A Time and Place for Magic Read online

  A Time

  And

  Place For

  Magic

  Book 1

  Second edition

  by

  M. Eugene Smith

  M. Eugene Smith

  www.meugenesmith.com

  Copyright © 2020 M. Eugene Smith

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  About the cover:

  Cover art by Brett Grimes

  www.brettgrimes.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1 – The Coven

  Chapter 2 – A Snare

  Chapter 3 – The Gift

  Chapter 4 – The Way Forward

  Chapter 5 – Choices

  Chapter 6 – Into The Mists

  Chapter 7 – Dreams

  Chapter 8 – Fate

  Chapter 9 – Finding Joy

  Chapter 10 – A Fork In The String

  Chapter 11 – The Guardian

  Chapter 12 – Answers

  Chapter 13 – The Quest

  Chapter 14 – The Best Of Days

  Chapter 15 – A Forced Reunion

  Chapter 16 – The Barren Land

  Chapter 17 – The Circle Of Elders

  Chapter 18 – A Mother’s Son

  Chapter 19 – Alliances

  Chapter 20 – The Forgotten

  Chapter 21 – Death’s Door

  Chapter 22 – New Directions

  Acknowledgements

  A special thanks to Irene, Amy, Jessica and especially Jay, whose feedback proved so valuable in completing this labor of love.

  Chapter 1 – The Coven

  Long before she knew anything of casting spells, Miranda sensed magic all around her. It was there in the everyday miracles of life, something ascribed to the oddities of nature and then disregarded. She found it in the early spring when seedlings pushed up through the damp soil. In the summertime, it was the bonfire with its wild energy which drew her in; in autumn, it was the sharp crispness of the morning air that brought with it the changing leaves as they rained down around her, carried by a gentle breeze. Then it was the quiet death of winter that blanketed the sleeping pine trees with snow. Their silent forms bent to the demands of the cold and ice only to live again with the return of the warming sun melting into the streams, rivers and oceans. Like all great witches, Miranda’s magic would grow strong because of the limitless energies of nature.

  In an effort to understand herself, Miranda explored many organized religions. None of them compared to the spiritual connection she felt with the magic of the natural world. It was Jade who introduced her to the Craft and, soon after, Miranda joined her Coven. It drew pieces of her life together in a way that gave her clarity and a feeling of completeness. Through the Coven, Miranda became a member of a family that not only understood this connection but celebrated it.

  Today would be more than just a celebration of their connection to nature, however. She would beseech the world for that one thing most others took for granted, the ability to conceive a child. This night was to be the culmination of months of preparation. She pushed at another brown curl in the mirror trying to get it to hang exactly right. Her dark brown eyes stared back at her while the harsh lighting radiated down over her bathroom mirror. Her full lips glossed and shiny, were set evenly above her rounded chin and her soft cheeks spoke of the happiness to which she had become accustomed. Miranda stood up and adjusted her thin white gown, cinching the gold cord tighter around her waist. For five years she and Gordon had tried everything to conceive a child. Her eyes grew heavy as she looked into the mirror. She could see the terrible longing reflected in her own gaze. The doctor had told her she couldn’t get pregnant, a birth defect having left her barren. Still, they had spent thousands on alternative procedures but to no avail. Now she turned to her last hope... her coven.

  She tied the Tiger's Eye medallion around her neck and put on the silver pentacle earrings she saved for just such a special occasion. The sound of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts, and slowly, her moment of quiet desperation dissipated. It was replaced with a cautious optimism of what might be. Hopeful, she walked down the hallway situating her gown and looked through the beveled glass of her pine wood door to see Jade standing there. Her arms were wrapped around a large cardboard box and her wide-set, grey eyes peeked excitedly at Miranda over the top of the box. Miranda opened the door and greeted her with a broad smile, “Come in Jade, don’t just stand there looking all busy.”

  Jade’s laugh came as quickly as her witty response, “Well if you would just plan ahead on these things, we wouldn’t have a problem, now would we?”

  She shuffled through the door, reaching out to hug Miranda with one free arm while balancing the box precariously on the other. Miranda relieved Jade of the box, slipping her free arm into hers.

  “You can’t take that box. The least I can do is carry my own things,” Jade protested with a slight pout, as Miranda leaned in for a quick hug.

  “No, this is my way of saying thank you for all that you’ve done. Without you, tonight wouldn’t be possible.”

  There was a pause as the importance of the night weighed on them both. They exchanged another glance and walked arm in arm through the house and onto the back porch. They stopped briefly, breathing in the night air. Jade squeezed Miranda’s arm, and together, they walked down the little stone path that led to the concealed clearing in the woods behind the house.

  As they walked, Miranda let the silver moonlight seep into her. She felt its energy flow through, filling her with its strength and courage. Looking out over the soft moonlit landscape, Miranda embraced the familiar feeling of being at one with everything around her. The crickets were her symphony and the fireflies her guides. Everything was perfect; even the smell of the fresh cut grass drifted in the cool night air. The path ahead led them through a thicket of trees. Miranda could see the flickering of the firelight leaping and dancing as they rounded the last of the low branches. The flames reached high into the starry, evening sky. Jade's grasp became firmer, and her pace slowed until she stopped to face Miranda.

  “I know that this is the first time you and Gordon will perform the Great Rite. Instead of facing east with you, we could break with tradition and form a circle with our backs to you instead,” her gentle eyes grew soft. “I can only imagine how hard this is for Gordon, knowing how he feels.”

  Miranda nodded. The memory of her fight with Gordon from a few months ago still seemed fresh. At first, Gordon had out-right refused her. That night, the last thing he said to her was, “Why can’t you be like other women and just go to some normal church, but no...instead, my wife wants to be a witch. Don’t you see how weird this is?”

  Gordon had eventually agreed to meet with the rest of the coven, but it was Jade who finally reached him. She helped him understand how important it was to Miranda, and in the end, he agreed to consider it.

  “Jade, you got through to him... it was a real turning point. He even cleared out this area for me.” She half whispered as she gestured in front of them. “It was his own idea.”

  She giggled mischievously and kissed Miranda on the cheek. “I only got him to consider it. You did the rest. I think there is some real witch in you. I’ve never been able to bend my men like that.”

  Miranda smiled and laughed. Changing the subject, she said, “There is something special about tonight. I can feel the energy in the air... I can practically taste it!”

  Rounding the final trees, they saw that the other members
of the Coven had already arrived. Jade was late, but that was a part of her charm. Like clockwork, Miranda could count on Jade for everything, even to arrive late. Miranda had purposefully avoided the others so she could have just a few minutes alone with Jade, and now, she felt ready to face what lie ahead.

  Gordon made the others feel comfortable while they’d waited, and the empty bottle of wine was the evidence of his hospitality as were the smiles and laughter.

  The conversation carried on as they arrived. Gordon seemed to be enjoying himself, laughing and talking right along with them.

  “So, I see you saved a sip for us,” said Jade, teasing them.

  Claudia stood up appearing guilty but turned and pulled another dark green bottle from her backpack.

  “Jade, we saved the best for last. Everyone knows your weakness for dessert wine. It’s even Heaven’s Best!”

  “You’re forgiven my child”, as she held her head high in mockery and reached for a glass.

  The chatter resumed and grew in Jade’s enabling presence. Miranda observed the interaction between the three Cinnamon Stick Sisters and their adopted mother Jade, who was in reality their aunt but had raised them since they were little. Jade’s sister had left them with her one winter night just before Christmas never to return. Jade told her in confidence that their mother had decided she preferred the company of men over children.

  Claudia, Lacy and Atrea, were red haired and quiet around strangers, however with a little wine and friends, Miranda found them to be quite the opposite. They were slender and lightly freckled which had earned them the nickname Cinnamon Stick Sisters when they were young but somehow it was still fitting even as young adults. All three wore the same shamrock green gown that made it difficult to tell them apart even in the blazing fire light. While Jade was the mother that she’d never had, the triplets were the sisters she’d always wanted, and she confided in them almost as much as she did Jade.

  In stark contrast, Rachel sat quietly beside them all. She was the newest member of the group and another friend of Jade’s. She was tall and unusually strong for a woman. She had a large Roman nose but otherwise delicate features. Normally, she wore her long brown hair up or held at the base of her neck, but tonight, it was loose, hanging elegantly down her back, complimenting her sheer-white ceremonial robe.

  After a time of sipping wine and talking about their week, it was Jade that finally broke up the conversation and herded everyone to their places. The ceremony was about to begin.

  Jade’s eyes grew strong and focused. She held everyone’s attention as she called on the mother to keep watch over them, hailing the watchtowers, and casting a sacred circle around them. She held her arms high with the athame in her right hand. The steel blade reflected the firelight as if it glowed from within. It wasn’t just the full moon or the roar of the flames; there was something otherworldly around them.

  “The circle is cast; we are between worlds in a place that is not a place and a time that is not a time. Let us suspend disbelief and consider the possible, explore the probable, and question the truth! So mote it be.” Jade’s arms came to rest at her side along with the athame. Her dark robes were cinched tightly to her waist which made her seem taller and more intimidating in the fire light.

  “So mote it be,” was the resounding response from the group.

  Then Jade set her blade upon the wooden altar and started to clap urging the others to join. The coven began to clap and sing. The words came timidly to Miranda’s lips at first, but the rhythm of the song brought her to her feet and soon she found herself dancing along with the rest of the group to the crackle of the flames.

  As their dance grew more intense, the sounds began to blur to the beat of the drum. Miranda caught a glimpse of Rachel across the roaring fire. She was dancing just as fiercely as the others, her elegant hair now wild and flouncing with the rhythm of her movements. Jade too, seemed to have given herself over to the feral feeling of the dance in the light of the untamed fire. Just ahead of her she watched the triplets swaying and twirling with tipsy abandon. Then Gordon’s hands clasped at Miranda’s waist. She hesitated for a moment but continued seething with the energy of the full moon, keeping to the beat of the bouncing shadows cast by the firelight.

  Eventually their dance began to slow, and she sensed a kind of primal need in those strong hands clinging to her waist. Something which excited her in a way she hadn’t felt since they were first together. Miranda turned ever so slightly in her movements to catch glimpses of Gordon. His wide, straight forehead sloped ruggedly into his azure blue eyes and a strong, broad nose. His eyebrows were naturally perfect and confined, which framed his eyes. He was broad from head to toe, and when he hugged her, she felt completely enfolded by him, like being wrapped in a blanket. Tonight, he seemed carefree, nothing contrived or held back like she was accustomed. He caught her glimpses and squeezed her sides gently. His grasp sent shivers up her spine tingling with anticipation, his every move an insinuation.

  As they all rested and caught their breath, Jade once again took to organizing the next ritual which would lead to the culmination of the night's events. Miranda rested her head against Gordon’s strong arm, and he wove it around her hip pulling her close. The sisters whispered and giggled while Rachel remained aloof, observing the entire group.

  Miranda stared into the fire at the center of their circle, watching as the flames leapt up at the night sky. She let her gaze be drawn in and relaxed leaning into Gordon. She grew mesmerized by the flames. For a moment, she saw in her mind the face of a woman. Her features were foreign and yet beautiful. She had deep set crystal blue eyes with a face of porcelain smooth skin, delicate lips and ears like those of an elf from a fairy tale. Her hair grew in light silver and gold strands which cascaded down her back like a horse's mane. Miranda had the immediate impression of a woman with no fear, only determination, power and, above all, wisdom unlike anything she had ever imagined. In another blink of her eyes, the face and feelings were gone. Then Jade stood and started to speak signaling the transition to their next ritual.

  Chapter 2 – A Snare

  The Elven Queen Raspiria paused, letting her thoughts coalesce. She hadn’t expected to be seen. That truly was of some significance, but her time to dwell on its meaning was limited. She moved away from the tiny fire she had built in the crumbling hearth. It wasn’t doing much to keep the chill of the night air away. The attendants she’d brought with her tended to her preparations. Already, the air was buzzing with the effects of the herbs burning in small ancient stone canisters built for such sacred magic. Their bitter smell mixed with the sweet sage to make an aroma that was both familiar and new.

  It was on this night that she would again conceive and for the last time produce an heir. By doing so, she hoped to ensure this child’s survival and her peoples. She had set her plan in motion moments before Miranda had glimpsed her through the fire. Already, the summoning of her consort, Thrall, was leading him to her. She could feel the effects of the spell as the blood pumped carnivorously through her veins, responding to Thrall’s growing urges. She could feel him moving like a sound through the trees, fearlessly bounding over rocks, bushes and up the stone covered hillside towards the abandoned city of Vorn. She stood once again at the altar of the mother goddess Akril, awaiting him and their consummation.

  Raspiria could sense his thoughts underneath the urgency of his body. She knew his confusion over the controlling need, his complete, undying love and devotion to the one he sought. His thoughts were like bubbles being carried along with the current of the river, but there was nothing that could change their course.

  He was close now, and Raspiria stood at the precipice of the famed temple steps looking down upon what was left of the once great Elven city of Vorn. The smell of earth and the wildness of the forest had already taken hold. The city walls were now overgrown, and most of the buildings and temples lay in ruins. It pained her to look at it. She had put herself and the others in great danger
coming here. They were exposed, out in the open, unprotected by the magic of the last remaining ancient forest. The Dark Lord would discover them but when he did, it would be too late.

  She backed away from the ledge pulling herself into the darkening shadows of the stone lattice. It was still intact high above the atrium where most of Akril’s statue still reached out with her hands spread in invitation. The face of the atrium had always been open to the air where the masses could come to look over the city and pay homage to Akril. The simple stone altar at the feet of the great Goddess was a focal point at the center of the rotunda. The floor was inlaid with precious jewels of all shapes and sizes, arranged in such a way as to form the protective wards that guarded the temple from evil.

  Thrall vaulted up and stopped at the edge of the precipice. He halted for a moment setting his sights on his target. His breathing was deep and focused; his muscles and movements were concentrated on one goal. Raspiria lied down upon the altar, her body going limp, giving herself over to that which Thrall desired. His pointed Elven ears were red with adrenalin and the perspiration of his forehead followed small lines down his slender face. His hair was pulled back, the silver strands held fast by a single knot. His clothes were minimal now like the rest of their kind. With the exception of his face, small patches of mossy skin that grew rough, like multi-colored bark, camouflaged him. Though at first glance, it might seem odd, the surface of their skin grew in circles and patterns like those found on the wings of butterflies. Thrall had grown smaller over the years, as had all of the Elves.

  He stood no taller than a young doe. Still, his sleek musculature was exquisite, and she could do little to hide her desire for him. His single loin cloth only made his need for her more obvious. His hesitation was brief, and in a single blur of movement he was atop her naked body, yanking away his cloth. She resisted nothing. The smell of his masculine scent filled her senses. The sweat dripped from his body making his grip slippery. As he began to fulfill his need, her body responded to his, nearly equal in its hunger for climax. She wrapped her arms around him in ecstasy.