Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

What Kind of Magic Spell to Use?

September 14-20, 1991

It was going to be a long day. Exhausted from another night of frightening visions, Sarah slunk into the kitchen. The nightmares had been getting worse, as well as her insomnia. Karen was standing before the counter, cracking eggs.

"Do you want eggs?" Her step-mother offered, reaching into the spice rack. "Darn!" She exclaimed as she pulled out an empty salt shaker; careful with her language lest young ears over-hear.

"Eggs will be fine." Sarah replied, still half-asleep.

"Still having bad dreams?" Karen asked sympathetically as she walked over to the pantry.

"Yeah," Sarah stifled a yawn, "I think they're getting worse."

"I could give Dr. Garrick a call." She pulled out a 40 oz box of table salt. "Darn! Where's all the salt disappearing to?" She placed the box on the counter.

"You think . . . ?" Sarah started, remembering the incident of a few years ago.

"TOBIAS ANTHONY WILLIAMS!!" Karen hollered. Toby poked his head into the kitchen. "Have you been spreading salt around the house again?!"

"No," Toby said innocently. "And Clare did it."

Karen sighed as the boy left the room. "Do you think they're acting out because your father isn't here?" Currently, Robert was at a conference in Connecticut and wouldn't be back until Friday.

Sarah shrugged, "It's all right, I'll just use ketchup. Her step-mother walked back to the stove. "You're looking tired too."

"Toby and Clare keep insisting there are monsters outside at night. It's been happening for a while now, actually."

"Oh." What else do you say to that? "Why . . . why am I only hearing about it now?"

"Your father thought it best to not upset you with something that is probably a childhood phase. He thinks you're stressed, and that's what is causing the nightmares."

"What do you think?"

"It's valid, heaven knows I was a wreck my first few weeks of college. I just want to see if it will pass on it's own. Dr. Mitchell's book on children says that it's a normal phase of development. I don't know."

Later, as Sarah stepped into her car, her foot stepped down on something with a crunching sound.

"Toby!" There was a box worth of salt spread out on the car floor.

"Clare did it!" His five-year-old voice sounded from the front window. "It keeps the monsters away!" Cranky, Sarah looked towards the house where her brother stood in the window. Sometimes, he could be such a little goblin. Her three-year-old sister popped into sight with a smile and a wave. You just couldn't stay mad at those two. Sarah shook out the floor mat, and with a sigh, she climbed into the car.

Sarah came into the bookstore, bleary eyed and grumpy.

"Ms. Williams, are you feeling unwell?" Mr. Caldwell asked. He was about to leave, but stopped when he saw her exhausted face.

She stifled a yawn. "Don't worry, I'll be alright."

"If you insist. Tony found some books through a dealer, I need to appraise them. Don't work yourself too hard." He hobbled towards the door on his cane. "Oh, and that strange young woman from next door wishes to speak to you."

"Did she say why?" Sarah knew instantly he was referring to Faylinn.

"Her exact words I believe were, 'it's an emergency; we're talking about total worse case scenario here'."

"Thanks Mr. Caldwell." He left, and Sarah peeked into the shop next door. Faylinn wasn't there, but a black kitten was sitting on the shop counter. "Hello, precious. What are you doing here?"

"I own the shop." A gravely voice answered. Sarah jumped back. Great, her lack of sleep had her hallucinating that the kitten could talk. "Are you all right miss?" She looked up and was relieved to see a grandmotherly woman come out of the backroom.

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm just looking for my friend."

"Sarah Williams, yes?" She could only nod. Was everyone in this shop clairvoyant? "Faylinn was looking for you. I'm Aradia Gwydion." She took Sarah's hand in her own. "Dear, you've been Fae-touched."

Would Aradia think she was crazy? "Just once or twice."

The older woman laughed heartily. "Child, Fae-touched is an expression. Now I see it, you are his beloved, the other half of his soul. You complete him." The woman winked, and turned to shoo the cat off her counter. "Scat! Go on," Aradia shouted something that sounded like 'Come-'ere-Ceoir' and added, "Shoo!" The cat calmly descended from the counter, and went into the other room. "Faylinn's pet. I don't know how she got out here. Speaking of which, she's gone up the street to get some things from the store."

"Thanks." Sarah peeked out the window as Faylinn came up the street with an overflowing arm-load of bags. Sarah exited the store and eased the girl's burden by grabbing one of bags. It wasn't enough. The bottom tore-out of one of the other paper bags, and several 40 oz boxes of salt landed on the pavement. The Irish girl jumped back like she was avoiding hot coals instead of the saline crystals trickling over the cement. "You use a lot of salt?" Sarah asked as she helped pick up the fallen boxes.

"Tons. Like you wouldn't believe."

"And you're not worried about your heart at all?"

"Oh, I don't eat the stuff!" Faylinn laughed. Looking up, she observed, "You're tired." Not 'you look tired', 'you are tired'.

"Uh, yeah. I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"Follow me." Through the store, through the storage room, was a little narrow room with a wooden staircase. Two doors; one to the thin strip of land and the alley behind the building, the other, Sarah could only guess, was to either the basement or the room with the furnace and water heater. Ascending the stairs, they reached another door.

As they entered her apartment, Sarah heard skittering coming from inside. "Do you have rats?"

"No." She didn't offer any more information. Faylinn's apartment was a collection of the eclectic. As they passed through the beaded curtain, Sarah was hit with the smell of spices and herbs. "Feel free to make yourself comfortable." She gestured towards the over-stuffed couch. Sarah sat, and took a closer look at the velvet curtains hanging on the wall behind the couch. They looked familiar.

Sitting calmly on the coffee table was the black kitten. Sarah made some kissing noises. "Come here Miss Ceoir."

In the kitchen, Faylinn cracked up with laughter in the middle of pulling out some glass bottles. "D'you know what you just called her?"

"No." The kitten crawled into her lap and curled up.

"Well, it was badly pronounced, but 'drunkard'."

Sarah blushed. "Oh. What's her real name?"

"Coimirceoir. It means guardian. She likes you." Going back to her work, Faylinn mixed a tablespoon each of herbs from three different containers and put it in a plastic baggy. "Try this tonight, mix it into two-and-a-half cups of boiling water. Let it steep for ten minutes, strain and drink one cup after dinner and another just before bed. If it doesn't work, we'll have to try the stronger recipe." She took out three more glass bottles. "Choices, choices. You don't suffer from glaucoma, headaches, or a depressive illness, do you?"

"Not that I'm aware of." The couch comfy, and Sarah felt like she was being lulled to sleep.

"Good." Faylinn chose one of the bottles for later and wrote down the recipe before looking up from her work. With a shrug, she moved the kitten, covered the prone figure of Sarah with a throw, and left the slumbering girl to rest.

A couple hours later, Sarah left Faylinn's apartment, and went back down to the book shop. Currently, the Irish girl was sprinkling salt along the floor boards near the front door. It was also noted that over the door hung a silver bell.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked incredulous. Most people would have reacted with a guilty look on their face. Most people.

"Relax." Faylinn said soothingly, completely shameless. "Salt won't damage the books."

The first thought that crossed Sarah's mind was, 'Has everyone lost their marbles?'. "Wha . . . why . . . ?" She finally asked.

"Do you believe in Magick creatures? You know; fae, dwarves, goblins, and all that jazz?" Sarah nodded, "Well, I firmly believe that who or what ever was hanging around last night was not human, and a malevolent force to boot. Trust me on this."

"What if your wrong?"

Faylinn shrugged. "Eh, luck favours the prepared."

Thinking for a moment, Sarah started, "My brother and sister, have lately-"

"Children often see what adults refuse to view, know what adults deny, and believe what adults question. Frequently, a child is braver than an adult, and can handle what the adult can not. They're stronger than you think."

"That was very profound. So, the monsters . . ."

"Oh yeah, definitely dark, mystical beings." Later, when Sarah had left for the day, Duncan Sullivan tried to enter the bookstore. When he found himself flat on his back from an unknown source, he decided to revise his tactics. As he walked away, Duncan thought he overheard the sound of quiet snickering.

Sunday passed in relative silence. Except that Faylinn's sleep remedy, while it made Sarah sleepy, the nightmares persisted.

Monday was the start of a very trying week. It seemed that, for some reason, over the weekend, Patrick had gotten very popular. Which was much to his surprise as he wasn't even in the states that weekend. It started with Brenna flirting with him, fluttering her blue eyes enticingly. Even though Patrick tried desperately to explain that he was engaged, she didn't seem to get the hint. But, that was Brenna, she flirted with all the guys.

Emilia on the other hand, after the incident in the library, also tried to cozy up to him, even sitting next to him in class, being coy while twisting her blonde locks. Sarah rolled her eyes, wishing she had Monica to talk to.

It seemed that there was a memo she missed, because it seemed her usual female classmates were doubling their effort to be cruel to her; Debra and Missy were following Brenna's lead, but Emilia didn't even bother associating with those three. Other than Monica, the only girl not trying to make her life miserable was Adina, and Sarah hadn't even heard the bookish girl speak. They started 'The Canterbury Tales' in English Literature.

Over dinner that night, Karen told Sarah that she got a call from the Nursing home where Robert's grandmother, Sarah's great-grandmother, was a resident. "They called me this afternoon," Karen explained. "The orderly that called said that great-granny Cagney is being disruption. They want to evict her."

Morrigan Cagney was 91 years old and more Irish than you can shake a stick at. Of course, you wouldn't want to do that because she'd take it from you and beat you with it for your audacity. Then make you feel guilty for exhausting a 'poor old lady'.

"But, haven't they said that before?"

"Yes, and last time they wrote up a contact. But, apparently, this time, a contract isn't going to cut it. I'm going to have to call your father." She did, later that night. It was an interesting conversation.

Sarah could here it from the living room. "Robert, she's your grandmother . . . . Your parents are having a hard enough time taking care of themselves . . . . You know she's not talking to your Uncle Terrell, not since they had that falling out . . . . She won't . . . . Because your brother lives in Vermont and she wants to stay in state . . ." This went on for a while before Robert finally agreed that great-granny Cagney could stay with them, until they found another assisted living facility. Several more calls, and Karen had everything arranged.

Later, as Karen was packing, she told Sarah the arrangements that had been made. "I'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon to pick up your great-grandmother. I called Mrs. Lazzaro up the street, she can take care of Clare during the day and Toby when he gets off from school. Paige still walks Toby to and from school, so you don't have to worry about that. I'll pick up some groceries in the morning and some money for pizza or what ever will be in the tin on the fridge. All the numbers will be on the fridge. I should be back Wednesday or Thursday."

In Tuesday's class, Professor Kinsey assigned the Greco-Romantic myth seminars. He chose them randomly from a pewter bowl. "Mr. Avery; Eros and Psyche. Ms. Damosieaux; Ariadne and King Mino's Labyrinth . . ." Sarah listened to the professor's voice and was lulled to sleep. She didn't know this until class had ended, she had missed the entire thing. "Ms. Williams."

Sarah awoke with a jerk. "Oh, I . . . I am so sorry, I just . . ."

"Follow me to my office." Seeing she had no choice in the matter, Sarah followed. In the well decorated office, she took a seat. "You're one of my best students Ms. Williams." Professor Kinsey told her, sitting behind his wooden desk.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep." Sarah explained quickly.

"I know. That's why I'm worried about you." He leaned forward, with an expression of gentle concern. "Has everything been going well lately? Any problems?"

"It's not that, I'm just not sleeping well lately." Sarah watched him, still a drowsy. He was handsome, obviously.

"May I ask why?"

"Nightmares, mostly. I guess I might be stressed." Her mind wandered a little.

"Hmmm." He sat back. "Well, not much I can do for you there." Looking down at a clip-board, he announced, "Your assignment is Hades and Persephone. I can't wait to see your view on the matter." She smiled and blushed a little, a strange feeling began in the vicinity of her internal organs.

"May I ask you a question Professor?"

"I believe you already have, but go on."

"You didn't actually chose the myths randomly."

"Not so much a question, but I'll answer it anyway. I actually chose out the myths before hand."

"May I ask why?"

"Myths are meant to instruct, lessons contained within fiction." Sarah nodded, she understood, "What's your favourite myth, of any origin?"

"The Labyrinth."

"And you understand the lessons the Labyrinth tried to teach?" Sarah nodded again. "Now, if I was to say chose any myth to do a report on which one would you chose?"

Sarah opened her mouth to answer, but just said, "Oh." Realization had just hit her.

"Exactly, the myths I assigned are to give a necessary lesson to those that need it. And a necessary lesson isn't always a pleasant one."

"Thank you professor." Sarah exited the office just as a professionally dressed woman entered. She was the epitome of proper from her sensible shoes to her fair hair tied up in a bun.

As the woman entered the office, Sarah over-heard Kinsey greet, "Nice to see you Professor Perth." Sarah took the most direct route to the main building where the cafeteria was situated. That meant cutting through the art department. Have way through, she realized she forgot her book bag and returned to Kinsey's office. When she got there Professor Perth was leaving. Even beneath her schooled features, it was evident she was in a huff.

Sarah entered the office, her professor was on the phone. "Yes I'm sure . . . You got them? . . . Good, talk to you later." Sarah picked up her book-bag trying not to overhear the conversation. Professor Kinsey smiled at her and the strange feeling started again. "Family matter." He explained.

"Oh, I just forgot this." She turned to go.

"Ms. Williams," He came up behind her. "You have glitter on you back." He brushed off gently. She blushed again.

"I must have gotten too close to one of the projects in the art wing. Thank you." She exited again. She was halfway across campus when it occurred to her. She mentally kicked herself; she had a crush on her professor.

After class that day, she got off before her shift started and entered the Magick Shoppe. "Why didn't you tell me it was nightmares?" Faylinn asked, not looking up from her book.

Once you got used to Faylinn, her ability to know was slightly less freaky. "Nice to see you too. You think you can do anything about them?"

She finally looked up and smiled, "No prob. Follow me." They went down the row containing gems. Faylinn meditated for a moment before choosing a few. "Mexican onyx," She picked up a brown and white stone, "Helps one sleep; sodalite, protects from external negative energy; opal, aids in dreaming; amethyst," She picked up that gem with a pair of tweezers. "Heightens intuition and grants intuitive dreams; citrine, helps realize dreams; diamond, relieves nightmares-"

"Diamond? Oh I couldn't." Faylinn gave her a look that said there was no room for argument.

"Yes, you could. Now, where was I? Jade, helps with lucid dreaming and controls content; and jasper, soothes nerves."

"Do you think this'll actually work?"

"If I didn't, would I wear this all the time?" She pulled out a gold chain from inside her pocket. On the end sparkled a sapphire and a turquoise. "Sapphire, clears the third eye and sharpens psychic ability and intellect, also protects wearer from capture, especially useful in legal matters. Turquoise, protects against environmental pollutants, speeds healing and improves communication. It is also said that when the owner is in danger, the stone will change colour. Now, one more thing." Sarah followed her to the herb row. "Chervil, stops bad dreams. Also keeps away slugs. So, tell me about the guy."

"I'd rather wait until I had a full night's sleep to make sure it wasn't a fluke."

That night Sarah placed the little velvet bag of gems beneath her pillow. That was the night the nightmares stopped. Unfortunately, Sarah's dreams took on a slightly more erotic plot.

On Wednesday, Karen wasn't back yet. There was almost a static quality to the air that day, and it was making Sarah antsy. It felt like something was going to happen. The Lazzaro's had taken their grandchildren, as well as Toby and Claire to an outdoor movie set up in Kingsbury. So, Sarah, anxious as she was, decided to take a walk. But, for the life of her, she couldn't persuade Merlin to come with her. She ended up at Glen park where she had played as a child. Walking past the stone obelisks, she was startled by a voice.

"Good evening pretty one." Sarah turned towards it.

"Mr. Sullivan." She greeted curtly. He was sitting on the stone bench, fiddling with a clay pipe.

"Tsk, tsk, so cold. Do you need a ride home?" Both noticed the sun was setting quickly.

"I'm fine. Thank-you." She turned away and walked briskly to the edge of the park.

He followed her, "Come now, a young lady walking around after dark. Isn't that just asking for trouble?"

Sarah picked up the pace, the entrance in sight, and fully intended to take refuge in a nearby store. She slipped through the exit to the street, but Duncan caught up and grabber her by the elbow. She tried to pull away from his grasp.

"Is there a problem here?" Another cultured voice came through the gloom.

"Professor Kinsey!" She hadn't even noticed the car there. Duncan back off at his appearance. Both men exchanged dark glares.

"There's no problem." Duncan walked away.

"Ms. Williams, do you need a lift?" Nodding, Sarah climbed into Kinsey's posh car, rubbing her bruised elbow.

"Thank you so much, I . . ." She sighed. "I can't believe I was so stupid."

"Now, now, it's all right." Professor Kinsey pulled her close. "Who was that?"

"Duncan Sullivan."

"Ex-boyfriend?"

"Lord, no!" Kinsey laughed.

"Fair enough. Are you going to be all right?"

""I'll live." They pulled up in front of Sarah's house. "Thank you."

He granted her a chaste kiss upon the back of her hand, "It is always an honour to escort a fair maiden. Good night Ms. Williams."

"Good night Professor Kinsey." It was later that Sarah realized, she never gave him her address.

That night, Sarah came home to a message that Karen would be away for one more day because of a paperwork mishap.

It was Thursday evening, and Sarah was a nervous wreck. She was panicking and had no idea why. It started to storm that afternoon, and the darkness engulfed the house, knocking out the power. It felt like something was desperately trying to get in. The two young ones sat huddled together, waiting for the storm to cease. She desperately wanted to call someone. She jumped as a loud knock came from the front door.

Clinging to a baseball bat, she hollered through the door, "Who is it? I'm armed!"

"You have a bat!" Faylinn's voice came from the other side of the door. "Let me in, I'm getting soaked!" Sarah pulled open the door and let her enter. Faylinn wringed out her coat, "Thanks." Peering into the darkness, she said sardonically, "This is cozy."

The two girls entered the living room, and the two young ones flew towards Faylinn, almost knocking her over.

"Toby! Clare!" Sarah scolded. Faylinn shrugged, and when the children unattached themselves from her, she set up and lit several candles that she pulled from her bag. "So, any reason you stopped by?"

"So you wouldn't have a nervous-breakdown. And I was bored. Who wants to play 'Twister'?"

It was getting late, and Sarah was about to put the two little ones to bed. She entered the living room, just out of sight. Faylinn, with Clare curled up in her arms and Toby was lying with his cheek upon her leg, was singing.

"Where dips the rocky highland, of sleuth wood in the lake. There lies a leafy island, where flapping herons, wake the drowsy water rats. There we've hid our fairy vats, full of berries, and of reddest stolen cherries.

"Come away oh human child, to the waters and the wild, with a faery hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping, than you can understand." Sarah paled as she recognized the song. She wanted to stop her, but . . . she listened on.

"Where the wave of moonlight glosses, the dim grey sands with light. By far off furthest rosses, we foot it all the night. Weaving olden dances, mingling hands and mingling glances, till the moon has taken flight. To and fro we leap, and chase the frothy bubbles, whilst the world is full of troubles and is anxious in its sleep." Faylinn repeated the chorus, and continued.

"Where the wandering water gushes, from the hills above Glen-car. In pools among the rushes, that scarce could bathe a star, we seek for slumbering trout, and whispering in their ears, give them unquiet dreams. Leaning softly out, from ferns that drop their tears, over the young streams." The next chorus, and she continued to the next verse.

"Away with us he's going; the solemned eyed." This gave Sarah a slight feeling of nerves, and a little guilt, "He'll hear no more the lowing, of the calves on the warm hillside. Or the kettle on the hob, sing peace unto his breast. Or see the brown mice bob, round and round the oatmeal chest. For he comes, the human child, to the waters and the wild, with a faery hand in hand, for the world's more full of weeping, than you can understand." By the time the song ended, both children were asleep.

"Please, don't sing that." Sarah finally said, feeling more than a little guilty.

"As you wish."

"Aren't you going to ask why?"

"Do you want me to ask why?"

Sarah paused for a moment. All could be heard was the storm letting up. "I'll put the kids to bed."

Friday rose, calm after the storm. That morning, Karen's car pulled into the driveway. Her step-mother exited, looking exhausted. On the other side, her great-grandmother exited, completely calm. Sarah went down the steps to meet them.

"How was the drive?" Sarah finally asked after hugs and greetings.

Grabbing some of the suitcases, Karen said, "Well, it was pretty good once you got out of the city." They got great-granny Cagney settled before Sarah had to leave for class. During her Poetry class, Kinsey kept looking towards her like she was going to disappear. After class, he asked her to stay behind.

"How have you been feeling?" He asked her.

"Pretty good, I guess. The nightmares stopped, at least."

"And that Sullivan chap has left you alone?"

"Yes."

"Good, good."

Sarah smiled, "If I didn't know better, I'd think this was favouritism."

"Good thing you know better. I just don't want to see anything bad happen to one of my few students that actually bring up the learning curve. Especially if it was preventable. Take care Ms. Williams."

"Professor Kinsey." On route to her job, she picked up a few things that her great-grandmother needed. But, there was one thing on the list she couldn't find. She stopped by the Magick Shoppe. "Faylinn," She was about ask something else, but what came out of her mouth was, "What are you doing?"

"Meditating." The Irish girl was sitting upon the counter in the lotus pose.

"Stressful day?"

"That's putting it mildly."

"Does it work?"

"Well, I haven't killed anyone yet, so I'd have to say, yes." She grinned and asked, "Now, you didn't just come in here to bother me about my apparent quirkiness. What do you need?"

"Oh, do you have a Rowan cross?"

"Both traditional and Celtic, third row, next to the pentagrams. So, great-granny showed up, am I right?"

"Of course." Sarah paid and went next door. As she was leaving, a ruddy-haired man with a ponytail entered Faylinn's shop. Minutes later he was practically given the bum's rush. Sarah came back.

"What was that about?"

"He annoyed me."

"Boy, I'd really hate to see what happen when someone actually pisses you off."

Faylinn smiled. "You would hate it. No survivors." She winked and went back to her meditation. As an after-thought, she added, "Try to stay away from him. He's bad news. Trust me."

That night, as Sarah helped put her siblings to bed, they demanded the lullaby that Faylinn was singing. Nothing she did changed her mind and eventually she acquiesced to call Faylinn.

Half a ring, and the Irish girl picked up with a, "They want the song, don't they?"

"Yes. You're on speaker phone."

"I'll teach it to you." After the song, and a story, surprisingly, about Goblins from Sarah, her younger siblings finally settled down.

They, she herself tried to sleep. But, she was only rewarded with dreams that were far too shameful to talk about. Unfortunately it seemed that her choices in dreams were that, or terrifying nightmares. Not much of a choice.

-x X x-

Sorry about taking so long, the last little bit has been hectic, with moving into Rez, and the start of classes. So, updates are going to be a little more sporadic now.

I had so much trouble with this chapter and I don't know why! I might revisit it.

The song is, The Stolen Child by Lorenna McKennitt based off the poem by W.B. Yeats. Can you blame Sarah for being nervous? It's a beautiful song, check it out.

Trivia time: What does Heart (Original singers of Magic Man two chapters ago.), Lorenna McKennitt, and myself have in common (and it's not a connection to this story)? A clue is on my profile, very first sentence. A digital cookie to whoever gets it!