I listened to the astral breeze as the wind ruffled my hair. I had swept it back into a long ponytail, but several strands had escaped and were tickling my face and my neck.
And then, I heard it—what I had been waiting for. The soft chatter of the crocus, the low tones of trees talking together as they woke from their slumber, and the murmur of those who watched during the winter—tall sentinels who watched over the woodland. The swish of a huckleberry bush caught my attention, and I knew that a fox had run through the boughs. And there, barely within the tree line, the soft slithering of a garden snake—early in the year, but slowly waking to summer. There was a world of activity going on around me, a world that most people never paid attention to or even noticed.
I narrowed my focus, tuning into the massive entity that made up the heart of the Mystic Wood. It was crafty and devious, beautiful and bewitching, enchanting and dangerous, and yet…there was nothing evil about the woodland. But still, the wood was a deadly place for the unwary.
We’re waiting…
I froze, watching, but still nothing moved, and finally I backed away until I was halfway up the lawn. Then I turned and jogged toward the house. Whoever had been talking to me hadn’t been Esmara, that much I knew. And it hadn’t been Druantia. No, whoever had whispered those words lived deep inside the forest and right now, I didn’t want to meet them.
Back inside, I locked the door and leaned back against it, my stomach in knots. I reached for the light switch and turned the kitchen lights fully up. The energy had spooked me more than I had expected it to. As I calmed down, I started to move away from the door when a loud thump against it sent me spinning around. As I watched, the handle of the door turned, but the door was locked. It jiggled once more as I stared at it, then I heard something sliding across the porch. I was considering turning on the porch light and looking outside, but the thought of what might happen stopped me.
I waited for a moment, then—as the sounds vanished—I cautiously edged up to the door window and peeked out. In the darkness, there was nothing that I could see. I bit my lip and flipped on the porch light, but all I could see was a trail of mud on the porch floor. It wasn’t even muddy footprints, just a slick of mud from the screen door to the back door. I waited for a couple minutes and then shut off the porch light again, double-checking the lock.
What was that? I asked, hoping Esmara could hear me.
I’m not certain, but you’ve attracted the attention of the forest. I don’t sense danger…per se…or rather—evil. Everything in the Mystic Wood can be dangerous.
Am I safe?
Are we ever safe? But yes, child, you’re as safe as you can be, for living on the edge of a magical wood.
With that thought, I considered reading some of my great-grandmother’s journal before bed, but I was suddenly so tired that even the thought of it seemed overwhelming. I checked the doors downstairs, made sure the range and oven were off, and slowly trudged up the stairs to take a shower with Xi and Klaus right outside. After a long soak under the steaming water, I curled up in bed, turned on the TV, and with both kittens snuggled against me, I fell asleep to reruns of Frasier.
Sunday dawned clear and cool. For Western Washington, “clear” meant partially cloudy but with sun peeking through. We had very few cloud-free days per year—about sixty of them, from what I had read. For the most part, a “clear day” meant that we saw several sunbreaks throughout the day.
I had slept restlessly, with vague dreams of creatures hiding in the dark, waiting for me as I wandered through a dark woodland. Relieved to be awake, I dressed in capri pants and a pinup top with ruched sides and a sweetheart neckline. At a size 14 going on 16, I had an hourglass figure and plenty of padding. I liked my curves, though, and finally I was free from toxic people in my life trying to shame me for my size.
I was also five-nine, tall for most women, but I didn’t give a damn—I wore high heels whenever I wanted to. My hair was long and—currently red—it cascaded down my back in waves. Ari had dyed it burgundy with a gloss of violet for my birthday, and I loved it so much I decided to keep the color for a while. The color set off my eyes, which were hazel.
I slipped on a pair of ballerina flats and headed downstairs, only to find that somehow Xi and Klaus had managed to open the cupboard where I kept the dry cat food, and they had chewed through the bag. Kibble was scattered all over the kitchen, the bag was slumped over like a soldier who had fought valiantly to the end, and both kittens stared at me with wide, innocent eyes.
“Oh, don’t give me that look,” I said. “I know you did it.”
Xi squeaked and grabbed another kibble, chewing on it. Klaus sat down, staring at the food like he wanted to dive in again but wasn’t sure whether I was going to scold him. I tried not to laugh as I found the dustpan and whiskbroom and swept up the mess. Then I filled their dishes and opened a can of gooshy food for them, and before they could dive in, I scooped them up for a cuddle and a kiss on the head. Klaus, eyeing the food, wriggled out of my arms and lightly jumped down to the floor.
But Xi looked into my eyes and I fell into her gaze, my heart melting. She was growing into my familiar, and while I loved animals, I hadn’t realized just how strong of a bond could form, or how quickly it could form. While Klaus wore his emotions on his paw, Xi I could feel in the core of my being.
“Yeah, you’re a little spitfire, you are,” I whispered as she gently batted my nose. “Go eat, you little goober.”
I fixed myself a mocha and, glancing in the fridge, decided to have a sandwich for breakfast. I slapped together French bread, turkey breast, lettuce, tomato, and butter, and carried it over to the table where I sat down and took a bite of the sandwich. Then, like someone who had put off paying the bills too long, I gingerly reached for Colleen’s book of shadows. Taking a deep breath, I dove in, turning back the hands of time as I began to explore the past.
Colleen’s Book of Shadows
Entry: May 7, 1915
The ley lines are strong in this land, they cross over the town in a number of positions and they make everyone’s magic so much more powerful. The forest itself is alive, and filled with dreadful and wondrous creatures. We never expected, when we founded Moonshadow Bay, for the town to come alive so quickly.
The natives won’t come here—they warned us off. They’re friendly to us, unlike a number of the settlers around here, because we respect them and their customs. Johnny Salmon-Diver made a special trip here to talk to Brian and me, since we were the ones who first established Moonshadow Bay.
While he acknowledged our magic might be able to keep some of the chaos out, he warned that this particular area of the bay is considered off limits to the Nooksack tribe because it belongs to the “others.” We asked if there was a way we could cleanse the land and he said no—the “old ones” have lived here so long that they’ve left an indelible marker on the area. When we asked him to clarify who he was talking about, he refused to speak more of them, saying only that it attracted their attention when their names were used or people discussed them.
Johnny said that he wouldn’t be able to come again because his tribe didn’t want him to bring home any attachments—spirits are known to do that, of course. And apparently, around here, not only do spirits of the dead frequent the area, but other entities. When I asked him to what he was referring, Johnny would only say that here, the “others” were dangerous and bewitching, and to avoid the woods at night, and never let children near the Mystic Wood unattended.