Remember (Protectors of the Elemental Magic Book 1) Page 13

  “Cole is upstairs sleeping. I gave him the potion like we discussed,” Sara answered, “but you just missed my surprise visitor.”

  “Eliza?” Gram questioned, “What does my daughter need now?”

  “She wants me to help her with a spell for Cedric,” Sarah said.

  “What kind of spell?” Gram asked, with a disgusted look on her face.

  “She claimed it was just a simple water and fire spell to protect Cedric from harm. When I pressed her for the real reason, she insisted it was to keep what was his from being taken away. I have no idea what the spell is really for but I am not going to help her with it.”

  “Chester told me that he had heard at the club that Drygen had been fighting with Sam Heart about who owned land up north. They both had a claim to it but the Drygens wanted all of the property,” Gram said. “I wonder if the spell she wants your help with is for him.”

  A small voice from upstairs shouted, “Mom, Mommy.”

  “I will be up in a minute, Cole,” Sarah called to him, “Mae, thank you for coming and for the gifts. How's Marina doing?”

  “She is such a joy for us. My only concern is she is becoming stronger in her magic. I have told her to not tell Eliza or Elliott about anything yet,” Gram said, with a sadness in her voice. “I had made a potion for her. It looks like I will be giving it to her sooner than I had hoped. It is just getting too dangerous for her to learn more about her magic with Eliza around. How a child of mine could be so selfish? I fear I will never know the answer to that question,” Gram said, as she walked towards the entrance of the home.

  “Does Elliott know what is going on?” Sarah asked, stopping Gram as she opened the front door to leave.

  Gram stopped and shook her head, “I have no idea what Elliott knows. He always seems to be snooping around looking for something but I am not sure what he is really looking for. I guess only time will tell. I will see you later, Sarah.” Kissing her on the cheek, Gram left the house.

  While I watched my grandmother walk away from the house, Cole came downstairs. Sarah picked him up and held him in his arms.

  “Did you have a nice sleep, my love?” she asked, covered his cheeks with kisses.

  He said, “Yes, now maybe we can eat one of those cupcakes?” Their warm laughter filled the home as she tickled him.

  Chapter 29

  I woke to the sound of Cole calling my name as he gently shook me, “Wake up, Mara.” I smiled at the sight of him until I realized that he was holding the empty vial in his hand.

  He said, with a serious look on his face, “Did you drink some of this too?”

  “I did,” I said, hesitantly trying the best way to explain my decision, “I'm not sure what came over me. It just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  His face turned from dark and serious to a big grin, “I'm glad you did,” he said, with a chuckle. “Did you see everything?”

  Irritated that he had pretended to be angry, I said, “I found out you really like frosting. Or do you mean the fact that my mother really wanted nothing to do with me?”

  Instead of responding, he drew me close and kissed me. Melting into his arms, my anger subsided and I whispered in his ear, “You are not mad at me? I am sorry that I didn't ask you first. They were your memories. I had no right to them.”

  “Of course not, I am so glad that you were brave enough to follow your instincts. I just wish that I had done the same when you drank yours,” he insisted.

  Again, Cole kissed me. Letting myself fade into the moment, I kissed him back not wanting to leave the comfort of his arms. Holding me tighter to him, he ran his fingers through my hair.

  Sensible as always, Cole broke away from our moment and said, “I guess it's time to go back and face another parent. We need to find out if that is Elliott and why he is really here. Do you think he really is your father?”

  Exhaling, I gave up the feeling of being able to hide from all of the questions I had myself and admit to him what I was feeling. “I'm not sure what I think. I want to believe that he really is my father but everything is so complicated right now. Why did he show up last night? If he really is Elliott Stone, how could he stay away so long? Did he have something to do with Meg being taken? Was he there to distract us?”

  Feeling frantic, my words flew out at a rapid pace. “I am worried that the spell will not work. If he read it, he might be able to counter the spell? Maybe we should use another? I wonder if your mother has something around here. She might have a spell that will work better.”

  “Calm down, Mara,” Cole said quietly taking my hand. Leading me to the red chair, he motioned for me to sit down, “Sit here and compose yourself.”

  Walking to the cabinet, he looked through the bottles. Taking several, he shook the ingredients into a small piece of cloth. Tying it, he returned to me. “Take this and slowly inhale. You need to just breathe.”

  Doing as he instructed, I inhaled the fragrant lavender and peppermint. “How did you know how to make this?” I questioned him, “Did your mother teach you? I thought you were never here.”

  Gently, he lifted my hand that was holding the fragrant pouch and said, “Mara, stop and just take in the scents and release your worries. My mother would make these pouches when I was sick or scared. She had herbs in our pantry like Gram. Of course nothing like what she has here.”

  Allowing myself to just soak up the soothing feeling from the spicy peppermint and the familiar lavender, my mind stopped racing. After a few minutes, I was calm enough to start making sense. Standing up, I apologized. “I am not sure what that was all about. I am collected now.”

  “Good,” he said, sounding relieved, “Now we can try to find a new spell to use on Elliott. All of your questions will be answered soon. I promise.”

  As we looked through the bookcases, I began to feel worried again. We found nothing with spells. Most of the books were just stories about the Goddess and books about plants and herbs.

  “I watched my mother write in the journal when I was little,” Cole said. “I wonder if it's around here.” We continued to look through the cabinets and bookcases but it was nowhere to be found.

  “I'm not sure if we are going to find it here,” I said to Cole who was inspecting the red room.

  Cole motioned for me to come over to him. “Does this painting look familiar to you?”

  Coming closer to look, I understood what he meant, “The painting looks like the cover of the journal your mother was writing in.”

  “It does,” I said, pleased that he did not miss seeing it.

  “Let's take the picture down and see what is behind it,” Cole instructed.

  We went to the opposite sides of the painting and lifted the large picture. It was much heavier than it looked. Setting it down gently, I turned to inspect the wall. To my dismay, there was nothing to see behind the picture other than the there was a lighter colored square compared to the rest of the aged wall.

  Disappointed Cole said, “Nothing there. Let's put it back up.”

  As we lifted the canvas to rehang it, something caught my eye. “Put it back down,” I said, “There is something on the back of the painting.”

  Once the painting was back on the floor, we could clearly see a small hole in the back cover of the frame.

  “I think there is something here,” Cole said excitedly, as he carefully tore away the paper covering on the back of the painting.

  Pulling out the red journal with a smile, Cole said, “Good eyes, Mar.”

  Handing it to me, we carefully hung the painting back on the wall. Flipping through the pages, we found many spells and even one similar to the one Gram had but not one that seemed right. As we flipped the next few pages, we both stopped and carefully read the next spell.

  Labhair an Fhirinne

  ~Prepare three small white candles as follows:

  1st wick dipped in the dried petals from an agrimony flower.

  2nd wick dipped in dragon's blood resin.

&
nbsp; 3rd wick dipped in the ground spiny needles of a juniper tree.

  ~Prepare a large yellow candle with three wicks by dipping the wicks into the ground acorns of the white oak.

  ~Grind two small dried petals of the yellow rue for consumption by the one whose truth is in question. Be cautious as too much rue will reveal the truth but death will come to the one ingesting it.

  ~Drink the petals in good company and light the candles to become aware. Speak the truth is what you seek but not everything is always as it seems.

  “This might be the one,” I whispered.

  “I think so too,” he said excitedly. “We have most of these ingredients already.”

  Going to the cabinet, he found a large clear bottle labeled White Oak Acorns.

  “We have everything we need now,” Cole said. “We need to take this to Gram. She will know what is best.”

  Cole continued digging through the cabinets and added more items to the box Gram had packed. While Cole finished loading the boxes, I continued to look through the journal. When I came to a page with The Protectors written on the top, I slowed my page turning. The next page had the name Silver written in elegant calligraphic lettering. This page held the names Genevieve Silver, Mae Silver Veracor, Eliza Veracor Stone, Marina Stone and Meg Stone.

  The next page had dark lettering of the name Drygen surrounded with the names Camille Black Drygen, Blanche Drygen and Cedric Drygen with a snake drawn through his name. Underneath Cedric, there was wording that I could barely see. As I held it closer, I could make out the faint writing. It looked like Miles.

  When I turned the page, I slowly traced my finger over the name Andrews. This page was a little different. Instead of just the names of Lucy Andrews, Olivia Andrews, Sarah Andrews Sand and Cole Sands, there was a delicate portrait of each. I could see Cole's eyes came from his great grandmother. His grandmother, Olivia, looked so sad in the sketch drawn of her. When my eyes fell on Sarah, I just stared at her studying her features. Why did she have to die so young?

  Cole said, as he looked over my shoulder, “Wasn't she so beautiful.”

  “I'm sorry,” I quickly apologized handing him the book. “I should have called you over to look with me.”

  “I will have time to go through it later,” Cole said, as he handed it back to me. “Did you find anything else interesting?”

  As I flipped open the page I had been examining, I smiled holding out the open page for him to see, “You made it into the journal.”

  As I turned the page to see the next family, I was surprised to only see a blank page. “This section shows the original protectors of the magic including our great-grandmothers. I wonder why there is nothing for Michelle Elliott's family.”

  Taking the book from me and putting it in the box, Cole said, “We should go home. Gram has been alone with that man too long already.”

  Chapter 30

  When we arrived back at home, it smelled of the delicious food Gram was preparing.

  “We are back, Gram,” Cole called out as we entered the kitchen.

  We found Gram by the stove stirring a pot. As Cole snuck up with a spoon to sneak a taste, she slapped his hand lightly. “Dinner will be soon. Now, tell me everything you learned today and I might feed you,” She said, with a sly smile.

  As Gram looked through the boxes, I filled her in on the day's events including my decision to try the potion. Shaking her head, she chuckled, “Only you, Mara, would be brave enough to try something like that. Did you both see the same things?”

  “It started with my mother letting me frost cupcakes,” Cole began. “Then, she gave me the potion to drink.”

  “Then Eliza showed up insisting Sarah help Cedric and then complained about how horrible it was to be my mother,” I said, with more pain in my voice then I had intended. “After you showed up and talked with Sarah.”

  “Before that my mom wrote in her journal,” Cole interrupted, correcting me.

  “You are right.” I smirked. “Then Cole woke up and he begged for a cupcake. Cole and Sarah laughing was the last thing I saw.”

  “I must have woken you up too early,” Cole said. “After I ate the cupcake, she gave me a plastic dolphin that she said was named River. I think she did that in case any memories came back. Is that correct, Mae?”

  “That is exactly what she did,” Gram mused, as she smoothed her apron. “We did the same thing with the dolls for Mara. I didn't want to take a chance of anything that couldn't be explained other than a vivid imagination.”

  “We both are concerned that the spell that you were planning to use on Elliott might not be useful anymore since he had the cylinder,” Cole said handing her the journal opened to the truth spell. “But, we found this and we both think it will work.”

  Taking the journal, she read to herself for a minute and energetically commented, “This is it. This is exactly what we need. The other spell would have only told us if the person was not Elliott. This will tell us the truth about the man that says he is Elliott. The other spell would have only confirmed his identity. This will tell us anything he is hiding. Good instincts. Both of you have made me proud.”

  Soaking in Gram's praise, Cole looked around and asked, “Where is Elliott?”

  “He went to check on the animals. Then, I asked him to take care of some things in Chester's woodshop for me,” Gram explained. “He should be gone for a while. Why don't we gather up the supplies for this spell and prepare it to try after dinner.”

  After we gathered up the items, Cole said, “I will go find Elliott and try to keep him busy.”

  Gram stopped him and took his hand, “Cole, we need all of us for this. You are just as important as either of us.”

  Directing her attention to me, she said, “Mara, go get a mortar and pestle for each of us from the cupboard on the patio.”

  As I went to get the items, Cole called after me, “Don't bring one for me. I packed one of my mom's with the bottles of herbs.”

  When I came back with bowls and grinding sticks for Gram and myself, the table was already set up with the bottles and candles. Cole was standing across from Gram and I took the spot to the left of her. When I handed Gram the mortar and pestle I had collected, she gave me a bottle labeled Dragon's Blood Resin and one white candle. Cole held the bottle of agrimony flowers and a candle.

  “Let's each of us prepare our candles. Remember to have an open heart and listen to it for direction,” Gram said, as she poured a generous amount of the juniper needles into her bowl and began to grind the brown sticks into smaller pieces.

  With a look of hesitation, Cole held the bottle tightly. Then, carefully removing the cork, he began to pour the yellow petals into the blue granite bowl that once belonged to his mother. As he ground the dried flowers, a string of silver thread bounced between his bowl and my grandmother's bowl.

  As I poured the small dark brown and red chunks of dragon's blood into my bowl, a small spark of fire sizzled. As I ground each piece, it continued to spark as it became a red powder. When the silver thread grew from the residue, I felt a static in the air and could feel the strong presence of the elements around me.

  With a powerful voice Gram said, “Goddess, we prepare this spell with pure hearts and a strong determination to protect the sacred magic you have granted us. We ask your blessing and guidance.”

  Swirling her white candle just above the greenish brown powder she had just made, she closed her eyes. The powder rose and began to follow the circles she made and the tip of the wick greedily consumed the ground juniper needles. When her bowl was empty, she set the candle down on the table in front of her.

  Cole and I met eyes and began to recreate the same magic that Gram had by circling our candles in our bowl. The candlewicks both siphoned up all of the powder we had made. When every speck of dust was absorbed, we set the candles in front of us on the table.

  Gram handed each of us a pale yellow nut from the bottle labeled White Oak Acorn. She then set the large yellow cand
le in the middle of us and pressed the three wicks down on the candle. Cole and I watched until she began grinding the acorn nut into a tan powder. This time she was more methodical in turning the seed to dust. She started to the right and returned to the center, ground towards her and returned to the center and continuing this method clockwise.

  Following her actions, we both did the same. As we turned the acorn into a powder, it changed to a silver color and rose from the bowls. The three wicks of the candle stood up as if summoning the acorn dust. The fine lines of particles arched and trailed from our bowls to one of the wicks. Once again, the candle greedily siphoned all of the powder that we had created.

  With the candles prepared, Gram handed me the bottle of rue petals, “Only take two small petals. We want the truth not to kill him.”

  Suddenly feeling scared at the possibility that I could kill Elliott, I handed the bottle to Cole. “You pick the petals. I will grind them.”

  Carefully dumping the petals into his hand, we watched as he sorted through putting the larger petals back. Holding the palm of his hand out to me full of small yellow pieces, he said, “Trust yourself, Mara, like you taught me.”

  I took the smallest petals and as I ground them I focused on thoughts of my father. The man that I remembered as a child. The man that loved me. Closing my eyes, I prayed to the Goddess. When I opened my eyes, the yellow ash I had made was above me in the shape of a butterfly. Gram held out her hand that held a small crystal vial and the yellow image flew across to her and entered the vial.

  Putting the silver cork on the top and handing me the vial, she said, “Blessed be.”

  As if nothing unusual had just happened, Gram began clearing the table, “Cole, let's start setting the table and, Mara, why don't you prepare the salad. Elliott should be home soon.”

  Cole and I exchanged looks of amazement. Only my grandmother could have something so marvelous happen in front of her and then worry about getting our meal ready. Kissing me on the forehead, Cole whispered, “She is an incredible woman.”