The bedroom was dim but there was a pulse of pastel blue in the doorway. Ben stopped, saying, “What the hell…?”
“Stop!” Grim yelled, pushing at Ben’s chest to get him off. Ben backed off and Grim shimmied up the bed. “Someone’s trying the handle of the door.”
“At nine o’ clock on a Sunday morning?”
Grim found his pants and stuffed himself into them. “I don’t know, I didn’t put out the ‘Wizard For Sale’ sign yet.”
Ben raised an eyebrow as Grim pushed open the bedroom door. “Let me take down the wards before you come out.”
Grim dashed down the hallway and down the stairs. He stopped at the door, took three deep breaths, and put both hands on it. He whispered a spell, and moved both hands in a counter-clockwise direction at the same time. The blue wards faded.
Grim threw open the door. No one was there, but he saw someone getting into a car. “Hey!” he called.
She looked up – it was Ashlee, who came to see him before. This time she was in casual clothes. Grim smiled, though he knew how he looked, shirtless and barefoot. “Were you at the door?”
“Yeah, I…I’m sorry, I must have woken you up.”
“It’s all right, come on in.”
She shut and locked her door, and came over. “I thought nine would be all right.”
“It is. You’re lucky I’m here. I’m usually home.”
She smiled as he let her inside. “Must be fated.”
“Fate. Gotta love her.” He escorted her down to the lounge. At the same time, Ben – fully dressed – was coming down the stairs.
Grim saw her look at Ben, then at him. “You’re…”
Ben growled, “Gay? Is there a problem?” He gave her a look that reinforced the question.
“No, I – I – I really didn’t expect that.” She blushed, embarrassed.
“Sexual orientation has nothing to do with how you do magic,” Grim said, slightly bristling.
“I – I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Grim said, easing up. “Sit down. Want anything to drink?”
“Do you have any green tea?”
“I can. Give me a few minutes. Ben? You want a coffee?”
“Yeah,” said Ben. “I’ll be working out.”
Grim smiled at Ben, and anyone could tell that the two of them were lovers. Grim busied himself with getting three mugs and filling them with water.
“I’m sorry, were you two…” She waved her hand, frustrated on what to say.
“Yes, we were.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!”
Grim smiled at her. “There’s always the afternoon.” He drew a rune on the mug with his finger, and she could smell dark, rich coffee wafting from it. He did another one, and then another with hot piping tea. “Do you take anything in it?”
“How do you do that?”
He smiled. “It’s a rune of alchemy. It’s simple once you learn it. I memorized runes while I was training.” He sipped the coffee, black. “I have a good memory for physical things – symbols, written languages, even physical actions. But it really doesn’t matter the symbol, it matters what’s behind it.” He left one coffee on the counter to cool and then focused his attention on her. “So what brings you here this early in the morning?”
“I’m sorry about Thursday. My husband doesn’t like me learning magic.”
“Oh, come on. He’d love it after I give him a shot of my Viagra potion.”
She blushed and giggled. “Maybe he would.”
“Seriously, though,” he said, leaning back, “something is bothering you enough to want to learn protection spells. I know you can’t talk about it, I saw what it does.”
She looked embarrassed and pulled her tote bag close to her.
“I can do one of two things. Give you something to tide you over or unravel the spell you have.”
She shook her head, her eyes wide, just a moment before she went slack. Grim watched her have the seizure. This was a very strong spell, not even allowing her to think about it. It was done by a psi, no doubt about it. His knowledge of psi came from Mindstryker, and even then it was only for protection. Eule was another one, but he knew no magic; and as far as he knew, Grim couldn’t “ride” with him. This also meant he probably couldn’t unravel the spell.
The seizure subsided, and she looked at the tea on the counter, then back up at Grim who said, “Okay, on second thought, I can give you something—“
“No, it’s okay.”
“Do you belong to any cults or anything?”
She shook her head. Grim frowned, knowing she was lying. Damn, he wished he knew a psi.
“Do you believe in God?”
“Yes?”
“Catholic? Protestant? Agnostic?”
“W – Wicca.”
“Good! Which goddess?”
“Hera.”
Then Grim looked askance at her. Maybe there was a way to get her to talk about what she was involved with by not having to think of it.
“Do you know a story of Hecate?”
“Which one?”
He hoped she’d follow along. “Hecate saw someone who looked very impressionable and talked her into joining up with her. Maybe she offered power, or companionship, or something else. Can you guess what?”
“Power?”
He smiled, “Yes, exactly. So she gave this person her power, and then this person became almost her slave. She was connected to this person somehow, probably telepathically or something. What do you think, telepathically? Or a spell perhaps?”
Ashlee’s eyes widened. “Maybe a telepathic spell?”
“Maybe so,” Grim said. Good, he thought, she caught was I’m doing. “Now this person was almost controlled, but no longer wanted to be. So this person went to someone else for help. Hecate wouldn’t allow this person to speak about her influence. What do you think the helpful person could do?”
“Try to stop the spell?”
“But don’t you think the spell is inside that person’s head?”
“Can the helpful person get inside the other person’s head?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Maybe the spell isn’t telepathic all the time, but only activated when Hecate wants to use it. Maybe there’s certain key words that the person can’t say or think about. And if the person thinks of those words, the spell kicks in.”
Grim nodded. “Of course, of course. Why don’t you tell me a story of Hecate?”
“Maybe Hecate saw this person and did what you said, like saw that she was impression—“
Grim shook his head. “No genders about the person, please.”
“Oh. Okay. So Hecate saw this person was impressionable and told this person that they could have great control over their power, and all they’d have to do is become her student, but it ended up being more like a slave, and then the person didn’t want to do it anymore because Hecate was taking too much power out of h—the person, and so she went looking for another priest to—“ She went slack again.
“Shit,” Grim hissed. At least he knew one of the key words was priest. Probably High Priest since she was Wiccan.
She came out of it, and Grim smiled at her. “What do you remember last?”
“A story you were telling about Hecate.”
“You know why I was telling that story?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I think you should come up with some Hecate stories and come back to me? That’s your homework.” He pulled out a piece of paper. “In the meantime, here’s what I want you to do.”
He went around the counter and stood behind her. “I’m not going to get fresh,” he said, and put her arms around her. “You’re right-handed?”
“Yes.”
He laid her hand flat on the paper, his hand on top of hers. “Look before me, only before my sight, when I touch this paper. Show me the symbol I am to draw, and make it stronger the more I draw it. It is to my sight alone, of that and Grimaulkin.” He closed her hand into a fist, and then took out her index finger. He drew a sigil on the paper, that looked something like a diamond with an X across it.
“Do you have a magical name?”
“Misty.”
He drew a cloud inside the diamond, between the bottom part of the X.
“Ready?”
She nodded. He traced out the diamond counter-clockwise. “My will” – one line – “centers” – lower line – “in my” – upline – “mind” – closing line. “Now do it.”
She repeated the words and the motions. Her closing line went a little too far, the sigil faded into the paper. “It’ll do that if you make a mistake. It’s like insurance to make sure you don’t mess up. Give it a minute – ah, there it is.” It reappeared on the paper. “Do it again.”
She did it, and this time it was perfect, so the sigil stayed on the paper.
He drew the X, but this time starting at a two o’clock position and aiming diagonally down. “Protect and” He drew the other line, “Allow no one entry.” He completed the sigil. “Then, you sign it. I drew that, but pick whatever symbol you want. Wavy lines, a slash – it doesn’t matter. Once you sign it, it’s yours. Just make sure it doesn’t touch any of the other lines.”
She looked at the sigil. “This looks so easy.”
“Oh, this is only part one, sweetheart.” He let her go and went around the counter. “You still have to enact it.”
“What do you mean?”
“To make it work.” He picked up his coffee. “There’s your first free lesson. Now you have to pay.”
“How much?”
“Fifteen dollars a half hour. Plus supplies.”
“What do the supplies run?”
He motioned to the paper. “That would be free. You might want to bring a book for your own grimoire.”
“I don’t have anything fancy.”
Grim gave her a look. “Any notebook will do. Just consecrate it. Hell, we’re poor mages, we don’t write on vellum. Bring a notebook next time and we’ll consecrate it like we did with this paper. “
“All right.” She looked up. “When will next time be?”
“When can you come?”
“Wednesday?”
“I’ll wait until when, seven? And if you don’t show up by then, I’ll assume you’re not coming.”
“Do you have a phone?”
“Not for students, sorry.”
“Hm…okay.”
“For your protection and mine,” he said. “Now, if you don’t mind, my feet are freezing and I need to put something on.”
She laughed. “It’s okay, I’d better get going. My husband thinks I went to church.”
“Sort of, my dear. Sort of.”
Words: 1763
Inspiration: Continuing Soul of the Sky
Music: None
Comments: I’m not sure how forced it is that Grim would have thought to get the answers out in a third person and using allegory. However the members of the coven know how to use allegory, but they know who they’re thinking about when they’re speaking to each other. In this case, she’s not even thinking about MacDubh when she tells the Hecate story. It’s not a case of “He Who Shall Not Be Named” but an entire replacement. Not sure how realistic that is but I’m running with it.