Chapter 2 #4
One by one, she laid out candles in a circle, at the end of the dock, glad for the stillness of the night.
How fortuitous was it that she had a full moon overhead to make the magic stronger.
The absolute silence was a blessing as she went over the words she would recite again and again in her head until she was confident she had them exactly right.
After lighting the candles, she stood in the middle of the candles holding the bottle of potion.
At that moment, she hesitated. Too often, her potions and spells didn’t work precisely as intended. Her grandmother had told her she needed to practice more patience and attention to detail.
This time, she had been very meticulous.
She was sure of it. And what other choice did she have?
She couldn’t go to her old network for help, and she sure as hell wouldn’t go to local law enforcement.
Oh, hell no. Trapped in the parish, judged by its inhabitants and damned by her poor decisions, she couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
With this spell, she could find the lost items without going to the network of criminals. And since she was the only one involved, the repercussions of the casting would be all on her. No one else.
So be it.
Anger and determination built inside, and with it, the candles flickered brightly, their flames growing longer.
Lissette held the bottle close to her chest, leaned her head back and stared up at the blackest sky, lit by the bright white full moon, and began. Starting slow and soft, her anger and frustration increasing the volume and passion.
“By the light of the moon
These words I cast
To find what's lost
From now and past.
The one who casts
The mark shall bear
the one who’ll see
and cannot share.
The lights at night
Let the mark appear
As seen by one
Whose spell is clear.
With magic let the
seer be drawn
and bring the lost home
Where they belong.”
With the last word, she shook the bottle, spilling the contents into the inky blackness of the bayou.
For a long moment, Lissette held her breath.
Nothing happened.
“Have patience,” she murmured. “Give it time.” The same words her grandmother had used when instructing her in “the ways.”
A sudden breeze lifted Lissette’s hair and skirt and then whipped them around, lashing at her face and legs.
The candle flame sparked and grew higher, flailing in the wind.
As suddenly as the wind kicked up, it died.
Dead.
Calm.
The bayou appeared darker than before.
Lissette looked to the moon and found it had darkened as well. Its bright white was now a deep red.
Her heart skipped a beat and then raced as she dragged her gaze from the moon to the candles glowing around her feet.
Every flame leaned in the same direction as if pointing south.
“What the—” A stinging sensation burned against her wrist. She raised her arm, expecting to see a bee or wasp.
What she saw wasn’t a bug, but a mark.
A dark mark like a tattoo etched into her skin in the shape of a sword with the tip of an arrow.
It was done.
The spell had worked.
Now, all she had to do was wait for the stolen items to...what?
The instructions from the book weren’t completely clear as to what results to expect.
A niggle of apprehension settled low in her belly.
Had she screwed up yet another potion or spell?
Lissette shook her head. “I followed it exactly. It has to work. Again, I just need to be patient and see how it plays out.”
Satisfied she’d done all she could, she blew out the flames that were now flickering straight up and placed them with the empty potion bottle in the basket.
A glance at the sky assured her the moon wasn’t red but the bright white it had been before she’d started down the path of casting.
“Everything will be fine,” she said to herself as she walked across the wooden dock, her feet smacking softly as if treading on water.
Black bayou water oozed up through the dock planks, covering them in a thin dark layer of oily darkness.
Her pulse quickened. “That wasn’t covered in the instruction manual,” she said and sprinted the rest of the way over the dock onto the firm ground of the island.
Napoleon stood in her path, standing tall and immovable.
“Go on, you dumb bird,” Lissette waved her hand.
The cock stood, unflinching, his head tipped back as if in judgment.
“Oh, for the love of...” Lissette swung the laden basket toward the rooster’s head.
The beast squawked and flew into the shadows.
“Roosters are harbingers of disaster,” Lissette said as she continued toward the cottage. She repeated her statement again and again, like a mantra.
Once inside, the items of her incantation stored back where they belonged, she retreated to her bedroom, stripped, pulled a robe over her naked body and crossed the hallway into the bathroom.
She scrubbed her body, head to toe, and twice over the mark on her wrist. It wasn’t going anywhere.
As she lay in her bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, she wondered if she’d started something that would come back to bite her.
Given her history of bad decisions and botched potions...
What was done was done.
Hopefully, it would help.
If not, how much worse could it make her life?
Well, hell.
Why had that thought popped up right as she was going to sleep?
Now, she’d never get to sleep.
Possibly ever again.