Chapter 17 #2
“This ritual doesn’t involve mating, right?” Chris’s voice came.
Shanna opened her eyes.
“Because I’m getting some vibes.” Chris pointed between the two of them.
Simon cleared his throat, and Shanna jumped away from him. “No. Only chanting and whatever else the individual wants to do, to call to the nature spirits.”
Simon gave her a nod of encouragement, and with shaky legs, Shanna stepped into one of the smaller circles. But as she looked at the other two circles, an idea sprang to mind. “Would you two like to help?”
Simon and Chris looked at each other.
“I’ll do it,” Chris said. “Witchcraft sounds neat.”
Simon gave a slight nod. “Always.”
With some confidence resurging, Shanna led each to their circle. “Does anyone know how to whistle?”
Simon let out a long whistle.
“Perfect. You’ll call to the wind. Yours is Aurai, the nymph of the breeze.”
Simon gave her a mischievous smile.
“What?”
“I’d rather have the nymph of water.”
She had no idea what he was talking about or why that sounded like a seduction line. She shook her head and turned to Chris. “You’ll be the lightning. Yours is Taranis, the god of thunder.”
“Aren’t those two from different mythologies?”
“They are,” Shanna said. “But I’m an eclectic witch. I combine multiple practices—take bits and pieces that resonate with me.”
“What will you represent?” Simon asked.
Shanna looked at the bits of the blue sky visible through the thick canopy. “The rain.”
But first, there were connections to be established. She handed a small crystal to both Simon and Chris and, with her wand, drew a connection to the crystal in the middle circle. After lighting the herbs in the bowl, she moved to her designated space and took a deep breath.
“Follow my lead,” she said to the other two. She clasped her hands, holding the crystal in front of her. “Relax, and breathe deeply. Focus on the crystal and your intentions. Clear your mind of all other thoughts.” She let hers whirl away. “Spirits of the earth, air, and water, we turn to you.”
With a bit of delay and a bit of wavering, Simon and Chris repeated the words.
“We give you our offerings, so that in turn, you grace us with yours.”
After repeating the words again, Chris went, “Can I go first?”
Shanna nodded.
“Taranis,” Chris started with great zest. She closed her eyes. “May you shake the fjords like they’ve never been shaken before. And in the wise words of AC/DC, let it so happen all night long.” She opened one eye, squinting at Shanna. “They’re Australian. Close enough?”
A bit unorthodox, but given Shanna mixed her own practices, she had nothing to complain about. She smiled at Chris. “Perfect.”
Chris gave a few short claps. “And that’s for the thunder.”
“Now you,” Shanna said to Simon.
Simon closed his eyes as well. He let out a low, almost mournful whistle, running through the forest and rustling the trees. “Aurai. May you bring forward the wind to blow away our mistakes, our masks, our misconceptions, and leave only us.”
Shanna forgot where she was standing, her focus given solely to Simon. She’d expected him to go with something businesslike, perhaps try to negotiate with the nymph. Not something so … sincere.
He whistled again, then opened one eye. “Good?”
She smiled at him, holding back the burning in her eyes. It was beautiful. Now, for her part. And who better to choose than a local?
“Tangaroa,” she began. “Take the sea you reign over, and reflect it upon the sky, as it reflects upon the waters.” She took her bottle of water, positioned a flat, round stone at her feet, and let the water drip onto it; the tip-tap of the rain hopefully soon to come.
Afterward, she took a minute more to relax and meditate, clutching the crystal; the other two wordlessly followed her. No immediate change in the skies came, but Shanna felt a warmth from her connection to the crystal and her two witchy companions.
“Now what?” Chris asked once the ritual had drawn to a close, and they packed up their accessories.
“We wait,” Shanna said. “No change is immediate.”
“Sounds like lunch to me,” Chris said.
Simon looked at Shanna, raising en eyebrow. “I could go for a hot pie.” He headed after Chris.
“Hey!” Shanna checked one last time that the forest clearing had been left as found, and ran after him. “The butter chicken one is mine!”
The sun still shone as they got their orders in the restaurant, and what was initially meant to be a quick lunch—they were all eager to get on a boat and find the waterfall—turned into a very slow lunch, as no clouds appeared in the sky.
They lazily strolled back to the harbor building, where they plopped down on a string of sofas and waited.
Chris first got a brochure to read; then Shanna, then Simon, and an hour later, they’d circled through all of them. Three times.
“Aww, we could’ve flown back on a plane if we hadn’t brought the car here,” Shanna said, perusing a brochure offering scenic plane tours.
Simon stifled a yawn and leaned on the backrest of the sofa in search of the most comfortable position. Eventually, sleepiness overcame Shanna, too, and before she knew it, she was lying in his lap.
“Hey.” A shaking on her leg brought her back to consciousness. She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep, and she had no idea how much time had passed. The shaking came from Chris, and as Shanna stirred, the girl pointed to the glass wall. “Look.”
Beyond it, the bay of Milford Sound was shrouded in mist, ominous gray clouds lumbering above as sheets of rain pelted the building.
“You did it,” Chris said. “You totally ruined all of these guys’ afternoon. Nice.”
Shanna looked at Simon, whose hair was ruffled and his shirt crinkly, but he held her in a gaze full of happiness and admiration. “Confident, capable witch.”
It was probably her drowsiness, but gods, she wanted to smother him in kisses right now.
“Now to wait for the weather to clear and the ships to sail again.” Chris held up a brochure. “Anyone want to read about kayaking for the fourth time?”
In another hour, the thundering rain slowed down to a drizzle. Simon was about to secure them a spot on a boat when Chris said, “The note told you to go behind the waterfall, right?”
“Yes.” The question sparked curiosity in Shanna—and an immediate realization of their problem. “The boats don’t go directly to the waterfalls.”
“Close enough, maybe, but it’s not like we can jump down. Or even ask them to go close to a specific waterfall for us.”
Simon sat back down. “Then what?”
Chris waved with the kayaking brochure.
Simon’s face fell.
Shanna tried to smile. “Come on. I’m sure it will be easy.”
Kayaking was the devil’s sport.
It looked easy, elegant, even, when Shanna had watched people drift along the water surface, graceful and smooth, like they were one with the sea. And for the first few minutes, she felt elegant and graceful, too.
That was before the pain in her arm muscles set in.
“Don’t veer further to the right,” Simon said, paddling in the boat next to her.
“You’re too far to the left,” she shot back. “You’re going to scrape the rocks.”
“You’re going to get run over by a boat.”
“I’m going to kill you both,” Chris said from up in front.
Shanna sighed. They’d been paddling along the fjord for an hour, and at this point, she could only hope she’d soon transcend her pain.
But at least they were given stunning views of dozens of waterfalls, painting strips of white onto the steep, forested mountains, and disappearing in the mists far above.
If only they could find the right one.
She brought out the photo, protected from the drizzle with plastic wrap. “Not that one, either.”
An hour more passed, with them doing short stops along the way to take in the views and stretch their arms. Some waterfalls were short, running from the cliff straight into the sea; others draped for hundreds of yards down the mountainside, like scratches on its surface.
Shanna did indeed forget about the pain at some point, and shifted into an automatic mode, where she managed to steadily paddle onwards.
The job still wasn’t easy, with her and Simon having to stay so close.
“Hey.” He paddled next to her as they stopped for another break. “You’re doing okay?”
“We should’ve done a spell for strength, too,” she joked.
He smiled at her, then gazed further up the fjord. “I might be annoyed now, but I think I’ll miss it later.”
“Me, too.”
He nudged his boat closer still, until it bonked hers. She giggled and bonked him back. She was going to miss all of it—him, as well.
A sharp whistle interrupted their game. Chris had stopped further ahead, and was staring at them with the stern expression of a schoolteacher. “Hey, is this your waterfall?”
Shanna grabbed her paddle and, with renewed zeal, paddled down past a pointy rock blocking her view of the small bay beyond.
She lifted her photo to check against the waterfall that had revealed itself.
The waters were grayer, but the perfectly white, thin stream dropping from the cliff was the same.
The hand with the photo dropped into her lap as she stared at the waterfall, as if enchanted by the long stream and the mist of droplets, converging at the bottom. They found it.
They found their last stop.