for her was the same as ever. I sensed no threat, just a happy domestic scene.

“Identify your emotions.”

I groaned. “I tried that already.”

“You want to tell me what you saw? We can work it out together if you like.”

No, not at all.
“I…” I didn’t want to examine that vision, though I couldn’t say why. “Not really.”

Salil’s gaze on me was intense, as if he was trying to read me. When I scowled at him he turned back to look at the water, and softly suggested, “Try another, then. Something completely different.”

“Okay.” With my gaze on Salil, I focused on him, and tried to picture something really far in the future.

The first vision I had was no good. The beach, rocks, and lawn behind him shimmered into a forest background, but he was clearly not much older than he was today. I wanted to go farther. I tried to picture him with wrinkled skin, or silver hair. Did Fae even age that way?
Concentrate
.

The next picture was better. He was definitely older. His skin remained soft and smooth, but clusters of wrinkles near his eyes and a hunch to his shoulders told me he’d aged. He still looked elegant and slightly feminine, wearing a loose white shirt that was almost like a blouse. But his hair was shorter, cropped close to his head…it was thinning, the hairline pushed back and a circle of scalp visible near the top. Something tender and protective rose in me when I saw that. I noted the emotion but didn’t dwell on it, and tried to make out more details of the vision.

He sat in a room, a beautiful room filled with flowers. Like a greenhouse? Maybe just a sun-room or enclosed patio; it was difficult to tell. His hands clasped a partially constructed wreath of herbs, and on his lap there were more sprigs ready to be added—lavender, lemon balm, yarrow. Another person walked into the room, a young woman, and sat next to a young man who was already there. I got the feeling there were several other people there, too, but my vision was limited to those sitting closest to Salil. When the woman sat, he smiled and resumed crafting the wreath. A demonstration. Or a workshop? He was holding up a small, neatly wrapped bundle of copper wire, showing the others how to properly form the wreath.

Salil’s youthful face replaced the older one as I let the vision fade. His gaze flicked to mine, but he said nothing, just tilted his chin in a way that I knew meant he wanted an explanation.
How do I know him so well already?
I chuckled and shook my head.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. You make a good teacher, you know.”

“And you make a fine student, when you put forth some effort. You were able to interpret this last vision, I assume?”

“Yes, easily.”

He sighed in annoyance. “And?”

“I saw you, but older. I knew you were happy.” I didn’t add that I knew I was happy, too. That I loved that old, worn, version of his face. “Hey, how long do Fae live?”

“Same as you. No magically-long lifespans, unless we remain always on the Fae plane.”

Interesting.
“Do some Fae do that?”

“Very few. I never would.”

Even more interesting.
“Why not?”

He pressed his lips together, as if to stop his immediate response from escaping. After a moment he said, “Only those with Fae blood are allowed to live there.”

It took me a minute to realize what he meant: I couldn’t go with him. I didn’t know what to say to that. Was he so sure we were meant to be together? Or was I reading too much into his simple statement?

He changed the subject before my silence grew awkward. “How about if you try to Journey again before I leave?”

I smiled and shook my head in resignation. He’d encouraged me, built my confidence, and now he’d get what he came here for. I’d made some progress today. Maybe I’d get a new result if I tried Journeying again now. “Okay, fine. Well played, Fae.”

He cracked a smile but said nothing.

I shook out my hands and straightened my back. My legs ached to stretch, to stand, but I ignored the cramping muscles and remained seated, cross-legged on the sand. Hope rose in me as the roots and branches of my life-tree materialized in my mind’s eye. Everything seemed clearer, crisper. I knew without touching them what life choices several of the roots represented.
This might work.
I felt more connected to this place than I ever had before. When I saw the rushing water a wave of fear and dread washed through me and I panicked, almost losing the vision.

In the brief moment I was aware of my real-world surroundings I heard Salil scuffling in the sand, as if he was standing up quickly, or crawling to the edge of my circle. I brew out a long breath and re-centered myself.
I can do this
.

I kept breathing deeply, in and out, and a small bit of my concentration stayed on those breaths, keeping me grounded. As the tree came fully back into my view, I studied it with more attention to detail. There must be some clue here, something to tell me what I was up against. I reached out to touch some of the roots, scrutinized all the damage as it happened, and immersed myself in the emotions of the scene. Nothing. The roots being washed away still terrified me, but there was no more meaning to be found.

I opened my eyes to find Salil on his hands and knees, just outside my protective circle.

“Hey. I’m fine.”

He stood and let out a relieved breath. “You seemed to be in distress there for a moment. What happened?”

“I was more open to the emotions of it all, trying to get some new information. It didn’t work. Just scared the shit out of me.”

He nodded. “All right. You should rest now.” His concern was obvious, and I suddenly realized he’d love to reach into my circle and pull me close to him. The insight gave me more pleasure than anything I’d learned all day.

I stood slowly, stretching my arms over my head, then walked the perimeter of my circle to release the protective energy I’d called. Salil watched with his hands clasped together, shifting his weight from side to side. When I finished and stepped toward him he reached out to wrap his arms around me, burying his face in the crook of my shoulder. For a brief moment I felt a link between us, his love and pride and concern came through clearly. Then the connection snapped, as if a door closed, and I was aware only of the physical.