Origins

6. Night Visions

Tiny fingers.

I have short, pudgy fingers, and my da has the hands of a giant. Sometimes he holds me in his palm and lifts me in the air, allowing me to see the world the way birds and flies do. Other times, like now, I ride on his shoulders, laughing because he is reaching up to tickle me behind the knees.

We are at the seashore. The grass is so green here, and from the high cliffs you can see miles and miles of emerald field and roiling teal waters. Da hikes along the cliffside with me upon his shoulders. Occasionally the ocean rises up and smashes against the rocky cliff with a fierce temper, but we laugh at it. My da even dances closer, trying to catch the spray. Tiny droplets of water drench us, but we rejoice.

Da turns so suddenly that I am nearly wrenched out of his arms. I look to see what has alarmed him, and there it is, rising up like a dragon. The ocean is rising, higher and higher in a ferocious wave.

And then, when I look again, my da is not there. Only his laughter remains— a hollow, mean sound as the giant wave looms over me. Its monstrous tendrils rise, its power surging overhead.

I am alone on the cliff, a wave curling over me.

I try to run, but my tiny legs are weak, like the twig legs of a marionette. There is really no escape. yet escape is everything.

Somehow I know there is much to be lost if I succumb to the wave. It’s not only my life at stake, but also the lives and futures of all my clan, all the Wodebaynes, as well as the Braytindales and Leapvaughns and the witches of all Seven Clans.

So much at stake, but how can I escape?

How to get away from the ominous wave closing over my head?

“Rose? Rose! You must awaken.”

Gasping for breath, I tried to pull myself from sleep and navigate safely to the sound of my mother’s voice.

“Rose, child, you’ve had a night vision.”

I felt her hands on my arms, shaking me gently. Opening my eyes, I realized that I was in the cottage, safe and dry. But fear held me in its grip, and I was unable to shake it.

“It’s all right, child,” Ma said. “Tell me what you saw.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, afraid to talk about it. Afraid to open up to the woman I’d lied to so much of late. I had guarded my feelings and fears from Ma. How could I open up to her now?

She rubbed my back gently but firmly, up and down between my shoulders. A soothing warmth went through me, reminding me of all the times Ma had rubbed my back when I was sick or frightened or frustrated at not being able to master something. Whether it was the emotion of the dream or the tenderness of Ma’s gesture, I wasn’t sure. But suddenly I was crying.

“I was at the coast with Da,” I said, spilling out the details of my dream. I told Ma everything. about my father leaving me and about the giant wave that had been about to slam into me. “I don’t understand it. Please, Ma, please tell me the truth,” I said. “Was Da an evil man? Did he ever try to hurt me?”

“Oh, no, child!” Ma insisted. “Gowan MacEwan loved you dearly. The man did everything in his power to protect us.”

“Then why did he leave me behind in the dream, Ma? What does it mean?”

My mother pursed her lips thoughtfully. In the dim moonlight seeping in through the window she looked old, with lines creasing the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps he left you in the dream because he left you so early in life,” she said. “Or perhaps the rumors of his death make you suspicious of him.”

“Did he really die in his sleep, here in the cottage?”

“Aye.” She sighed, and I felt sure she would change the subject as usual. “ ’Twas so sudden, his death,” she murmured, as if to herself. “All the coveners suspected that someone had cast a dark spell upon him. Many said that the threefold law of magick was the reason for his death.”

I thought about the threefold law—that magick returns to the sender magnified three times. In this way dark magick would hurt the sender the most. “But that would mean that he was practicing dark magick, that he had fallen away from the ways of the Goddess.”

“Aye,” Ma agreed, staring off into the distance, “and I’ll never believe that of your father.” She stood up from my bedside and beckoned me to follow. “Come. Let’s cleanse the cottage for sweet dreams.”

While Ma lit the candles, I swept the center of the cottage to create a small circle around our table. I was surprised to see that she had taken out our yellow candles, which were usually reserved for special occasions, but she explained that they were to help me gain true vision. “It’s time you learned to have a second sight, to see past the ordinary and witness the Goddess’s will.”

I swallowed hard in amazement. How was it that she knew of my own plan? At that moment I wanted to sit down and tell her everything about Diarmuid, but as she started chanting over the candles, something held me back. Standing in the lemon circle of light, I watched as Ma beseeched the Goddess to bring me vision, to show me Her will for me.

Then Ma brought me to the center of the circle, and, standing behind me, she wrapped her arms around me. I felt so loved and protected there in her arms—like a child again.

“Gracious Goddess,” she said, “let Your love rain down upon Rose. Show her the path she must pursue to fulfill her destiny. Walk with her through this time of darkness to come again into the light.”

“So mote it be,” I said.

My mother’s hands went to my head. She stroked my hair back gently, then clasped her hands around my skull. “Rid her mind of frightening night visions. Let her see only Your vision, Goddess. Rid both our minds of dark thoughts. Chase evil from our home.”

“So mote it be,” I repeated as a warm feeling came over me. Leaning back against Ma, I remembered how she had summoned the Goddess to help me when I was little—to cool a feverish head, to guard me against eating a poisonous herb, to give me the wisdom to learn my runes. Ma and I had been at odds so much of late, but I knew that despite all of her disapproval and criticism, she did love me, her only daughter.

And in time, she would come to love Diarmuid as a son.