Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

Rideten, Five Year Before

Aislen parked down the street, as the on-street parking was already occupied directly outside of Stella’s house, and walked the distance. Even as she approached the hedge, she could hear voices chanting in harmony. The gardens were busy with women weaving through the rows of herbs and the rose beds taking clippings, dressed in flowing dresses and flower crowns. Aislen looked down at her black dress and felt immediately out of the place. White and the colours of nature were predominant amongst the other women.

“Ah, there you are,” Stella greeted her warmly as she stepped onto the porch. She was weaving flower crowns and garlands with two other women, one of whom she recognized as the witch who had performed the sage cleansing the night before. “This is Juniper, and you remember Daisy? This is Aislen.”

Daisy smiled and examined the basket of flower crowns. “Which one…” she murmured. “Ah, this one for you, I think. Rue to purify, lavender to calm, yarrow for love and protection, and mint for the stomach and healing.”

“A very good choice,” Stella approved, taking it from Daisy and setting it onto Aislen’s head.

“I didn’t realize that there was a dress code,” Aislen apologized.

“Wear what you like,” Juniper chuckled. “Or go sky-clad, if that takes you fancy.”

“There is no dress code,” Stella assured her, handing her a basket with a pair of gardening snips. “But, like most women who spend a lot of time together, when someone buys or makes something that someone else finds pretty, that style spreads throughout the group.”

“And Prudence is a designer,” Daisy smiled. “With a boutique nearby. We support our own.”

“Oh, okay. I will have to go have a look,” Aislen flushed as Juniper draped a flower garland around her neck. “What do I do with this?” She looked at the basket uncertainly.

“Tonight, we gather around the fire and make offerings to the spirits that guide us,” Stella told her. “Fresh herbs and flowers, fruit, wine, and honey. Take your basket into the garden and take clippings of any plant that speaks to you.”

“Trust your instincts,” Daisy added.

“There is no right or wrong offering,” Stella nodded. “But it is a way to connect yourself to the ether, and therefore make your selection according to your own heart and not what you see others gathering. As you learn the craft, you will begin to understand what each plant means and how to use it, and therefore, which part to gather to make that connection serve a purpose. But for your first night, instinct will serve you well.”

“The earth, the air, the fire, the water,” Juniper sang out, and the women in the garden responded: “We turn, we turn, we turn,” in harmony before picking up the chant, singing in harmony. Aislen felt her skin goose-flesh under the eerily beautiful song.

“Off you go,” Stella encouraged her with a smile before joining in the song.

Aislen headed dubiously into the garden as the song became another. The women around her smiled warmly without ending their song. “Plants that speak to me,” Aislen murmured. “Follow my instinct.”

She wandered without any plant speaking to her until she encountered a delicate white flowering plant that she vaguely recognized as a weed that grew near the river house. She snipped off a good collection of that, adding it to her basket, thinking of the Triquetra.

A patch of mint caught her eye, possibly because of its familiarity, and what Daisy had said about healing the stomach. Her stomach, she thought wryly, could certainly use the help.

A third plant that caught her eye looked a lot like a daisy bush but without the flowers. She took some clippings from that, and then noticed that the women were beginning to move out of the garden, around the house, towards the rear, and so she followed.

A bonfire roared in the center of a circle made of flagstone pavers onto which the women set their baskets before forming a loose circle around it on the grass. Aislen was gestured in by a smiling Daisy, and her hands taken by the women on either side, their thoughts on the spell and their own personal prayers.

Their song changed as they began to move, a step followed by a shuffle and then another step, in and then out and around again in the opposite direction. With the singing, the darkening sky, the scent of the herbs and flowers in the baskets, and the roaring fire, Aislen found herself laughing and smiling in a wild sort of euphoria.

After a couple of songs, Stella, Daisy, and Juniper moved into the flagstone circle, and cast a cup of wine into the fire before filling goblets, which were offered to the dancers. Likewise, pieces of fruit were cast into the fire before being shared around. The dance lost form, but continued, a whirling cacophony of movement and laughter, wine spilling in blood-red droplets on the grass as much as being drunk.

The scent of the fire changed as the herbs and flowers were cast upon it.

Aislen eased back out of the circle as she saw others do the same, leaving a key group of five or six still dancing, their silhouettes against the flames powerful and evoking. Aislen watched, entranced. There was a magic there, she thought, but it was not one that felt like it belonged to her.

“There you are,” Stella said, appearing out of the darkness. “How did you find it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Aislen said honestly. “But it doesn’t feel like…”

“Hmm,” Stella nodded thoughtfully. “Not all magics are the same, but that does not mean that we cannot help you, Aislen, with what you seek.”

Aislen looked at her curiously. “What do I seek?”

“Control over your ability, and guidance in life,” Stella replied with confidence. “Our techniques of meditation and our learnings will be of benefit to you, and I will make all available, should you wish to study with the coven. As for the guidance… Well, it is easier to start a life than to extinguish it.”

Aislen swallowed hard and chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes returning to the fire and the dancers. “Bianca told you.”

“She did not need to,” Stella replied. “Your tea leaves did.”

“And you think that I should have the baby?” Aislen wondered tearfully. “It’s just… It’s not so simple. I will have to give up my scholarship, go back to Havermouth. I’ll be… ridiculed and… There’s no happy marriage and home for me there… I will have to get a job, and…”

“There are other options,” Stella said softly. “If you choose to have an abortion, well, that is an option, and it is something which the coven can aid you with. A simple spell, a potion, and in the morning, you will begin to bleed, and the baby will be gone. We can do that for you tonight, should you wish for it.

“But should you choose to give birth to this child, we can also put you into contact with people who arrange adoptions, good people, and organizations with good reputations, who will ensure that the child goes to families where they will be loved,” she told her with empathy. “And should you wish to keep the child, the coven looks after its own. We will assist you, with a job, with childcare, with somewhere to stay. You do not need to make a hasty decision, Aislen. And the decision is entirely your own. Like the meadowsweet, the mint, and the mug wort that you gave to the fire tonight, there is no right and no wrong choice.”

Aislen felt a tear slip free and run down her cheek.

“There is,” Stella repeated, “no wrong choice.”