Dead Moon Awakens: A tale of Cherokee myth and Celtic magic (Mystic Gates) (3 page)

BOOK: Dead Moon Awakens: A tale of Cherokee myth and Celtic magic (Mystic Gates)
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*******

March 9

I had a nice birthday all because of Morri! She
can get anybody to do anything. Mrs. Sloan even baked the cookies and helped
her make the faery pouch. Of course, she didn’t know what the pouch was.

We snuck to the river where I had found a hawthorn
tree like the one at home. I had remembered Ma telling me that hawthorns guard
the entrance to the faery realms. We sang to the
Sidhe
, and I asked them
to help Ma find me. Then we hid the pouch in a crevice of the tree. I hope the
Sidhe
do help Ma.

We had just finished when Kelile and Lance
showed up. Morri was so mean to Kelile. But, he doesn’t seem to care. When he
called her “prissy queen” again, she called him “slave boy.” I thought he would
get mad, but he just laughed. It’s like the four of us have known each other
for a long time.

I got to talk to Lance, alone. Morri and Kelile
were fussing at each other, and Lance was standing by the hawthorn tree. I
didn’t want him to see the faery pouch, so I went over to him. His eyes are so
different, so beautiful. They change colors in the light, sometimes green,
sometimes golden-brown, sometimes both. He probably thought I was a dope. I
wish … no. Morri has a crush on him. I think he likes her too. Oh well.

I almost forgot. I remembered part of my dream
last night. I finally remembered part of a dream! It was weird though. In the
dream, Morri had a pet raven. She was talking nicely to it; but at the same time,
she was pulling a plastic bag over it. It kept cawing for help and gasping for
air. Then I woke up. I haven’t figured out what the dream means. But, at least
I remembered some of it. Am I getting my gift back? I hope so. If I do, maybe I
could use my dreams to find Ma!

*******
4

Sunday, March 10

“I don’t want to go to their stupid ol’ church.”
Morrigan shook her head and frowned.

“You have to, Morri. They’ll get mean if you
don’t.”

“I’m not supposed to have to do this.” She stared
at her arms folded across her chest.

“What?”

Morrigan shook her head again.

Aishling shrugged and left the room, heading for
Herald Home’s small, country church. She didn’t like going, either. The
preacher often glared at her. Why didn’t he like her? She had never done
anything wrong to him.

Morrigan grabbed her arm from behind. “I’m coming,
Aish. But, they’re not telling me what to believe.”

They sat behind Lance and Kelile. As always,
Aishling wished she could fade into the pew. Again and again, she shifted in
her seat, trying to get comfortable. And when Morrigan began tapping her foot,
Aishling became even more nervous. She had to sit on her hands to keep them
still. The tapping grew louder. What was Morri doing?

Lance turned around and frowned at her.

I’m not doing it,
she tried telling him
with her eyes.

Preacher Collins stopped talking. His cutting blue
eyes landed on her. Aishling squirmed under his menacing stare. Had he sprouted
three feet taller? She shivered. Now, others were looking at her.
Drat!

The preacher huffed and blew out a burst of air.
“Miss O’Brian, I will not have you disrupting the sanctity of this church. If
you cannot keep quiet, you will come up here and stand next to me.” He arched
his eyebrows, almost off his forehead.

Of course, she couldn’t say her new best friend
was doing it. “Yes sir,” she answered—her voice hoarse. She ducked her head and
lightly pinched Morrigan’s hand. “Please stop,” she whispered through barely
moving lips.

Morrigan looked straight ahead, not reacting to
the plea. Yet, to Aishling’s relief, she did stop tapping her foot.

Preacher Collins continued his sermon. His words
swirled around her mind, echoing as if she were in a barrel. It wasn’t until
she noticed him glaring at her again that she paid attention to what he was
saying.

“Satan hides in certain types of soulless people,
using them to do his evil deeds.”

Ma and I are not evil! I’m tired of you-uns acting
like we are.
That was it.

Aishling stood. “Don’t you dare say that about my
mother! Oh, I know you’re talking about me and her. She’s
not
evil! She
is the most kind and loving person in the world, far more kind and loving than
you could ever be.”

“She’ll burn in hell for all eternity if she
didn’t renounce Satan before she died. Do you want God to damn your soul, too?”

“My mother is
not
dead! And she wouldn’t be
burning in hell if she was. The Creator does
not
damn souls. The Creator
creates
them!” She hyperventilated.

Slobber shot out of Preacher Collins mouth as he
howled, “Leave this holy place. Don’t come back until you’ve purged your evil
ways and you’re ready to repent for your sins.”

Close to exploding from her one year, four months
and now ten days worth of hurt and anger, she pushed out to the aisle. Turning
toward the preacher again, she blurted, “You have no right to judge me or my
mother. Remember? Jesus said, ‘Judge not—’ ”

“Leave!”

The congregation sat silent as death. Her
shoulders hunched over from the weight of all the eyes following her out the
door.

Though her heart pounded and she was out of
breath, she barreled back to her room.

After she dug her backpack out of the closet, she
gathered her clothes, slinging them on the bed. Preacher Collins had delivered
the final blow. She would go home. She
would
find Ma!

So entangled with her thoughts, she flinched when
Morrigan entered the room, snickering.

“I’ll say you’re a wild horse. You were
spectacular! The preacher was so upset, he dismissed us early.”

Morrigan gasped. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving. I’m going home.”

Return to Beginning

5

“W
ait!”
Morrigan said.

“They act like Ma and I are evil.” Aishling
crammed her backpack with clothes. “I’m not taking it anymore. They’ve been
that way ever since I got here. They won’t tell me where Ma is. They say she’s
dead, but she can’t be. I know there’s something they’re not telling me. They
won’t listen to me. They won’t even give back the
amulet
Ma made for me,
or the other things I brought here.” Tears soaked her blouse. “I’ve got to find
her. I have to go, Morri.”

“No. Not yet. And, they won’t let you just walk
out of here. We need to—”

Kelile cackled as he burst into the room. “Whoa,
you got balls, girl!”

Morrigan lunged at him and pushed him toward the
door. “You interrupted our conversation. Leave. Now.”

He flipped away from her. “Don’t you be touchin’
me or tellin’ me what to do. You ain’t my mama, prissy queen.”

“Oh. But. I. Will. Slave boy.”

“You-uns stop.” Aishling dropped to her bed,
covering her eyes.

“See what you’ve done. Now, leave.”

Aishling lowered her hands. “It’s okay.
He
didn’t do anything.”

“What’s going on?” Lance stood in the doorway. He
walked over to Aishling and sat next to her. The closeness of his body made her
tingle. Her tight muscles relaxed. “Hey, I know you’re mad, but you need to
calm down.” He lightly touched her shoulder. “You didn’t do yourself any favors
by yelling at the preacher.”

She wiped her eyes and sighed.

Morrigan pointed at Kelile. “I was trying to calm
her down when he barged in. I appreciate your help, Lance, but would you all
let Aish and I talk. Thank you.”

Kelile brushed past Morrigan and stood over
Aishling. He tapped her left hand with his fingertips while eyeing her backpack
and scattered clothing. “Girl, don’t you be doin’ anything stupid.” Then, he
whispered, “We’ll talk later. Okay?”

She nodded.

“Kelile’s right,” Lance said, standing. “You have
to figure out how to get along here.” He lowered his head and looked at the
floor. “This is our reality now.” When he looked at Aishling again, his
grief-stricken eyes made her heart ache. He followed Kelile out the bedroom
door.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Morrigan sat next to her. “You can’t leave yet.
What would you do or where would you go? You have to plan.” She thrust backwards
on the bed. “You need to apologize to the preacher and get back in good
standing.”

Aishling shook her head and opened her mouth to
argue.

“Don’t say anything until I finish. Didn’t you say
you wanted to get your amulet back? I’d definitely want to if it were mine. Is
it made of stones?” Aishling nodded. “Do you remember what stones are in it and
what they’re for? What about your mother’s
grimoire
? Do they have that? What
other books or stones do they have?”

Distracted by Morrigan’s questions, she placed her
hands on the side of the bed and blew through her lips. “I don’t remember what
the amulet looks like anymore. All I remember is when they brought me here they
cut my hair—” Aishling scowled at the doorway “—then they took all my things
including the amulet and put them in a box. I don’t even know where the box
is.”

“Those things might have clues about what happened
to your mother. We need to get them back before we leave.”

Aishling hopped off the bed. “You’ll go with me?”

Morrigan sat up. “Yes. But not until we get your
amulet and other things. You should go apologize to the preacher before he
calls you into his office. It would look better. Tell him you started your
monthly cycle in church. That it’s your first time … and you didn’t know what
was happening. Yes, that’s good. You can say that’s why you lost it and acted
the way you did. Ask him to forgive you. Tell him you’re ready to repent. Don’t
shake your head, Aish. He could have you sent somewhere else. You don’t want
that, do you? We wouldn’t be together anymore. You’re my best friend.”

“But that’s lying.”

“He needs to think you’re really sorry. You should
cry when you talk to him.” Morrigan stood and picked up some of Aishling’s
clothes.

“I can’t—”

“Come on. Let’s put these things up quickly so you
can go.”

After hanging one of her shirts in the closet, she
said, “Morri, Ma says if you lie, sooner or later the lie will come back and
slap you in the face, and you’re lucky if it’s sooner. Anyway, if I lie, then
I’ll be lied to three times.”

Morrigan continued putting Aishling’s clothes
away. “Hurry up, before he comes looking for you.”

*******

March 10

I lied today. I had to.

The preacher’s face turned so red. I almost
laughed. But, I did what Morri had said and begged him to forgive me. I even cried
a little. He took me to Mrs. Sloan for a “girl’s” talk, and I had to tell more
lies. For punishment, I have kitchen duty until the end of April. Drat!

But, one good thing happened out of all this. I
asked Mrs. Sloan to talk to Mrs. Dawes and tell her I needed time to sort all
this girl stuff out before meeting that new couple. She called Mrs. Dawes at
home and talked her in to giving me two more weeks! Isn’t there a time when lying
is okay?

Oh, I forgot with everything that’s happened
today. I had another dream about Morri last night. First, I was watching her
write in her diary here in our room. Then, I was standing in a strange house. I
walked into the living room and saw a woman reading a diary. I couldn’t make
out her face, or I don’t remember it. In the dream, I knew the diary she was
reading was Morri’s diary.

What’s weird though is that the woman was reading
Morri’s diary there
at the same time
Morri was writing in it here. What
does that mean? Are you telling me you can read my diary, Ma? That you know
what I’m writing? Well, if you are, and you’re mad at me for lying, come get me
and teach me a lesson!

*******
6

Monday, March 11

Aishling looked up from her desk. “Good morning.”

Morrigan stretched. “Good morning.” She hopped out
of bed and dressed.

“Have you been writing in your diary all night?”

“No.” Aishling giggled. “I got up early to write
about this dream I had last night. I didn’t want to forget any of it.”

Morrigan combed her hair. “What was it about?”

Aishling glanced at her clock and jumped up. “We
have to get breakfast. We can’t be late for school. I’ll tell you later.”

“Oh—” Morrigan stretched again “—I don’t want to
go to their ol’ school.”

“You know you have to. Come on.” She grabbed
Morrigan’s hands and pulled her toward the door.

When they reached the dining room and Aishling sat
at the table next to Kelile, he whispered, “What happened after Lance and I
left yesterday?”

“I apologized to Preacher Collins, and now I have
kitchen duty until May.”

“Way to go, girl.” He chuckled.

 

That afternoon after classes, Kelile caught up
with her on her way back to Weaver House. Nudging her on her right arm, he
said, “Hey, let’s talk about gettin’ outta here.”

“What?” Aishling stopped walking. “I thought you
told me yesterday not to do anything stupid.”

“I didn’t mean running away was stupid. I just
want ya to be smart about it and not get caught.” They walked in silence a
moment. “I think we can help each other get away from here.”

“Aish,” Morrigan called, jogging up to them.
“Slave boy.” She rolled her eyes.

“Prissy queen.”

Morrigan tugged Aishling away from him and
whispered, “Let’s put our backpacks up and go to the swings. I want to hear
about your dream last night. Come on, hurry.” She ran ahead.

Aishling waved goodbye to him. “I’ll talk to you
later.”

“Make it sooner, girl. We need to talk.”

When they arrived at the swings, Morrigan plopped
on hers first and pushed off. “Why do you talk to slave boy?”

“Because he’s nice and I like him.” She rocked the
swing back and forth with her toes. “Why do you treat him that way?”

“I think he’s got the wrong attitude for a black
boy. He’s not respectful of us. And … white girls don’t hang around with black
boys. You don’t want the preacher disapproving of you anymore than he already
does.”

“Morri, you’re prejudiced.”

Morrigan skidded to a halt. “Oh? Then tell me, how
many black people have you hung around with before?”

“He’s the first. But, it doesn’t matter.” She
thought a moment. “Lance is Cherokee, and you still like him.”

“That’s different.”

“Not really.” She stared at the ground a moment. “Maybe
I shouldn’t like you because my hair is red and yours is black.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.”

“Morri, I don’t think you’d like it if someone was
mean to you because you’re a witch.”

“Shh!” Morrigan looked behind them. “Don’t get all
upset, Aish. I’ll try to be decent to him if that’s what you want. But you do
need to be careful. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself anymore right
now. Oh, there’s Lance. I’ll talk to you later.” She hopped out of the swing
and ran to him.

Aishling’s cheeks tingled when he waved to her and
smiled. She watched the sunlight gleam in his chestnut hair. What would it be
like for him to look at her the way he looks at Morri?
He was so nice
yesterday
. She shoved her swing into the air and closed her eyes, working
her legs until she had the sensation of gliding.

After leaving the swings, she walked back to the
bedroom. Morrigan shuddered and dropped something when she walked in. Upon
realizing it was
her
diary Morri had dropped, she said, “What are you
doing?”

“You didn’t put it away very good. And, I wanted
to read what your dream was last night. You don’t mind, do you? Aren’t I your
best friend? Best friends tell each other everything.” She picked up the diary
and handed it to Aishling. “Why haven’t you put a shock spell or some other
kind of spell on it so no one but you can read it? I put a good spell on mine.”
She smiled.

At first, Aishling quietly stared at her diary.
Had Morri even realized what she had done? True, she was her best friend, but
to read her diary without asking permission?

“You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. It
was sticking out, and I was going to hide it behind your desk again. I dropped
it, and it fell open. Don’t be upset.”

Aishling thumbed through it. “I use an enfolding enchantment on it, blending it into wherever I hide it. That way, no one
even sees it. I must have forgotten when we rushed out this morning.”

Maybe Morri could help me.
“I’ve been
trying to figure out what my dream means.”

Morrigan bounded over and hugged her. “Good.
You’re not mad. Read it to me. We’ll figure it out together.” She plopped on
her bed and pointed for Aishling to sit on hers.

As she sat, Aishling asked, “What kind of spell do
you use on your diary?”

“You want to know?” Morrigan hopped up and got
hers from her desk drawer. She opened it to the first page and read aloud, “This
diary belongs to Morrigan Shae MacAuley, and is only for her eyes and the eyes
of her—Oh, I lost my place. It’s for my eyes only. All others—Read this warning.
Take this heed. If not yours, you may not read. Once you do begin to read, your
eyes will itch, burn, and bleed. So mote it be
.
” She grinned. “Isn’t
that cool? If anyone reads it, their eyes
will
do that.”

Aishling paused, speechless. Something about what
Morrigan had read made her feel uneasy. Was it because the spell would cause
harm? “Morri, Ma told me whatever magick you conjure always comes back to you
threefold. You know, you’ll receive three times the love or three times the
pain.” She hesitated again, reminded of something else. Unable to pull the
memory together, she continued, “Ma wouldn’t teach me any enchantments or
spells which could hurt. What about your mother? Would she have wanted you
using magick like that?”

Morrigan shrugged. “You can do magick in
self-defense, even if it does hurt someone else. If it’s in self-defense, it
won’t come back at you. Reading someone’s diary without per—Let’s don’t argue.
Come on, tell me your dream.”

Vague memories and faint warnings troubled
Aishling, but she didn’t want to argue with Morri. She pushed those thoughts
out of her mind and said, “Okay, here’s the dream. And what’s so important
about it in the first place is that I remembered
all
of it. I’m getting
my gift back.” She read:

“At first, I was walking through a forest. It was
foggy, but I found my way through and came to a large green meadow. All kinds
of pretty flowers grew in the meadow. I skipped to the flowers and picked some
of them, putting them into a heart-shaped basket. It felt like I was collecting
something precious. But then, I noticed movement out of the corner of my right
eye. I turned, and by the edge of the forest was a large raven that was—and
this is gross—eating three bodies lying in the field. I ran away as fast as I
could. In the next part, I was looking in a big mirror, holding my basket of
flowers. The flowers started fading, and I got sad. When I looked closer,
though, they weren’t really fading. They were turning into a dress of flowers.
I put the dress on. As I looked in the mirror again, the dress melted into my
skin, turning into flower paintings all over my body. Then the paintings faded.
That large raven appeared again, right next to me. It picked at my eyes. I
didn’t feel it, though. I only saw it happening in the mirror. Blood poured
down my face. Then I woke up.”

“Wow, what a dream. Were you scared?”

“No.”

“Even when you saw the raven eating your eyes?”

“No.”

“Well, we know your middle name means
raven
.”

“Maybe that’s it. I thought about it earlier, and
I understood most of my dream. But I couldn’t figure out the part about the
raven.”

“What did you think the flowers meant?”

Aishling closed her diary and laid it next to her.
She lifted her legs up on the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. “You
know the day you came here? I know, it was only three days ago, but it seems
like three months. Anyway, after leaving Mrs. Dawes’ office that day, I thought
about the time when Ma told me what a person feels like after losing pieces of
their soul.”

Morrigan shifted her hands into a timeout signal.
“What?”

“Your mother never told you about that?”

Morrigan shook her head.

“Mine did. But, that’s one of the things she does.
People come to her for help in healing different problems. Besides doing things
with herbs and teas and stuff, she also goes on spiritual journeys searching
for missing pieces of people’s souls. She brings the pieces back and helps
people become whole again.”

Morrigan stared at her wiggling feet. “Your mother
was a healer?”


Is
a healer.” Aishling frowned. “I think
the flowers were missing pieces of my soul. Because the day you came, I had
been wondering how to put my own soul back together. In the dream, that’s what
I was doing. When the flowers turned into a dress that melted into my body, I
became whole again. But, I couldn’t figure out what the raven meant until now.”

Morrigan hopped up and sat next to her. “What do
you think the raven means?”

“That I’ve been plucking my own eyes out, keeping
myself from seeing some truth.”

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