Page 15 of Magic in the Woods
The Velkans,whose last name I learned from the hand-painted sign hanging outside the front door of the trailer, weren’t wealthy, but they were rich in love for one another. Annabel had claimed they were under the protection of the Coven, but the protection they provided didn’t seem to extend to anything further than the necessities. They only hadjustenough food, and having an extra person in the house had them taking what little food they had and stretching it further.
Luke came home every day with bags of food and supplies in his arms. I found out he worked at the Coven, in maintenance, and often brought home leftover food from the kitchens there. He’d open the door to the trailer, kiss his mother on the cheek, and tug affectionately on the two braids Emily kept her hair in. He’d nod to me in acknowledgment before heading to change and shower.
The steady buzzing sound in the trailer came from the electrical wires strung on wooden posts, much like the ones at my grandmother’s cottage. The wires looked like waves as the posts got smaller and smaller the farther they were from the trailer. There was a point in the distance where the line of posts ended and the wires took a nosedive into the dirt. The Velkans warned me against exploring that far from the trailer. Their electricity came from the Coven, and they didn’t want me getting too close.
I’d promised I’d stay away.
And Annabel kept true to her word. She’d let me stay with her family, in turn letting me regain the strength I’d lost in the woods. I’d been a lot weaker than I’d thought, and it took me a week to recover enough strength to use my magic.
I’d adapted to their routines quickly, finding the Velkans kind and welcoming. They made it easy to become a part of their well-oiled machine. I did chores and daily tasks beside Annabel and Emily, coming to enjoy their company. They seemed pleased that I knew how to clean, cook, and garden—all skills I’d learned back at the cottage.
The garden was their lifeline—without it, everyone in the house would only be able to eat what little food came from the Coven, and that wasn’t enough to sustain anyone. They focused on growing hearty root vegetables and produce that could be canned, used when the cold winter months came.
I saw Luke at night when we all ate dinner together as a family. He didn’t talk much about his work, instead teasing Emily and offering to do the dishes if he could pick the movie that night—though most often, he’d fold and let his sister pick.
A small black television with a video-cassette player sat on the counter nearest the kitchen table. After the dishes were done, we’d sit in our chairs and enjoy a movie together. I’d heard of movies and television before, seen them in thepackhouse, but my grandmother had never had one in the cottage. Being in my kitten form at the packhouse, I’d never been able to sit and watch a movie without being interrupted by someone picking me up or insisting on smooshing their face into mine, peppering my nose with kisses. Every night with the Velkans, my eyes were glued to the screen, following the storyline, my attention rapt.
Here it almost felt like my grandmother’s cottage, the way they followed the same routine each day—some form of cleaning, cooking, or gardening always needed to be done. But it was also different. Every night we ate dinner and then laughed together watching a movie. It was a comfort I hadn’t known I needed.
Emily hadn’t lied when she’d claimed Annabel was a wonderful cook. The way she melded flavors and textures…I couldn’t stop eating. It took me weeks, but I regained the weight I’d lost in the woods. I felt stronger than I ever had before. Between the food I was eating and the new freedom I had, I felt lighter than I ever had before.
Still, there was a weight, deep in my stomach, pulling me down. Keeping me grounded in reality. That pressure of being who I was—being part of the Sarracenia lineage—ultimately made me feel heavy.
The summer grew hot, and I spent my days in the garden, helping the family weed and water. We rotated pumpkins and watermelon, harvested tomatoes before the bugs bore holes through their skin, and snapped ears of corn from their stalks.
The garden reminded me of my grandmother’s. It was similar in size, but they spent more than twice the amount of time tending to it. They didn’t use magic to encourage the plants to grow. Instead they put work into the plants, encouraging them to produce so they could eat. The Velkans worked for what they wanted.
My back ached from bending over to pull weeds. I’d try to help Emily trim the purple flowery bushes she called lobelia around the trailer, but Annabel had shooed me away, assigning me to the weeds sprouting up from around the rows and rows of onions. I’d accidentally pulled an onion bulb from the ground when I first started working in the garden, and the look of disappointment on Annabel’s face made me never want to do that again. I took my time, making sure to only pull the weeds, but that meant more time leaning over the dirt.
The Velkans’ garden was larger than Elise’s had been, which made sense. This family depended on the garden for produce, whereas Elise grew some vegetables but focused more on medicinal plants.
Elise.It’d been weeks since I’d left her standing there with snowflakes sprinkling down on her from the sky. I wanted her and Kleio to know that I was okay…that I’d made it somewhere safe. I stood, leaning back as my hands cradled my lower spine.
“Annabel?” I called out. She was a few rows down, using a shovel to dig out some weeds that’d rooted deep.
She looked up from her work, beads of sweat along her hairline.
“Is there any way I could send someone a letter?” I asked.
Annabel looked down at where she’d been weeding. “Depends. How far has it got to go?”
I did quick calculations in my head. “About three hours or so away.”
Her facial features relaxed. “I’m sure we could manage that. Luke can drop it off at the post office on his way to work.”
She hadn’t thought I was sending a letter to the Coven…had she? I would never put their family at risk like that.
“Annabel?” I called out again.
She looked up once more.
“What if I don’t know exactly where to send it?” I asked.
She pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “There’s a phone book that Luke got at the chamber of commerce in town a month ago. It’s in the cabinet under the TV. Do you know the name of the person you want to send it to?”
I nodded. I’d bet the packhouse wouldn’t be listed, but I knew Elise’s last name was Wilson. Her dad’s name was Roger—he’d be listed. If I addressed it to him, her parents would be sure she got it.
“I’ll have it ready by the morning,” I said.
