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Old Magic(37)

By:Marianne Curley


‘I didn’t really. I have no effect on the weather, though I’ve tried lots of times. It’s the light that’s generating a little heat, enough at least to take the chill out of the air.’

‘Wow,’ is all I can say. My mouth is a desert.

‘Did you bring the blood?’

This brings back my attention quickly. I reach into my shirt pocket with a bit of a smirk, remembering the embarrassing afternoon chase; and withdraw the half-filled jar, all the attendant would give me. I hope it’s enough.

‘Excellent,’ she says, relieving my fears.

‘What are you going to do with it?’

She reaches behind herself and drags round the source of the putrid smell – a small bowl with something squishy and brown and slimy inside. Carefully, she pours the goat’s blood over the top of the foul-smelling mixture and stirs it with a plastic spoon. ‘Jillian’s vision of snakes circling your body means that evil spirits surround you. You know,’ she remarks in an offhand manner, ‘you probably carry them with you all the time. Snakes are just their mortal form.’

Exactly what I want to hear.

‘The odour produced by the goat’s blood mixed with fish heart, liver and toad’s entrails is supposed to,’ she adds softly, leaning forward, ‘hopefully, get rid of them. At least long enough for our magic to work. It’s a temporary tactic; but if the spell works tonight, it might help get rid of the snakes on a more permanent basis.’

‘Really?’ is all I can manage. Vivid images of snakes circling my body suddenly make my skin crawl as if these fictitious snakes are real. I lived on this farm about six years ago that used to be a horse stud before Dad decided to try his hand at growing turf. It was twenty-two hectares of prime river flats. We saw the first snake the day we moved in. By the end of the week, we were ready to move out. They came up from the river as if they were drawn to us. Must’ve been the dry spell, the neighbours told us, that lured them to the farmhouse. We took a huge loss on that place, couldn’t sell it fast enough, especially after I woke up with three snakes in my bed, and had threatened to never sleep again. Just thinking about the memory can still spook me. That impulse to run starts thumping away inside again.

Kate finishes stirring and lays the stick down beside the bowl, which she pushes just a little out of reach, but still within the circle of flames. At least now it’s a little easier to live with. ‘Relax,’ she says softly, ‘I won’t hurt you, Jarrod.’ Her eyes, now brilliant sapphires, hold mine in a kind of promise. ‘Ever.’

I’m glad to hear it. ‘What now?’

Her words stun me. ‘I’m going to cleanse you.’

One eye narrows as I try to absorb this bit of information, recalling her request that I strip down to my jeans. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Of all evil.’

The curse, of course. Was I really thinking she meant a sponge bath? As entertaining as that would probably be in a cosy environment, the thought of it out here in the middle of the night is somehow a lot less exciting. ‘How?’ I ask quickly to hide my embarrassment.

‘With the help of the elements – earth, air, water and fire.’

Is she serious? The words sound like dialogue from a cheap-thrills horror movie. ‘You’ve been watching too much television.’

Her reply is straight to the point. ‘We don’t own one.’

‘OK, then tell me this. How are you going to get these four elements to help you? Ask them nicely?’

She stares at me with slits for eyes. She’s mad as hell and I can’t hold her stare. ‘Sorry,’ I mutter.

‘This isn’t going to work without some cooperation from you, Jarrod. Sarcasm won’t do anything except cause a block. A cleansing spell is far from easy.’

‘I said I was sorry.’

‘All right then.’ She’s still angry and I really am sorry now. I remember she’s doing this thing for me. ‘Try not to question everything, just flow with me. OK?’

I nod, contrite.

And then she says, ‘Now take off your beanie, jumper, and anything else under there.’

My nerves are jumping but I do what I’m told, laying the clothes down in a small pile by my side. Heat floods my face as I feel her gaze on me. Though far from naked, I may as well be, the way I’m feeling right now. I feel like a scrawny bag of bones. I try to look anywhere but at Kate. She’s doing something with her hands, and I recognise with an odd sensation in my gut that they’re raised in prayer. She’s speaking too, but it’s not to me. Her head is tilted backwards, and I can’t distinguish her words. After a few seconds of this she shifts into a kneeling position, grabs her scissors, taking them towards my head.