LAST WEEK:
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Noita was trying to enjoy the last moments of her good mood before she arrived at the bus stop. It had been brought on by the warm spring weather, as well as watching Renna’s reaction as she had learned about her familial connection to Noita and her sister. She was intensely curious to see what would happen next, but alas, they were obliged to return to Karanarthex as soon as possible, which meant catching the bus for a juttery, bumpy four-hour trip across the Adirondacks.
Noita had her earphones in and was listening to mellow, hazy guitar chords that perfectly accentuated the myriad colors of the flowers she passed by, none of which matched with the drab colors of her leggings or shirt. But she liked it that way. She thought she heard the buzzing of some bees nearby, but upon looking up she was little surprised to see it was just her sister, pacing around the bus stop sign and losing patience with a conversation she was having on a cell phone. As Noita slowed down and plucked the earbuds from her ears, Czaronica caught her with her glare and kept her from retreating to a safe distance.
“Yes. Yes, of course, I understand. The bus will be here any moment, and we’ll be home tonight. I know, I’m sorry. We shall see you then.”
Czaronica jammed her thumb against the end call button and turned her full irritation to her sister. Once the phone was back in her pocket, she began reactively scratching at the numerous claw marks and scabs that were all over her hands, arms, and face. She looked even worse for wear than Sera or Renna. “Just great. Even after this whole stupid mission went south, we suddenly have to get our asses home without even getting to stop at the outlet stores like we planned. And I’ve been saving my money for those boots I had my eyes on!”
Noita was secretly relieved. At least half the money her sister had ‘saved’ was actually ‘borrowed’ from Noita, who had more of a buffer between the stages of what she wanted and what she bought.
“What else happened?” Noita asked, looking up and down the deserted road for any signs of the bus. She was more experienced than anyone at reading into Czaronica’s bad moods, like a haruspex of ancient Roman times who would examine the entrails of animals for divinations … in this case, it would be animals that had met with Czaronica’s wrath.
“She came back. She’s been at the manor for four days now, enjoying Ragana’s favoritism while telling her whatever she wants to hear with those stupid cards of hers.”
Noita raised an eyebrow. “Luci is back already? That’s strange. What did she say?”
Czaronica’s hand snaked into Noita’s pocket and withdrew her music player and earbuds, which she began putting on herself. “According to our little tarot reader, the cards said that this whole mission had been futile from the beginning, but it would have positive outcomes later on, particularly concerning Renna. Sounds like she’s just trying to cash in on our hard work.”
“I wonder if she predicted that before we even came here … Her abilities with tarot really are on another level.”
“Jeez, don’t be too harsh on her, Noi,” her sister snarled at her. “Have some damn self-respect. She’s a year younger than us, she can’t be upstaging us in front of our own damn grandmother. It’s because you’re so shy about your own Craft that she’s always dishing out the praise to Luci.”
Noita shrugged. “You seem to be the one who’s so bent out of shape about it,” she said, in a low enough voice that Czaronica couldn’t hear her over the jarring, guttural screaming in her ears. She preferred music with more of an edge than Noita did, thus the music player had a rather split personality. They didn’t speak until the bus arrived a few minutes later. It was relatively empty, which allowed Czaronica to choose her luggage as a preferable seat companion to her own sister, who settled into the row behind her. Before the rumble of the engine made it too difficult to hear, however, Czaronica craned her neck back toward Noita.
“What about that book? Did you get it?”
Noita settled back into her seat, pressing her forehead against the window, which made her vision vibrate and her brain feel wobbly. It was a strangely satisfying thing to do, however.
“No, but it will come back to us. If it doesn’t, we can blame that on the cards.”
***
“I know this sounds stupid, but I didn’t really expect your Rectory to be quite so … churchy.”
“Very funny. We’re not there yet, unfortunately. Welcome to Lederville.”
Job, Renna and Sera stood amidst their luggage as the bus they had just disembarked from drove away down the main street of the town. The three newcomers’ gazes had been immediately captured by the massive church building that stood, imposing and proud, at the opposite end of the road a few hundred meters away. The town itself could hardly be described as anything but “quaint”—small brick stores with whitewashed facades were lined up along both sides of the aforementioned main street, doing their best impression of a Norman Rockwell painting. There was a barbershop, a general store, a post office, a café, bait and tackle store, and even a two-story department store straight out of the fifties. The church loomed over them all, and the long shadow that its steeple cast swept slowly over the town like a watchful beacon.
The few people who were out and about fit right in with the scenery. Never before had Renna felt out of place for not wearing a collared shirt or a blouse. Admittedly it was Sunday, but it looked like folks around here took Sunday very seriously. Right now it was more befuddling to Renna than it might usually be, as she had just been jolted out of a sound slumber a couple minutes earlier. They had left painfully early in the morning, and Sera, whose lethargy made her doze off easily at any time of the day, had returned to sleep as soon as they had boarded the bus. The colors of the early morning sky had been astonishingly beautiful, but it was only so long before Renna succumbed to Sera’s somniferous influence.
Job, who Renna expected had been fully awake the entire trip, was already picking up their bags to start moving again. “Around this part of the state, it’s difficult to find a bus that will go more than a couple towns over, so we’re going to have to wait for a transfer. This is a good place for it, though, as we have an errand to run while we wait.”
“What in the world could that be?” Renna asked, helping Sera with her luggage as the two of them hurried after Job’s swift steps. “It feels like any witches hanging around this town would have been burned at the stake a while ago.”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” Job replied without looking back. “There’s plenty of room for our kind to exist, even in an environment like this. The closer you examine something, the more you’ll realize that the colors you see are composed of many different hues.”
“Still not awake enough for your metaphors,” grunted Renna. “Where exactly are we headed?”
“We’re going to meet up with another member of our network. I think you’ll like her, she also doesn’t care for my clever metaphors.”
A thirty-minute walk took them to the outskirts of the town, trekking up a shallow hill that overlooked the prim, orderly rows of houses radiating outward from the church. The houses they passed were getting further and further apart, with more space for trees in between, and each time Renna was fooled into thinking that it would just be the next mailbox, until they passed by yet again. Finally they stopped; Renna looked across the street, assuming the house would be hidden somewhere amongst the sprays of spring leaves, but she saw nothing. After a minute’s searching, she had to accept that the domicile on their side of the street was in fact the destination of their journey.
It could only be called a domicile in technical terms because someone could technically live inside of it. The main structure was, in fact, a large RV. Its wheels were no longer visible after years of sitting in the same place, and the weeds and grasses had grown up around them, far into the underside of the vehicle as well, effectively rooting it to the ground. To be fair, the owner was probably not too keen on moving it any time soon, as a large part of the RV’s side wall had been shorn clean off, opening the interior up to the outside. A lean-to, built out of sturdy logs, rope and tarps, served as an adjoining wing of the modified homestead.
Other homely touches were more modular—chairs and tables were set up on the lawn (mowing unneeded by virtue of it being mostly dirt and stones), and a thick post held a cluster of lanterns that ran off along clotheslines, criss-crossing through the trees all over the property. One could probably walk nearly anywhere around that patch of woods at night while pulling a light along on a rope. A heavy column of smoke rose from behind the RV, its size indicating that a fire pit was likely burning away.
To someone familiar with the homey DIY-ness of Inglenook, the place gave off no unpleasant or unwelcome vibes. And now that Renna had met a couple folks who worked with the Craft, she knew this place could only belong to someone who took greater interest in the world beyond the mundane and material. The person who stepped out the door to meet them surprised Renna at first, due to her own preconceptions, but quickly dispelled any doubt that she was the mistress of this domain.
“A few minutes early, Job,” the woman said, striding towards them. Every motion of hers was instilled with fluid grace, but when she stopped and stood before them, her posture was reminiscent of worked iron that still simmered with heat. Her strong-featured face was framed with a beautiful purple al-amira, fastened with an intricately wrought steel pendant. “The old boys at the Rectory like to sing praises of your punctuality. It’s no sin compared to tardiness, but arriving before the time can still be seen as an inconvenience to the host.”
Job gave a courteous bow. “I apologize for any and all such inconvenience. It’s been difficult to time our arrivals and departures when we’re all unfamiliar with this part of the state.” Renna was sure that Job would have been on time to the minute if they had not had Renna and Sera to worry about as well. However, Job looked up to see the woman grinning.
“It seems all of your other manners hold up. I don’t mind in the least, I just saw how fancy and professional you looked and couldn’t help myself. You just looked so stiff, I wanted to see if you could actually bend.” Renna knew it would have been bad to snicker at that, so she held back. The woman’s joking didn’t seem to help Job loosen up at all.
The woman’s keen gaze fell upon the girls. “One of those must be Renna, but you seem to have picked up another.”
Job made the introductions, and in doing so presented Leila, yet another member of the Rectory’s network, and a rare specialist in magic tool crafting. She invited them all into the backyard, where they discovered that the smoke actually came from a forge that had been set up in the clearing. The back wall of the RV had been utilized to hold a wide assortment of tools, and an actual anvil rested upon a concrete foundation next to the blazing furnace. The group sat upon stumps a short distance away from the fire, but Renna could still feel the waves of heat press against her face.
“In case all the props weren’t enough to tell, I work here as a blacksmith, mostly making tools for other witches to use in their own Craft. The Rectory has been a valued customer, so I would consider most of my work subsidized, which helps me get by in the leaner months.” She laughed beautifully.
Renna was momentarily lost in admiring the pieces Leila had brought them as examples of her work. The one in her hands was a chain necklace, with small strips of polished steel hanging off it. Upon each of these strips was a magical sigil, only a few of which Renna could recognize. Each curve was etched with such skill and care, she could almost feel the magic flowing through it. This and several other pieces were art that surely could be sold at a high price to anyone, even people with no understanding of magic. She said so to Leila, but then recognized that the town of Lederville probably wasn’t the best market for pagan products, nor their purveyors.
Leila surprised her, however. “I actually do pretty well for myself in this place. There’s certainly a strong conservative element here, and all the contention that such an atmosphere can breed, but there will always be those who seek out something different. To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I was treated without respect in my interactions with folks here. Appearances can be deceiving.”
Renna recalled that lesson coming from Job not long ago. “Sorry if this question is insensitive, but are you Christian as well?”
Leila laughed at Renna’s timidity. “Not at all. Islam is part of the same grand story, but our faithful are people of a different creed. Sadly, many have either forgotten that as of late, or never even knew to begin with.”
This was the first time Renna saw traces of sadness along the worn lines of Leila’s animated face. Renna figured she was far from knowing enough to understand where her pain came from. All traces of Leila’s past slipped back behind a happier expression, though, as she returned to the conversation.
“From what the Rectory has told me, you’ve been carrying a profane magic tool that you would like me to eradicate,” she said to Job. It was only now that Renna remembered they still had the strange charm from the kids in the park, sealed by the first spell Renna had ever seen Job perform.
Job dug it out of their bag and handed it over to Leila. “I was going to deposit it at the Rectory, but since we were stopping for a layover in Lederville anyway, I figured I would save a couple steps in the process.”
Leila turned it about carefully in her hands. “I don’t mind, as long as I can send the bill to the usual place. It’s going to be a bit more trouble than usual, unfortunately, as I had some of my magic tools stolen from me yesterday.”
Her visitors expressed surprise and concern, so she filled them in. “The town’s been having a strange bit of drama lately. It seems that a group of kids has taken a keen interest in witchcraft, and have been studying it without their parents’ knowledge. Of course, the community didn’t take kindly to it once their studies were discovered. I heard that there was going to be a big meeting about it in church today. But I guess the children aren’t done yet, and they found their plight to be a valid excuse to make off with some of my tools without asking me.”
“Do you have any idea. Who the culprit might be?” Sera asked her.
“While I don’t believe there is justice in assumptions, my first guess would be the girl who acted as the ringleader of the children. She’s about your age, large glasses, incredibly frizzy hair. Very … bombastic attitude. She’s excitable and creative, but I don’t like to think she would resort to stealing unless she found herself in dire straits. Which might have happened, considering the uproar that their actions have been causing amongst the congregation.”
Renna felt a bit worried for this person, despite knowing them only through Leila’s incriminating description. “Do you think she’ll be okay? If everyone’s really that against witchcraft, what will her parents do when they find out she’s been stealing on top of that?”
Leila shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry about that. She’s different than the other children—her parents live out closer to my side of town. They run with the hippie crowd—prefer papasans to pews for sitting, as I like to say. I feel much worse for the churchgoing youth that she got involved in her exploration of witchcraft.”
Looking around to see everyone a bit dismayed by her story, she continued, “There’s no need to fear for them. While their moral re-education will likely be severe, the parents and community do it out of an intrinsic desire to see their children grow up properly and not erring from the light God shines upon them. They aren’t all that different from the Muslim communities that I was a part of in times before. Life goes on, and those who truly are different at heart will find a way to escape the environments that do too much to keep them safe from the darkness they seek. I say that from personal experience.”
With that, the subject was delicately put aside, and they proceeded to recount for Leila the general flow of events that had transpired in the past week. While Renna enjoyed being in the sacred space that Leila had made for herself, both she and Sera were beginning to get antsy and hungry. Job informed them that their next bus didn’t leave till the late afternoon, and that they were free to go into town to stretch their legs and fill their stomachs.
“I know I shouldn’t need to say this, but it does my conscience good. Be careful about what you say and do in this community, especially with this recent witch craze. People are likely to be confused, angry, and on edge, which is enough to make anyone act unreasonably in a bad moment.”
Both girls understood the full meaning of Job’s warning and promised to keep a low profile. With that, they left the two older witches behind and walked the road back into town, watching the wild forest gradually become tamed back into well-manicured lawns with neighborly fences separating each to their own. Flags fluttered on garages, well-washed trucks and minivans glistened in the Sunday sunlight where they were parked in driveways, and every person they passed by gave them at least a friendly nod and smile.
Renna could tell that for many people, this place was a safe and happy home—she wondered just how different she was from these people by the fact that all she felt was a constant sense of unease. Job was a Christian as well, so much so that they had spent many of their teenage years in a rectory, being taught by officers of the church. But at the same time, she knew there would be differences between Job and these people that a common bond of faith could not bridge.
The duo arrived at the end of their road that merged into the main street and saw they were only a couple blocks away from the church. People were milling about in a large cluster in front of the massive wooden doors, enjoying the weather while getting out all the gossip and talk that had been building up silently during the morning service. Given the size of the crowd and the near desertion of the rest of the town, it would seem that an accurate population census could be taken on a Sunday morning at the church.
A quick promenade up and down the block revealed that none of the shops were open quite yet— something that should have been more obvious in hindsight. The girls had just agreed to make the hike to the convenience store near the edge of town when something caught Sera’s attention, and tugging on Renna’s sleeve, turned her church-ward. The throng of people was still mostly coagulated in front of the church, but they could now see a small stream of departers heading off to the left, where they were gathering up again around a smaller, equally-churchy building next door. This crowd was becoming increasingly more excited or agitated by whatever was bringing them together.
“What do you think?”
Of the pair, Sera was more reluctant to try and find out what was going on, but Renna had a feeling that a bit of rubbernecking might give them more insight into the recent events of the witch-circle bust-up. She wasn’t intending to stick her nose into anything that didn’t concern her, especially in a town like this, but the concept of finding more young witches, and a whole group of them at that, was an itch that she just couldn’t stop herself from scratching.
Renna and Sera ended up being able to hear the event before they could see it, by virtue of it being expressed fairly loudly, so that the two of them could catch parts of it as they made their way casually across the green in the center of the town, heading towards the commotion. It sounded like one shrill, defiant voice was raised in anger against a tittering of indignant opponents. By the time they crossed the street in front of the building, the crowd had become large enough that they could blend into the outside ring without causing any notice.
The edifice they were in front of was, according to a nearby sign, the historical “old church”, which had been converted into a general meetinghouse when the larger tribute to God was built next door. It was proudly marked as the oldest building in the entire town, with great significance and integrity imbued in its historical frame. And attached to the double doors, with their incredibly historic paint coats peeling and flaking off, was a girl of about Renna and Sera’s age, wearing large-rimmed glasses that flashed in the light as she thrashed about, and frizzy hair that framed her face like an angry lion. From the amount of vitriol she was spitting at the crowd gathered at the bottom of the steps, one might assume that she had been confined against her will, but it was quickly made clear that she had lashed herself to the creaking doors with an assortment of bungee cords, in the style of a thrifty martyr.
“For the final time, young woman, untie yourself—carefully—from that door and leave the premises at once! This is beyond unacceptable behavior for anyone your age!” This came from the ringleader of the crowd, a middle-aged woman who seemed to have bleached, lifted or lasered off everything God had given her. Her PTA-power-mom suit glistened in the sunlight, and one of her beige pumps smacked down on the first stone step to emphasize her point.
“My age has nothing to do with this, this is about justice!” the girl tied to the doors began her retort. “Just because the church runs this town doesn’t mean it can silence and oppress those who think differently! We pagans will not be erased from the world that you came into and took over! I won’t allow you to continue to trample our traditions into the ground, just so you can sing your hallelujahs and your Hail Mary’s without having to worry about all the innocent witches you put to the pyre! And now you’ll do it again, with your own children! Just because they aren’t letting themselves be brainwashed like you people! You think you know truth, HAH, have you even read the Bible, do you even know …” She continued on, over the occasional shouts and comments from the crowd, but by this time most people seemed quite through with the whole affair. Even the woman who had spoken earlier was more interested in scrutinizing her manicure—she definitely wasn’t able to ignore the girl’s rantings, however, as her body was taut with rage.
Renna and Sera scattered with the rest of the crowd to make way for the police car that rolled up and parked without its sirens or lights on. A young officer wearing a look of mild amusement climbed out, and people made a path for him up the steps.
“Thank you for coming so quickly, Devin. Please remove that heretic from our beloved meetinghouse.” A purple, glittery nail lashed out in the direction of the lone protestor.
The officer named Devin gave a respectful tip of his hat and within a minute had undone the girl’s best attempts at fighting the power. She was still free to yell, and she made the most of it as she was half-led, half-carried down the steps to the squad car. At this point, she was mostly repeating the accusations and insults that she had said at least once while Renna and Sera had been around to hear them.
The spectacle’s other leading lady couldn’t resist a parting shot as Devin guided the girl into the back seat. She drew close, her eyes widening as she hissed her final condemnation.
“Perhaps that holding cell will remind you of the fate you’ll be facing for the rest of eternity if you don’t repent your sinful ways!”
The result was just adding gasoline to the grease fire. “I can’t imagine it will because you won’t be there, Deborah! BECAUSE IF I GO TO HELL I EXPECT YOU TO BE SITTING RIGHT THERE NEXT TO ME, AND YOU CAN BET I’LL BE ASKING SATAN TO THROW ME DOWN THERE WITH JUDAS JUST TO GET AWAY FROM—”
Officer Devin turned down the volume by carefully closing the door. Deborah placed a ring-laden hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, Devin. I was just getting the worst migraine from hearing that hellion’s voice. What is society coming to, when we have to suffer hearing such blasphemy right after hearing the joy of His message. The times we live in.”
Devin gave her another tip of his cap and pulled the police car away. Now that the spectacle was over, most people had dispersed to go home or rejoin their families who hadn’t dared to go near the altercation. Deborah managed to gather together about a dozen or so other people, however.
“This is not over. Of course, I trust in the reverend’s words that such evils will leave our community with time and God’s love, but we all here know that when it comes to children of that age, darkness cannot be allowed to fester within them. Especially for the families of those whose children have fallen prey to her words of heresy. I am calling an emergency meeting immediately over at the Faith Center—send a message to anyone else who needs to be there.”
The group gave a hearty assent and sprang into action. Renna and Sera had retreated further away once the crowd had dispersed, to keep their profiles as low as possible. They looked to each other again, and saw they had another decision to make. Sera knew that any hesitation on her part would be wasted at this point, so she let Renna know that she was on board with joining the meeting surreptitiously.
They chose an individual who they overheard saying he would go directly to the meeting site and managed to tail him down Main Street without drawing unwanted attention. The Faith Center was a large, newer building squeezed between the pharmacy and the Christian bookstore. The ground floor was enclosed by large sheet-glass windows, and appeared to serve as a café or lounge area with plenty of seating and indoor plants. Renna was about to head in after the man they followed when Sera grabbed her and pulled her back.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What? But we need to get in there so we can hear what’s going on.”
“I know. But we should wait. There are too many people. We might get noticed. Everyone knows each other here. No one knows us.”
Renna now understood Sera’s precaution and realized she might have been acting too recklessly. She nodded and they started down a side street, intending to make a small loop back to the Center, to avoid loitering and thus becoming more noticeable. Renna hadn’t given it much thought before now, but she realized that being a stranger here would be similar to Job’s arrival at Inglenook. Everyone knew they weren’t part of the community, and despite not doing anything wrong, feelings of suspicion and distrust would stick to them like lint from the dryer.
They talked as they walked. “So that was definitely the girl who stole Leila’s tools, right? She matches her description better than anyone I could make up in my mind.”
“Agreed. She called her bombastic. And excitable. I think she was being kind.”
Renna laughed. “Too true. I’m amazed she was going off on all those people like that. And she even tied herself to the door! I can’t imagine what she was trying to accomplish with all that …”
Sera shrugged. “But. If she took the witch tools. Does that mean. That she’s a witch?”
Renna returned her shrug. “Good question. I wish we could talk to her, but I guess she’s off to the slammer or something. That’s pretty intense though, I mean I can’t imagine she’s older than us …”
“If she did steal Leila’s tools. Wouldn’t that make her a criminal though?”
“I guess so. Larceny on top of trespassing and … maybe blaspheming is a crime around here too? I don’t know.”
“If it is. Would that mean. They would arrest us too if they got the chance?”
Renna felt herself tense up a bit. “I don’t know, and that’s scary. If I wasn’t so godda—… gosh-darned hungry, I would say we should head back to Leila’s and stay there till we leave.”
“True. Maybe after their meeting. We can order something from the café in the Faith Center.”
“Maybe. Speaking of which, it’s probably safe to head back there. We don’t want to miss the whole meeting.”
“Yeah. Let’s turn left up here.”
“Wait, left? I thought it was right …”
Hear the author read this week’s installment in the video below:
MetaStellar fiction editor Geordie Morse works primarily as a personal language coach, developing curricula and working with clients remotely. His first book, Renna's Crossing, is out now. His various other projects are cataloged on his site Arnamantle.