indeed a caretaker. Even a foot away, Eunice’s gentle spirit calmed Sunday’s nerves. Caretaker energies could permeate a brick wall.
If only every witch was a caretaker.
“You have such a strong spirit,” Eunice said warmly. “It is a true pleasure to have you in our company.”
Elisabeth turned to Eunice, and they nodded to one another.
Vicky’s grandmother began to rise, but Sunday gestured for her to remain seated, and Eunice gathered herself onto her chair again along with her. The elder witches were the strongest and most experienced of the bunch. Sunday settled into a seat beside them. Kayla left Sunday with Eunice and Elisabeth and returned to the dining room to hang out with the younger women.
“Your granddaughter just told me that you have been practicing since you were a child. You must have a lot of knowledge to share.”
Elisabeth smiled and nodded. She was a stout woman, her appearance made all the more homely by her attire of light blue jeans and the large branded t-shirt of a local sports team. Elisabeth was in her sixties, and her hair was short and white. She looked at Sunday through the thick lenses of her glasses.
“My mother and I came to the United States from Berlin when I was a girl. We came alone and settled in New York City. She was very young but unusually wise, and she consulted with a doctor who was a gifted herbalist. We discovered the arts together, and I continued to practice even after I had married and had children.” Elisabeth laughed heartily, reminiscing.
“My husband and children,” she continued, “thought I was kooky, but Victoria was always encouraging. She didn’t care much for it until she was older. Now, she practices with me, and I show her what I can, but she tells me that I’m old now, and she doesn’t think that I will have the time to teach her everything I know.”
Elisabeth leaned forward and poked Sunday’s ribs with her elbow, while Eunice shook her head, smiling behind her. “She thinks I’m old, but that doesn’t mean I’m dead. I have the heart of a horse. I think it will keep ticking for a long while yet.”
As they continued speaking, Sunday became enamored with the woman. Elisabeth had lived a rich, full life. She certainly had decades of knowledge and experience behind her, but Elisabeth was conservative with her gifts. Elisabeth’s aura wasn’t as potent as Eunice’s, but she was a caregiver in her own way. The feeling was so familiar, so reassuring, that Sunday eased into the comfort of her company.
The closest thing she’d ever had to a grandmother had been Bernadette, and their relationship had been complicated. She’d been a tool for Bernadette as much as subordinate. Bernadette had used Sunday to amplify her own power and as a conduit for the energy that flowed within the natural and preternatural worlds.
As her thoughts darkened with the memory of Bernadette, both women asked Sunday to tell them about herself. Kayla and Sammy had apparently told them little else other than how good a friend she was. The girls had little more to offer in the way of Sunday’s story. Knowing about Sunday’s life would make them think that she was crazy or put them in harm’s way. She had grown to cherish them, and she didn’t want to either risk losing their friendship or risk their safety.
“I don’t really know what you want to hear about me. I came to Columbia over a year ago after traveling the country for a while. I am an orphan, and as soon as I could, I set upon seeing the world.” Sunday’s false history was a well-rehearsed one.
“I came here,” she continued, “and I met Kayla, and she introduced me to Sam. We’ve been friends since. They’ve been asking me to come for a few months, but I didn’t think I’d be any good at this stuff. I mean, me? Magic? A witch?” She shrugged for effect. “It wasn’t anything I ever pictured myself doing… but anything’s possible.”
Eunice leaned over to pat her encouragingly
If only every witch was a caretaker.
“You have such a strong spirit,” Eunice said warmly. “It is a true pleasure to have you in our company.”
Elisabeth turned to Eunice, and they nodded to one another.
Vicky’s grandmother began to rise, but Sunday gestured for her to remain seated, and Eunice gathered herself onto her chair again along with her. The elder witches were the strongest and most experienced of the bunch. Sunday settled into a seat beside them. Kayla left Sunday with Eunice and Elisabeth and returned to the dining room to hang out with the younger women.
“Your granddaughter just told me that you have been practicing since you were a child. You must have a lot of knowledge to share.”
Elisabeth smiled and nodded. She was a stout woman, her appearance made all the more homely by her attire of light blue jeans and the large branded t-shirt of a local sports team. Elisabeth was in her sixties, and her hair was short and white. She looked at Sunday through the thick lenses of her glasses.
“My mother and I came to the United States from Berlin when I was a girl. We came alone and settled in New York City. She was very young but unusually wise, and she consulted with a doctor who was a gifted herbalist. We discovered the arts together, and I continued to practice even after I had married and had children.” Elisabeth laughed heartily, reminiscing.
“My husband and children,” she continued, “thought I was kooky, but Victoria was always encouraging. She didn’t care much for it until she was older. Now, she practices with me, and I show her what I can, but she tells me that I’m old now, and she doesn’t think that I will have the time to teach her everything I know.”
Elisabeth leaned forward and poked Sunday’s ribs with her elbow, while Eunice shook her head, smiling behind her. “She thinks I’m old, but that doesn’t mean I’m dead. I have the heart of a horse. I think it will keep ticking for a long while yet.”
As they continued speaking, Sunday became enamored with the woman. Elisabeth had lived a rich, full life. She certainly had decades of knowledge and experience behind her, but Elisabeth was conservative with her gifts. Elisabeth’s aura wasn’t as potent as Eunice’s, but she was a caregiver in her own way. The feeling was so familiar, so reassuring, that Sunday eased into the comfort of her company.
The closest thing she’d ever had to a grandmother had been Bernadette, and their relationship had been complicated. She’d been a tool for Bernadette as much as subordinate. Bernadette had used Sunday to amplify her own power and as a conduit for the energy that flowed within the natural and preternatural worlds.
As her thoughts darkened with the memory of Bernadette, both women asked Sunday to tell them about herself. Kayla and Sammy had apparently told them little else other than how good a friend she was. The girls had little more to offer in the way of Sunday’s story. Knowing about Sunday’s life would make them think that she was crazy or put them in harm’s way. She had grown to cherish them, and she didn’t want to either risk losing their friendship or risk their safety.
“I don’t really know what you want to hear about me. I came to Columbia over a year ago after traveling the country for a while. I am an orphan, and as soon as I could, I set upon seeing the world.” Sunday’s false history was a well-rehearsed one.
“I came here,” she continued, “and I met Kayla, and she introduced me to Sam. We’ve been friends since. They’ve been asking me to come for a few months, but I didn’t think I’d be any good at this stuff. I mean, me? Magic? A witch?” She shrugged for effect. “It wasn’t anything I ever pictured myself doing… but anything’s possible.”
Eunice leaned over to pat her encouragingly
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