Page 3 of Shadowed Summer Sun

Turning to my family, I regarded their faces, a mixture of hope and concern dotting their brows. An only child till ten, I gained twelve siblings and one very overprotective mother figure. I adored them.

Betty blinked, shaking her head and smiling at me. The youthful mischief that typically sat behind her eyes returned, the warning words releasing their hold.

“Oh, you will do well, child. Your journey will begin soon, and we will help you prepare.” Old Betty, as the townsfolk called her, winked at me and swung her black and gray braid over her shoulder, her numerous necklaces rattling with her movement.

As cunning and formidable as ever, Betty was also a constant reassuring presence within the Coven and the best damn conjurer around. I had learned so much from her, but there were still canyons of wisdom that only she possessed. I envied her easy confidence, or as she would call it, her ability to give zero fucks.

With a quick flick of her wrist, a flame shot to life beneath the cauldron hanging over our large wood stove.

Creaking bones and all, Betty sat down next to me at the table, her slight form and bent spine creating a “spooky” aura when paired with her two-colored stare- one yellow and one green. She was the sweetest thing to most everyone and only got salty when the occasion demanded it.

But ignorance plagued the mortals around our forest and rolling hills, leaving the Coven to be seen as a crazed bunch of old witches that spewed curses. It didn’t stop them from seeking us out when they wanted something or someone.Ugh, love spells are the worst. They never work the way they want them to. It’s why we charge extra, disregarding our warnings, after all.

As she settled down into her chair, Betty exuded a bout of worry, one she tried to hide, but I could sense the unease festering behind her ribcage. We’d been dealing with so much as of late, and I feared for the worst.

“Has she harmed you again?” I laid a hand on hers.

“Oh,” she patted my fingers, “Sending her nightmares as always, but don’t worry about Moira. She’s been expelled from the Coven, and her greedy magics will be kept far away. Your worries are better set elsewhere.”

I frowned at her, unconvinced.

“Oh, child,” she smiled at me in that lop-sided way that only Old Betty could pull off, “Moira’s antics shouldn’t bother you. There is always some witch that seeks and reaches too high. She’s no different than the other fools who’ve tried to manipulate the cycle for their own purposes, and we’ve dealt with her just the same. And,”

She narrowed her gaze on me.

“If you’re so concerned, we can perform a binding when you accomplish your greater task.”

I grinned and nodded, turning to examine the table before me. More trappings for my journey had been laid out. I eyed them expectantly, both fear and excitement skittering across my spine.

“You’ve done your preparations well. I can see that, but this particular ritual, whatever the Old Ones are calling you to do, requires three more pieces of magic you must seek out while the Solstice Sun is high in the sky. Go with them to the site of your ritual at the crest of midnight and await your answer.”

I knew exactly what the Old Ones wanted me to do. I’d seen it in my dreams my entire life, even before Old Betty took me in. Something had always lurked in the shadows behind me, dogging my steps and intensifying as I entered womanhood. That dark presence waited for me in the woods, knowing that I was to come to him this night.

Blinking out the thoughts, I focused on Betty. “All right. How do you know of the items? Did you receive a message?”

“The Coven scried as you slept, seeking insight into your trials. We were given the three sites and the three decrees.”

I swallowed hard. A Challenge of Three given to the Coven through a scry was a powerful omen. One that I must heed and keep at the front of my mind. Listening intently to Betty’s words, my High Priestess stood behind me, braiding crow feathers into my hair with expert dexterity.

“Firstly, gain a blessing from a spirit who does not belong. Seek it out past The Simple Bridge. Be wary of a fallen goat.”

Nodding, I locked her instructions away in my mind.

Our Coven’s next in line, Agatha, came up behind Betty, replacing her fingers as they worked more of my hair into several small braids. She wove aquamarine beads into the strands and spoke the Second Challenge.

“Secondly, for our Summer, she will follow the Ol’ Willowies into the Vinemire Forest and seek a bauble from Bluestack Jack.”

I shivered despite the Sun’s warmth as the truth of this Challenge snaked its way across my spine. With a kiss on my cheek, Agatha slid her carnelian ring onto my middle finger and stepped aside for Margaret.

Only a few years older than me, Margaret, or Maggie as we’d taken to calling her, was the most recent to pass from a Maiden to a Mother, leaving me the sole Sister who was not a Crone or Matron. She was kind, and her daughter Cerridwen had been the first to see the husk corpses left by the infecting evil.

The small child had run into the Coven house, screaming and crying, as she told her tale of the mummified husk she’d found out past our home near the foot of the Vinemire Forest’s Crag Crone Cliff. Cerri had detailed a strange, gaunt, even for death, animal at the base of the Cliff.

It had no fluid nor blood, and when we’d investigated, keeping watch over several days, it had refused to decay and return to the Earth.

Looking up at her remorsefully, I held out my hand as Maggie placed a pyrite stone in my palm. “The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.”

I nodded. In my other hand, she placed a rounded ball of malachite. “Holding onto the old will kill the new.”

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