Chapter Fifteen #2
Without slowing down or even taking my eyes off my task, I say, “Can’t say that I did. It’s not exactly as if anyone handed me a guide or pamphlet on all things Pumpkinridge.”
She doesn’t say anything or continue what she was saying. I glance up to find her glaring at me.
“Did you even look in your welcome basket?”
Shit. “Uh, would I be in less trouble if I said I’ve been so distracted by your beauty that I haven’t even thought about it?”
She just blinks at me. Her mouth forms a tight straight line with one hand on her hips.
“Noted, yeah, no, I haven’t looked in the basket. I just thought it was things from the shops and coupons.”
She shakes her head. “It is that, but there is an actual pamphlet inside that goes over traditions, species, and events in our town. There is even a section, a very brief section, over our town history. I would know since my sister painstakingly forced me to sit through all her edits of the damn thing.”
“So you are saying that it’s even worse that I didn’t read it?” She keeps staring at me, as if I’d asked the dumbest question. “Right, okay I will read it tonight. I swear.”
“Good. But yes, there is a section in there that goes over our events that surround each of the major holidays. For example, Samhain isn’t just a fall festival with pumpkins and ghost stories. Sure, we do those things, but that’s more for the kids. For the witches, we will do a veilwalk at dusk.”
My eyebrows quirk, barely wanting to move for fear she will stop talking and opening up to me. I feel the hair along my arms rising, sensing the shift between us. That feeling of anticipation on a ride, when you know the big plummet is coming.
“It’s where we walk the boundary of the Whispering Pines, lighting spirit lanterns and whispering the names of our ancestors as we thin the veil between the living in the dead.
Something that naturally occurs that night, we just assist it to aid our loved ones’ journey by calling their names across. ”
“Interesting, I’ve been wondering how there are ghosts here, but I never recall seeing them in Jasper.”
She walks to the cauldron with a glass jar full of something green and leafy. She pops the lid open and drops a few sprigs into the bubbling dull gray liquid I’ve been stirring.
“It’s not that you don’t have them in your town; it’s more likely that the veil is thick enough that you just aren’t able to see them.
In Pumpkinridge, our veil is intentionally thin so our ancestors can visit more regularly.
Although during Samhain, it is nonexistent in comparison.
It has to exist to a degree otherwise we wouldn’t be able to seal it again.
You don’t want spirits to roam freely without restrictions. ”
“So, you are saying that for my entire life I’ve had ancestors floating around and watching everything…”
She smirks. “Something you don’t want an ancestor to see?”
My cheeks warm as the blush spreads. “There’s been a few moments…that I hope nobody witnessed.”
“I have to know,” she prods.
I roll my lips in, pressing my teeth down on them.
“Fine, keep your secrets,” she says as she places the jar down, grabbing another jar full of what looks like roses. “As for your question, yes, most likely.”
“Ah, good. Yeah…alright, what else do the witches do?”
She drops a bunch of dried rosebuds into the cauldron, the liquid hissing as each one hits it.
“We also have an ancestral circle where they cast a shared spell honoring our lost witches. I’ve never taken part, but Elora says that it’s a long, beautiful thing.
Something I have no intention of experiencing. ”
I open my mouth to ask, but she sharply shakes her head. Noted. One day I’ll have her tell me about it, but it’s not today.
“You know you should talk with Adren about the wolf traditions because there are a few that they do during the festival too.”
“Oh, I guess I should probably do that. I’ve got to check in with him now that I’m officially the unofficial puppy wrangler.” His shoulders droop, a sadness washing over his face.
“Don’t sound disappointed, Dog Boy; you will love it. It’s a run and roar thing. I don’t know a lot about it since, obviously, I haven’t taken part in that either. But I always hear the wolves bragging about it when they get home. Why do you look disappointed in your pack role?”
“Yeah,” I say, staring down into the gray liquid. It’s not that I’m not looking forward to spending time with other wolves, or even taking part in their traditions. It’s just that…I want to spend my time with Bellamy, watching her work. I would rather be wherever she is.
“I’m not, I just thought I would get something more along Sentinel or Hunter.
But apparently chasing after the young pups is more fitting.
” I don’t want to talk about how even in the Rocky Mountain Pack I didn’t have what I would consider a noble role.
I was actually being trained to be a healer, which isn’t what most male wolves are slotted in.
My parents never shunned me for it or made me feel less than, but the other male wolves?
Yeah, they made jokes at my expense because I had a girlie role.
“Anyways, what is this gray lumpy liquid?”
I look up at her as she stands opposite me with a glinty dagger posed over the top and her hand hovering next to it.
I should be worried about the dagger, but it's the look on her face that has my entire focus.
I might not have said aloud what was bothering me, but something in her eyes tells me she already figured it out.
She shutters as she refocuses on the task. “This,” she says with a slice of the knife across her palm, “is what seals the veil again for the new year. Without this lock, any spirit, good or evil, could roam the world with no consequence.”
I gasp, droplets of her blood hitting the liquid, steam rising and sparks bouncing along the walls of the cauldron.
“What are you doing?” I whisper in awe.
“Adding the final ingredient, and the reason it has to be me. Blood of a witch, given freely, in honor of the power our ancestors give to the veil protecting our community from the outside world.”
“Why does it have to be you?” I continue to whisper, watching as the dull gray color slowly transforms into a glittering, pearly liquid. Sparks pop along the top as I continue to swirl it.
She wraps her hand in a bandage. “Because Dog Boy, I’m the only one willing to dabble in the dark, to dance in the shadows, and revel in all things that are forbidden. Does that bother you?”
She hooks her eyebrow up, waiting for me to say it’s too much.
That she’s too much. But, that’s the farthest thing from my mind right now.
What I’m seeing is a woman who carries the heaviest load with nobody in her corner.
She may be someone who does the things she mentioned, but why do people fear her instead of praising her?
“You are an amazing woman, Bellamy. The people in this town should respect you and praise you. You are the reason they can live freely and without fear of the outside world. Instead of talking about you while you walk down the street, they should be singing their adoration.”
She humphs before turning around and grabbing the herbs and things she pulled out for this spell.
I watch as she moves with an ease that only comes from someone in their space and comfort zone.
She places each jar back in its rightful place, not saying another word.
I continue to stir the mixture, quietly waiting for her to come back to me.
After a few moments of silence, she finally comes back to the cauldron. She looks down into the liquid that looks like she plucked stars from the sky and mixed them into it.
“You can stop stirring now,” she breathes, the glitter of the liquid reflecting in her eyes.
Bringing the mixture to a stop, I lay the wooden spoon down on the table.
“Now what?”
“Now, you go home or wherever you are going that isn’t staying here.”
I hesitate, waiting to see if she will change her mind. But she doesn’t give me the option, turning around, and walking into the back of the shop.
Checking the time on my phone, I realize I’ve only got time to walk around town before meeting up with Clarissa. Maybe I can chat with Adren about these traditions that Bellamy mentioned.