The Witch is Dead (9 page)

After seating myself in the center, I lit the candle. The wick caught, making the flame dance. Holding the amethyst in my left hand, I placed the ulexite against the center of my forehead. My eyelids drifted shut and I concentrated on feeling the energy from deep within the Earth. Slowly, I let the force surround me as I imagined sitting in a circle of light. I framed my question carefully.

“How can I protect Tink?”

Placing the two crystals on either side of the candle, I picked up the worn leather pouch containing Annie’s runes. I opened the bag, slipped my right hand inside and let my fingers play over the round stones. When one felt warm, I removed it and set it gently on the linen square in front of me. Soon three runes lay gleaming on the white cloth.

The Norns—the Three Sisters. Past, Present, and Future.

I ignored my trembling fingers as I flipped over the first rune.

Berkano.“Bear-kawn-oh,” I whispered. It was reversed—the rune that resembled a B was facing left instead of to the right. Not good. Berkano was the rune for birth, family, children—that which the heart holds dear. Reversed indicated
problems in those areas. Strife and stress. A permanent split.

Okay, that made sense. In the past, while living with Juliet and Jason, her aunt and uncle, Tink’s life had been a mess. Juliet had been bent on using the child’s gift for her own evil purpose. We had thwarted her efforts, and as a result, Tink came to live with me. Juliet was no longer a part of Tink’s life.

I turned over the next rune—the Present.

Kenaz.“Kane-awze.” Again I said the name aloud.

Dang. The sideways V faced the left, too. Another rune reversed. Kenaz represented the warm fire of the hearth and new beginnings. Facing in the opposite direction, it indicated an ending fraught with anxiety. Did it mean an ending to Tink’s connection with the Finches?

Maybe the last rune would shed light on what Berkano and Kenaz meant.

The rune indicating the Future stared up at me, and I felt my heart thud.

Isa.“Ee-saw.” I choked on the word. That rune was a simple straight line and had no reverse. But just because the rune had no opposite meaning, it wasn’t a positive sign. It stood for “ice.” A freeze on all activities. No movement forward or backward. Whatever the heart held dear would be locked away in a block of ice until the Wheel of Fortune decided to turn.

I tugged on my bottom lip as I stared at the runes before me. How in the hell did these three glyphs answer my question? They were all negative. All indicated some kind of separation relating to home and family. A loss that would be full of frustrations.

Did Kenaz mean Tink would be lost to the Finches because I adopted her? Given the way the legal system worked,
an adoption was bound to be full of delays, as indicated by Isa. And I would experience anxiety, another element shown by Kenaz, until the whole process was finished. Frustration? Well, if Juliet were sane enough to realize what was going on, losing Tink would certainly vex her. All in all, bad news for the Finches—good news for me.

My apprehension lightened.

Wait a second—my question hadn’t been about the adoption. It had been: How can I protect her?

I felt dread come crashing down as the answer stared up at me.

Strife, stress, and loss relating to the family. And in the end, any efforts to prevent them would be frozen. I wouldn’t be able to protect Tink. Whatever the Fates had planned, the course was set, and I was powerless to change it.

The next morning, I stood staring out the window over the kitchen sink as I finished my bowl of cereal. I’d tossed and turned all night while my brain searched for another interpretation of the runes. I didn’t like what they told me. There had to be a way to keep Tink safe, and I wouldn’t quit searching until I’d found it. I had no intention of letting a little thing like Fate stop me.

I turned as Tink walked into the kitchen. She was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, as if she were ready to spend the day working at the greenhouse, but her eyes were shadowed.

“Feeling okay?” I tried to keep my tone light.

She lifted a shoulder. “Yeah. I guess,” she replied after getting a bowl out of the cupboard and pouring cereal. She picked up one of the puffed balls and popped it in her mouth.

“Don’t you want milk on that?” I asked, opening the door to the fridge and handing her the jug.

“Whatever.”

“Wait a second.” I took her arm and pulled her toward me. Laying a hand on her forehead, I studied her face. “Are you sick?”

She shrugged me off and walked over to the table. “I dreamed about Walks Quietly last night.”

We’d met Walks Quietly, a Native American shaman, at the same time we’d had our run-in with the Finches. He’d been Tink’s protector and friend. I never did quite figure out exactly what kind of gift he possessed, but whatever it was, it was powerful. Dang, why hadn’t I thought of calling him for advice? It would be difficult to reach him—he didn’t have a phone in his cabin. But I could call the sheriff and ask him to contact Walks Quietly for me. I filed the idea away in my memory banks.

“Really?” I said, following her. “You haven’t dreamed about him for a long time, have you?”

Sitting at the table, she poured the milk over her cereal. “No.” She took a spoonful and chewed it thoughtfully. “In the dream, we were in the woods. Walks Quietly was ahead of me, and I was running after him.” Staring off into space, she took another spoonful. “I never reached him,” she mumbled with her mouth full. “He disappeared into the woods. I was afraid to go any farther along the path…”

“Same place as in the dream with the corpses?”

She nodded without speaking. “I remember thinking in the dream that the path led to them.” Placing her spoon in the bowl, she rose and carried it to the sink. “Next thing I know, I was awake. The woods and Walks Quietly were gone,” she said, dumping the cereal down the garbage disposal.

I watched her with concern. If Tink didn’t start eating more, she’d lose weight. And she didn’t have it to lose. I needed ways to improve her appetite.

“Hey,” I said throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Isn’t the Farmer’s Market tonight?”

“Yeah, Nell’s coming to the greenhouse this afternoon to help pick sweet corn and fresh tomatoes. She’ll set up the stand with us.”

I noticed her pink shoulders. “If you’re working outside all day, you girls make sure you wear sunscreen.”

“Okay,” she answered, rolling her eyes.

A thought suddenly occurred to me. “How much does Nell know about Aunt Dot?”

Tink gave a small snort. “Don’t worry, I told her Aunt Dot was kind of eccentric.”

I guess that was one way to describe her.

“Nell thinks it’s cool. Said she wished she had someone in her family who was different.” Tink chuckled. “She said all her aunts do is crochet.”

Darci joined me after work at the Farmer’s Market, and as we strolled around before joining Abby at her stand, she peppered me with questions.

“How did you like Gertrude Duncan?” she asked.

“I think she’ll be okay,” I said, picking up a muskmelon and sniffing it. Not as good as Abby’s, I thought, setting it down and moving to the next table. “I feel kind of sorry for her. Sounds to me like the salary isn’t important to her. She sees the job as her chance to get away from her mother for a couple of afternoons a week.”

Darci tapped her chin. “Hmm, I haven’t heard anything about her mother.”

“From what Gert said, I got the impression that they haven’t lived in the area very long.”

“I’ll have to check Gert and her mother out with Georgia.”

I laughed. “It doesn’t make a difference what Georgia
thinks, Darce. I’m sure the library board will be calling her tonight and offering her the job.” I turned to Darci and gave her a questioning look. “Do you think you’ll be able to work with her?”

“I guess,” she replied in a neutral voice.

“Hey, what’s the deal? Don’t you like her?”

“I don’t know. There seemed to be something familiar about her. Like I’ve met her before.” She stepped away from me and over to the next stand.

I hurried after her. “Like what?”

“Hard to say,” she replied, shrugging off my question. “Oh well, I’m not the psychic. Maybe it was just some kind of déjà vu. I read somewhere when you have that kind of reaction to a person it means you knew them in a past life.”

I laughed. “So you think you knew Gert in a previous incarnation?”

“Maybe,” she said, grinning. “It could have happened.”

“Darci, you’ve been hanging around Abby too long!” I exclaimed with a smile.

“No more about Gert…let’s talk about something important. What are you wearing tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night?” I asked perplexed.

“Yeah, silly, the speed dating—”

“Wait a second,” I interrupted. “I told you I wasn’t going.”

“Oh sure you are,” she replied with a careless flip of her hand. “I’ve already paid the fee. And no, you don’t have to thank me—”

I stopped in my tracks and cut her off again. “I wasn’t planning on thanking you because I’m not going.”

Darci tossed her blond hair and said, “You wouldn’t want a struggling college student to waste her money, would you?”

“That’s the struggling college student’s choice. And
you’re not going to use money to guilt me into going,” I replied heatedly.

She ignored my objections as she strolled over to a table with fresh baked pies lined up in a neat row.

“Yum, these look good, don’t they?” she asked, holding one up. With a smile at Mrs. Simpson sitting behind the table, she dug a couple of dollars out of her pocket and handed them to her. Pleased with her purchase, Darci sauntered over to me.

“I don’t understand why you’re so dead set on doing this,” I commented with a frown. “I would’ve thought after what happened with Danny, the last thing you’d want right now is to get involved with someone else.”

“You mean because he lied and played me for a sucker?” she asked in a light voice.

“Well…yeah,” I replied with a tinge of sarcasm.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just because one relationship was with a louse, it doesn’t mean the next one will be. I learned from my experience with Danny that I’m okay alone, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to find someone special.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a grin. “After all, you know what they say. ‘Men are like buses, if you miss the first one, there’s always another one coming along.’”

“Ha! I’ve heard that’s what men say about women.”

“So? The same applies to men.”

I thought for a moment. “That may be fine for a woman your age, but at mine, the next ‘bus’ usually has a few parts missing.”

“Very funny,” she said over her shoulder. “You’re not that much older than I am.” She stopped and faced me. “I can tell you this—if you don’t ever step out of the nice comfortable little rut that you’re in, you’re never going to know if any
parts are missing or not, ’cause every single ‘bus’ is going to drive right by.”

“I’m not in a rut,” I said defensively.

Darci gave me a knowing glance.

“Okay, maybe a little—”

She walked up and threw an arm around my shoulder. “It’ll be a new experience for you,” she said with a shake. “We’ll have fun, even if we don’t meet anyone interesting.”

Maybe she was right. Lately it had been one thing after another—and most of it not too pleasant. Murder and mayhem were like that. Maybe if I focused on something positive, like a little fun, it would draw more positive things into my life. Help me deal with whatever situation I might be facing with Tink.

Darci sensed my hesitation and pressed home her advantage. “Seize the day, Ophelia. Step out of the rut—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it,” I said, finally giving in.

“Good,” she said with a squeeze. “I’ll come over early to help you. I’ll do your makeup and hair; I’ll pick out something for you to wear…” She paused, and I could almost see her going over my wardrobe in her mind. “On second thought, I’ll bring clothes from my closet.”

“I’m not your dress-up doll, you know,” I grumbled, stepping away from her grasp.

Darci opened her mouth to reply but was cut short by Tink and Nell tearing over to where we stood.

“That creepy guy we saw in the woods is here,” Tink said, her eyes wide.

My eyes traveled the crowd searching for him as Darci said, “What guy?”

“We were letting the dogs go for a run at Roseman State Park when this man startled us,” Tink explained excitedly.

“What was his name?” Darci asked.

“Silas—” She broke off and pointed. “There, he’s over at the table next to Abby’s.”

Darci’s eyes narrowed when she saw the man in the slouched hat buying fresh-picked green beans. Her nose wrinkled.

“You know him?” I asked, watching her expression.

“Yes,” she replied, her lips tightening. “He runs Green’s Crematorium.”

“I didn’t know there was a crematorium around here,” I said in a shocked voice.