Old Magic(38)

‘Hey, wait a minute. What are you planning with those?’

Her voice is amazingly calm, if anything, kind of flat, as if she’s entered a trance. ‘I need your hair.’

‘Hair!’ I lift up on my haunches, ready to run somewhere, anywhere, quickly. This little charade is going too far.

But she’s smiling at me gently. ‘Not all your hair, just a few strands, that’s all.’

She snips quickly, in case I change my mind, then wraps a length of blue cord around the little bundle. ‘This might smell a bit.’ She holds the bundle over a candle on her left and starts reciting again, this time a rhyming chant.

Personally I don’t think anything can smell worse than the goat’s blood concoction. The wrapped hair sizzles as it curls up and disintegrates in the yellow flame. When it’s all gone I look up at Kate. She seems ethereal in the way her still vivid blue eyes reflect the candle flames, a soft breeze gently tugging and playing with wisps of her long black hair. Right now Kate actually does look like a witch even with those light, unusually-shaped eyes; all that is missing is the legendary broomstick.

Her eyes lift to mine. ‘You’re not going to like this next part,’ she says softly.

My pulse takes a flying leap.

With the goblet she scoops up some moist dark earth. ‘Breathe slowly and deeply from way down in here.’ Her hand touches my stomach just above my navel. It’s firm, yet soft and comfortably warm; and it takes all my concentration to do what she asks this time. Her hand, her eerily flat voice and glazed eyes, are doing strange things to my level of concentration. I try hard not to let my emotions show as Kate is good at sensing moods and feelings. Eventually I get the hang of breathing deeply from my abdomen. She allows her hand to move up and down with my breaths a few times before she raises it and slowly tips the cup of moist earth over my head. Using a circular motion she then starts rubbing the dirt into my scalp, forehead and chest with her fingers. As she does this, she repeats that same rhyming chant.

My eyes close in a feeble attempt at self-protection as dust and tiny gravelly bits of rotted leaves and stuff try forcing their way into my eyes and mouth. I wish now I’d remembered my glasses.

When I open my eyes Kate is smiling. ‘You’re doing really well.’

I nod but the motion causes more dirt and grit to fall out of my hair. ‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?’

She laughs a little, and I’m glad to see the glaze that shrouded her eyes a few minutes ago has disappeared. She looks normal again. Well, as normal as Kate is going to get I guess. ‘There’s just one thing left,’ she says, and reaches out to the creek, giving her fingers a quick clean. Then, with both hands cupped, she scoops up a handful of water and holds it dripping a bit towards my face.

She doesn’t need to say anything, I know she means for me to drink, but the thought alone of sipping water out of her cupped hands does strange things to my anatomy. The gesture crosses some sort of invisible line. That line known as intimacy.

She nods at the water trapped in her hands. ‘C’mon, what are you waiting for?’

I watch as drips seep through tiny wedges of space between her fingers. Trying hard not to let any of my feelings show, I lean forward and start drinking. I don’t dare look at her as she would know instantly how she has affected me. When there is none left I drag in a long hard breath and sit back on to my heels. I glance up and see Kate’s mouth moving with whisper-soft words, her body gently swaying backwards and forwards. Shivers ride over me in waves as a strange heat suddenly fills me from feet to head. In an instant it passes, leaving me breathless.

Kate sighs softly, then smiles. ‘Feel all right?’

‘A little strange, but it’s passing.’

‘Good. We’re done.’ Briskly, she starts tidying up, collecting her scissors and other bits and pieces into her treasure chest. ‘We have to leave the circle as we entered,’ she says. We do this and Kate puts out the candles. With the plastic cup, she makes a shallow grave, burying the stinking concoction of goat’s blood, fish heart, liver and toad’s entrails. ‘You can get dressed now, it’ll quickly turn cold.’

As she says this the glow surrounding us becomes less and less until it disappears completely. The cowardly moon finally makes an appearance now that it’s all over. I catch a glimpse of it through the forest canopy, the little light it’s giving helps me locate exactly where I put my clothes. The air becomes chillier and after giving my head a quick shake and brushing dirt off my face and chest, I throw on my clothes, beanie included. ‘So that’s it?’ I ask, climbing to my feet, still wiping dirt off my forehead.