Origins

9. On the Making and Charming of Poppets

I promised myself I would cry no more. Everyone knew too much sobbing could harm the child in a mother’s womb, and I was beginning to learn that tears were futile. I needed to do something to secure my baby’s happiness and health.

It was time to use my powers.

Why had I not thought of this before? I wondered as I steadfastly sewed and decorated my poppets, working a little each day and night. The course of my relationship with Diarmuid ran parallel to my magick. Had I not captivated him completely with the rose stone? And then, when I’d misplaced it, he had fallen away, never returning to our secret circle. It was so clear. I needed to enlist the Goddess’s help to get him back in my arms.

I went through Ma’s cupboard of stones, searching for a gem to replace the rose stone. I weighed each stone in my palm and turned it about, hoping to feel a swell or glow of power, but nothing moved me. Perhaps a charm wasn’t the right thing anymore. Time for a spell.

First I dedicated a candle to him, carving runes up the side that spelled his name. Although I had to hide the candle from Ma, I burned it whenever she went out, chanting to the Goddess to rekindle the love flame in this boy. And when the flame was doused, I censed my belly with the smoke, inviting my babe to feel my love for her father.

While working candle magick, I also searched for a powerful love spell. Although Ma had instructed Kyra on the making of love dolls, I could not recall the details. Searching my mother’s Book of Shadows, I came across the spell. It was called simply Poppets.

Thou must craft two poppets to represent the two lovers.

What is done to the poppets shall be done to the lovers.

Cut two pieces of cloth shaped like a man, then two shaped like a woman. While cutting the cloth, bring to mind the person it represents. If the ideal lover has long, flowing hair or a comely beard, so should the poppet. Thou must heed— the lover thou seekest is thine ideal mate, not a named lord or lady.

Stuff the figure with herbs governed by Venus. Such herbs: verbena, feverfew, yarrow, motherwort, rosebuds, or damiana.

’Tis strong magick! Use only for a love that will have permanence, not for a mere dalliance.

Thou must thrice perform a love ritual over the poppets during the waxing moon.

The spell was very specific and promised to be very powerful. And I would give it all the more power by making my doll look just like Diarmuid and embroidering his name upon it. My own brand of magick had worked well when charming the rose stone; I felt sure this would be even stronger.

It took me days to construct the dolls, during which Ma noticed and encouraged my work. “You are seventeen years of age, Rose. Perhaps ’tis time for you to fall in love with a gentle witch.” She didn’t see the name I had stitched upon it, didn’t realize that I was making a Diarmuid poppet, designed to capture his love, and I didn’t dare tell her that I was working magick she considered to be dark. When the dolls were done, I had to wait for the waxing moon to begin the spell. I felt impatient, but I knew that the spell would have its full potency only if I followed the instructions.

By the time I was ready to perform the spell for the third time, it was August and Lughnassadh preparations were upon us. During the weeks of preparing the dolls and consecrating them, I missed Diarmuid desperately. My only consolation was that we would have the rest of our lives together once we made it past this obstacle. I also noticed that the babe was growing, pushing at the swath of cloth I belted around my skirts. I had to adjust the girdle higher, which only seemed to accent the new lushness of my breasts. Perhaps this was the Goddess’s purpose in waiting—to give Diarmuid a visible sign of my love for him, the child within my womb.