Nature of the Witch Read online

  Mags looked disappointed, “Of course it means something. Everything means something. You're a Daughter of the Earth, the earth will speak to you in a way that it hasn't spoken to anyone for hundreds of years. You will learn to read everything that nature's telling you. It speaks to you with the moon, with the clouds, even in leaf patterns and bird feathers.”

  “Bird feathers?” Kiera repeated with a cynical smirk. “Nature's going to talk to me using bird feathers?”

  “I'll teach you the basics,” Mags promised her, “but I don't have your gifts. The rest you will have to learn yourself. Take the moon tonight; it's a waxing crescent moon. Waxing is the time to state your intentions and wishes and sort out goals. We can then use the moon's energy to help us achieve those goals. It's a good time to plant crops that will flower above ground, the moon's energy helps them to flourish.”

  “Right,” Kiera glanced at Mags sceptically.

  Mags continued, “Of course, it speaks to you much more personally. I'm talking in broader terms here but it's quite fitting in your case. I'm going up to bed but you should stay a moment. You should speak to it, state your intentions, feel its energy. I'll see you in the morning. Just turn the key in the lock when you come inside.”

  “Thanks for dinner,” Kiera watched Mags hobble indoors, “night.”

  She swirled the last dregs of wine around her glass and looked up at the moon. It stared back down at her silently.

  If the moon could speak she thought it would talk about loneliness; all alone up there in a vast all-consuming blackness, forced to look down on a world full of people who didn't appreciate each other enough until it was too late. She wondered if the moon was ever fed-up watching mankind's stupidity.

  She widened her gaze and let her eyes rest on the flicker of the stars around it. Mags had told her to state her intentions to the moon but now she was distracted.

  “Are you up there, dad?” She whispered. “Are you watching over me? If you are, am I doing the right thing?”

  The sky continued twinkling but didn't answer. The moon carried on glowing as it had done and Kiera decided that if the moon wasn't going to answer her questions then she didn't feel like talking to it either. She rose to her feet and picked up the glasses and plates. When she reached the door she turned back, unsure if she'd heard a noise somewhere beyond the garden gate. She waited a moment and then shrugged and closed the door behind her, turning the key in the lock.

  The house was still. Mags must already be in bed. She may not have told the moon about her intentions but she knew quite clearly what they were. If there was any truth in all the magic stuff (and the pile of rubble she had once called home suggested there was) then the first thing she was going to do was learn how to communicate to the dead. If she could use magic to speak to her dad then she could put up with all the strangeness; she'd speak to the moon and she'd even be willing to wear old lady clothes.

  Kiera was awoken the following morning with Mags gently shaking her shoulders. She forced her eyes open sleepily.

  “What time is it?”

  “4:30.”

  “4:30!” Kiera exclaimed. She rolled over but Mags pulled back her sheets.

  “Time for your first lesson dear,” Kiera heard her drawing back the curtains, “wakey wakey.”

  Kiera sat up and rubbed at her eyes, “Does it have to be this early?”

  Mags patted her hand sympathetically, “I'm afraid so. This is the best time so rise and shine.”

  Once Mags had left the room Kiera was tempted to pull her covers back up and return to the land of nod but instead she dutifully pushed herself out of bed. The first thing she did was brush her teeth and wash her face which made her feel a little more human. Then she opened her wardrobe and groaned.

  The only clothes in there belonged to Mags. She pulled out a pair of cream cotton trousers and a t-shirt with a picture of a cat on that said 'meow's it going?'

  “Oh well, needs must,” she muttered to herself. She slipped into the clothes, which hung loosely from her in an unflattering manner, and headed downstairs.

  Mags was waiting for her at the front door. When Kiera reached her she opened the door and led her outside. It was still dark as she took Kiera on to the lawn and gestured for her to sit down.

  “The grass is damp,” Kiera complained, but Mags ignored her so she sat down with a sigh.

  “A witch's power is drawn from the natural world,” Mags told her, “you must learn how to do this, how to use the world to give you your energy. The most powerful of the witches of old were so powerful because they knew exactly how to utilise the earth. For a witch the most important times of day are sunrise and sunset.”

  Kiera nodded, “Hence waking me up at an ungodly hour.”

  “All I want you to do is sit here and watch the sunrise,” Mags gestured upwards to the dark sky, “not too difficult is it?”

  “OK,” Kiera agreed grudgingly. Bed still seemed like a better option.

  “Whilst you do that just take the time to enjoy it and everything around you. I want you to really feel the grass beneath you, listen to the world as it wakes up and notice how it makes you feel.”

  Kiera wanted to say that it made her feel sleepy and the grass beneath her was making her bottom wet but instead she forced a smile, “Got it.”

  Mags headed back indoors, leaning heavily on her walking stick.

  Probably going back to bed, Kiera thought to herself, it's alright for some.

  Ten minutes passed and Kiera was bored. She fidgeted into different positions, crossing and uncrossing her legs. She felt the damp patch on her bottom spreading down through her legs. Then a soft light began to filter through the dark and, as night was gradually banished, the horizon erupted into colour.

  It was an amazing sight and Kiera realised she had never watched a full sunrise before. In fact she couldn't recall ever just sitting and absorbing the sights of the world around her until she came to Cornwall. She had never taken the time to sit and just appreciate the wonders of nature.

  As the sun rose slowly bringing light and warmth, Kiera lost herself in the beauty of it. She forgot her worries, forgot her wet bottom and feeling tired; she was focused on the sunrise and that was when she felt it. It started as a tingle in her toes and then it worked its way upwards throughout her body. It was the same sensation she had experienced the previous day at the flat and the day before at Tintagel. This time though she didn't fear it because she knew what it was. It was magic and she was a witch. It was a strange thought to have but she knew it was true, could feel the truth of it bubbling through her veins. She lifted her hand and turned it around in front of her face.

  Then she closed her eyes and ran her fingers through the blades of grass around her. She could hear whisperings coming from inside her head, but there were too many voices for her to understand the words; she wasn't even sure they were speaking English.

  She took some deep breaths and then had a troubling thought. The last time this happened she had destroyed a block of flats. A sense of panic simmered in her chest before rising into her throat and turning into a shout, “Mags quick!”

  In that moment she threw her hands in the air and the energy that had been flowing around her body exploded out of her fingertips setting the vegetable patch on fire.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kiera and Mags ate their breakfast in silence. Kiera was busy mulling over what had happened. What was the point in having powers if she couldn't control them? What if she hurt someone? She'd been lucky so far. No-one had been hurt when she brought down the block of flats, and today she'd set fire to the vegetable patch rather than the house with Mags inside it, but what if her luck ran out?

  Mags ate her breakfast with one eye on her bowl and one eye on Kiera thoughtfully. As if she could read Kiera's mind she paused before they rose from the table and patted Kiera's hand reassuringly.

  “It comes with practice dear,” she explained, “the fault is mine. I keep underestimating how stro
ng your powers already are. You'll learn how to control them.”

  “I'm sorry about your vegetables.”

  Mags waved a hand dismissively, “We'll grow more.”

  “Yes, I'll help,” Kiera promised, “although you'll have to pick a different plot. I don't think anything will be growing there for a while.”

  They had managed to put the fire out with a few buckets of water but the soil looked scorched and dry.

  “Nonsense, we can use the same plot,” Mags rolled her eyes at Kiera's ignorance, “you're a Daughter of the Earth. If you put your mind to it those vegetable could be growing again in seconds. The earth listens to you. You just have to speak to it with authority.”

  Kiera frowned, “I'm not sure…”

  “In fact,” Mags interrupted, “that's your homework. I want you to grow more vegetables using only seeds, the burnt soil and your powers. You can't use any tools or water.” Mags sat back looking pleased with herself, “Yes that'll be a good way for you to learn. Also I want you to get straight back on the horse so to speak. You'll spend time meditating at sunrise and at sunset. You'll use that time to get used to the feel of your powers but also at reining them in.”

  “If you're sure,” Kiera said doubtfully.

  And so Kiera's training began in earnest. It was actually rather dull apart from the times Kiera set fire to things or caused minor accidents. Mags gave her books to read about plants and herbs and she also read about the seasons, about local history and basically a variety of topics that didn't seem to help her much in becoming a better witch.

  Every day she took a seat next to the parched soil of the vegetable patch and commanded the seeds to grow and each day they ignored her and everything seemed to shrivel a little further.

  At sunrise and sunset she sat in the garden (next to a bucket of water) and just let her mind wander. Sometimes nothing happened (on these occasions she was secretly relieved), then other times she felt her powers start to tingle and she would instantly panic, releasing them before they became too strong. She never caused any major catastrophes but, after the first few weeks, Mags was in need of some new fencing and her once neat, green lawn was mostly brown and patchy.

  In fact, considering Kiera was supposed to be a Daughter of the Earth and so have some kind of special relationship with the natural world, she appeared to be having the opposite effect. As well as killing the lawn and the vegetables, several other flowers were also sacrificed and any wildlife abandoned ship so that after a couple of weeks no birds ventured in (not even tempted by a fully laden bird table), the hedgehog that had made a home at the bottom of the garden moved out looking for greener (and safer) pastures and even the cats that occasionally sauntered in began to keep themselves at a safe distance.

  Mags didn't let Kiera feel too despondent however. She kept her busy with various tasks. Within the first couple of days, Kiera came to a sudden and shocking realisation.

  “There's no TV in the house!” She exclaimed.

  Mags looked mildly amused at her outburst as she shook her head, “I don't have time for a telly.”

  However, Mags was a walking anomaly, as Kiera later discovered a laptop tucked away in the study.

  Mags explained this by simply saying, “How else do I order my shopping?”

  This was true and Mags wasn't just referring to her weekly Tesco delivery as, although Mags did keep an herb garden (an herb garden which amazingly remained mostly intact throughout Kiera's training), she couldn't grow all of the weird and wonderful things she kept in her cupboards so these were ordered online. Most of the things in Mags's house were homemade, from soap and shampoo to air freshener and deodorant.

  One area of her teaching that Kiera did find of interest was the medicinal uses of plants and herbs. Mags was very knowledgeable and Kiera found it fascinating the idea that, in a world so quick to take pills and drugs for even the slightest of ailments, nature actually provided its own cures. Who would have thought that herbs such as rosemary and thyme could help fight colds and flu? Or that the spice nutmeg was good for stress? There was so much to learn, but it was a subject that Mags was passionate about, and one that Kiera could happily sit and listen to her talk around for hours.

  Within a couple of months Kiera felt that she was a better gardener and cook than when she arrived, but that her skills as a witch hadn't progressed much. She hoped that Mags wasn't too disappointed in her. She didn't like the idea of disappointing Mags.

  Sometimes Kiera watched Mags as she shuffled purposefully around the house, cooking or cleaning or making her own floor polish from scratch and couldn't help but be impressed. The woman was in her eighties, her body was obviously failing her, yet she never complained. She was always busy and always had a smile which was a remarkable quality.

  Kiera couldn't imagine what kind of daughter would live so many miles away and not bother with her ailing mother, never so much as a phone call. It seemed heartless that Mags might spend her final years without the love of her family.

  Not that she had to worry about that now Kiera was here. Kiera realised it was as though they had both been stuck in the same piece of quicksand. Neither of them really had family and friends, they had been isolated and alone and certainly, after her father's death, Kiera had been sinking quietly beneath her own grief and self-pity. Now, however, they were pulling each other out. Mags needed Kiera to become the first true witch the world had seen in centuries and Kiera needed Mags in order to teach her, but maybe they needed each other beyond that. Kiera thought that perhaps they just simply needed each other and surprisingly, she was okay with that.

  Mags was like the aunty that Kiera had never had. She liked fussing and looking after Kiera. But it did give her the added pressure of having an adult figure in her life that she didn't want to disappoint. It was like when her dad wanted her to make the girl's football team at school and she had gone to every training session in the hope of making him proud. The difference here was that the team Mags wanted Kiera to get on was a lot weirder and technically Kiera was the only member of the said team.

  If Mags was troubled by the lack of vegetables due to Kiera's failure at witchcraft she didn't show it. She was patient and woke Kiera up every morning just before sunrise and sent her out at sunset. She never raised her voice or got exasperated with her.

  One evening Kiera was in the study trawling through some of Mags's books when a picture fell from one. It was a drawing and Kiera instantly recognised the blonde flowing hair and striking blue eyes. She had seen the woman before.

  She took the paper through to Mags who was sitting in the living room reading a book.

  “Who is this woman?” Kiera held out the drawing.

  “Why do you ask?” Mags looked at Kiera quizzically.

  “I saw her in a dream,” Kiera explained, “I was at Tintagel and I saw her…” Kiera paused “…I saw her die. She threw herself off the clifftop.”

  Mags frowned as if confused and patted the settee to signal to Kiera to sit with her.

  “The woman's name was Bersaba. She was the last of the witches. This was drawn by her Gwithiaz, Kitto, upon my request.”

  Now Kiera was confused, “How can her Gwithiaz be alive and drawing you pictures?”

  “We aren't entirely sure,” Mags replied truthfully with a smile, “Kitto was the last of the Gwithiaz. After Bersaba died he made it his mission to track down and kill the last of the Creatures and then he lived out his remaining time in solitude. He died some years later from natural illness. I can't tell you how he is here with us now because not even he knows but we do know why. He's been training your Gwithiaz ready for your return.”

  Kiera nodded slowly although it all seemed a bit nuts if she was honest.

  “Why did she jump from the cliff?” The image on the clifftop haunted her. She saw again the sadness in the woman's eyes and her night dress billowing out as she plummeted to her death. She stared down at the drawing and felt as though the woman, Bersaba, was staring back up
at her beseechingly.

  “She didn't,” Mags said watching Kiera closely, “we know from Kitto that she was killed by a Creature.”

  “Oh,” Kiera let Mags take the picture from her and they both sat and looked at it together quietly for a moment, “I wonder why I saw the image of her jumping from a cliff.”

  “You must be confused,” Mags decided, “perhaps you saw someone else.” She handed Kiera back the picture, “You should keep it. It might seem strange but this woman who lived all those years ago is your family. She's from your coven which is the same as being blood. In those days they would draw on the strength of the coven and each witch was crucial. You may not have that luxury but you should keep the picture. Take it with you the next time you practice, perhaps you can still draw strength somehow from the coven of old.”

  Kiera nodded. She looked away from Bersaba's image but still felt as though the eyes were upon her, watching her and maybe hoping she could somehow revive their long lost family and traditions.

  Great, now there were two people she didn't want to disappoint.

  The next day she paid her usual visit to the remains of the vegetable patch. This time she carried with her the picture of Bersaba as instructed. She sighed as she sat down. Summer was ending. September had begun and soon they'd see the first signs of autumn. They had been lucky enough to enjoy a pleasant summer and the air was still warm around her.

  She listened to the soft sound of the birds that hovered on the outskirts of the garden. They appeared to be keeping a watchful eye out for any of her funny business. She placed the drawing in front of her and then she fixed her gaze intently on the dry soil.

  “Grow damn you,” she mumbled.

  She found that her eyes wandered back to Bersaba.

  “How did you learn?” She asked her aloud.

  She wondered if someone had made her sit next to some dead vegetables every day and stare at them like a crazy woman.