The Elder Witches Page 6

  Chapter 6

  The den was lavishly furnished. Marianna sat in one of the leather arm chairs. It was the first time I’d seen her not wearing a business suit. Her dark hair wasn’t in a bun like usual either, allowing more gray to show through.

  “Hey sport, it’s about time you showed up,” Maeve said, “we’ve been waiting all morning”. She stood by the fireplace holding a giant sword by the hilt, the point rested lightly on the tip of her boot.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t a giant sword, possibly it was an average size sword but it was a sword nonetheless. It didn’t look like one of the cheap dime store polished job either, this looked like a weapon ready to be used in battle. I took a quick glance at the other members of our little tea party. Gwendolyn looked amused as I looked at the sword, her eyes sparkling with the anticipation of what I might do. She leaned forward slightly, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. Marianna hadn’t moved a muscle. Her face a mask of smug contempt, any anxiety I might be feeling with my current situation obviously beyond her concern.

  “What’s the deal with the sword?” I tried to sound casual.

  “It’s a gift given to us a very long time ago. It will help us know more about you,” Maeve said.

  “What are all the carvings on it?” They looked like hand carved hieroglyphics.

  “Runes. They were most definitely carved by hand. Perhaps not by human hands, but that’s another story,” Marianna said sipping her tea.

  Then Maeve did what I least expected, she turned the curved blade around, handing me the hilt. I didn’t move, looking from the sword to the others in the room. Gwendolyn and Marianna were both staring at me. Marianna looking almost bored. Part of me said this was a petite cute woman handing me a sword, another part was screaming these were very dangerous witches and maybe this was part of whatever ritual they were talking about.

  Maeve must have finally run out of words, she held her silence. Green eyes staring at my hesitation like a challenge to take the sword from her hand. I wasn’t about to be stared down by a 5 foot nothing spiky haired twenty something. Even if she could magically create fire balls. I told myself that a few times, to be honest, before reaching out for the sword. A genuine smile spread across Maeve’s face.

  The sword was large with an inwardly curving, single-edged blade that looked razor sharp. The wood handle felt smooth and warm in my hands as I took hold with both hands”.

  “Why is it glowing like that?”

  First it glowed dimly, then brighter, the pale yellow glow intensified and turned bright orange to red. The glow reflected off of the expensive vases sitting over the fireplace.

  “Holy shit! That’s a first!” Maeve said.

  Gwendolyn was on her feet and covered the 10 foot distance between us before I could register it happening, my attention so focused on the sword. The euphoric feeling the sword created was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Like we were made for each other.

  Marianna had set her tea down and was watching with interest now.

  Gwendolyn put her hands over mine on the sword. The feeling of oneness with the sword, and now her, was all encompassing, I could feel her breath on my cheek and feel her body pressing against my side. The sword was glowing impossibly bright and at that moment I knew that we were connected on a deep level that I didn’t understand, one that went beyond our rational mind to the subconscious primitive part that was all instinct and feeling.

  My head started to swoon, suddenly my breathing was very loud in my ears. Lavender filled my nose from the woman next to me. Her eyes started to radiate light in time with the sword and I wondered if mine were doing the same. Each time the sword glowed brighter her eyes would repeat that with more intensity. Then I saw it, a tattoo on her left inner forearm arm that wasn’t there before, a pentagram circled in blue, showing up in contrast to her pale skin like an image in a book.

  A few feet away Maeve’s mouth hung open as she lifted her own sleeve showing the same tattoo ringed in green, strobing in time with the sword. I didn’t need to ask to know it was not a regular tattoo and that it, too, wasn’t there a minute ago. Maeve walked over and raised my sleeve but nothing was on my arm.

  Then the sword stopped glowing, the runes went back to normal etched symbols in steel, and at a glance I could see that both of the girls’ tattoos were gone, replaced with unblemished skin. Gwendolyn took the sword, but stayed next to me, at ease being in my personal space.

  “You’re the one. I knew it,” Gwendolyn said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  Maeve took the sword back.

  I think I had been on the fence until that point on if I wanted to believe any of this. The look on all of their faces said this wasn’t something they had expected.

  “What just happened with that sword?” I asked.

  “That sword is older than most museum artifacts. In all my years I have never seen, or even heard about it doing that,” Marianna said.

  Gwendolyn took my hand and guided me to the couch next to her.

  “We have a lot to discuss I think.” She winked at me and I could feel the blood rushing to my face again. I also felt a bit light headed and swayed almost losing my balance.

  “Have a seat Gordon,” I felt Gwendolyn guide me to the couch.

  I wanted to say something but forgot what, then I got distracted by the pixie with spiky blond hair and bright red lipstick. She was on the short side, cute, had on a miniskirt and a leather jacket with combat boots. She looked sort of punk rock, and also sort of familiar. Maeve— her name was Maeve — I knew that but my head was fuzzy for some reason, I couldn’t think straight.

  “What did you do to me?” I asked.

  “I just needed to relax your mind so I could get a better read on you. It will pass in a minute or two,” Gwendolyn said.

  “So you could read me, like a book?” I said still trying to gather my thoughts. Truth be told I felt pretty good, it reminded me of when I went to the dentist once and got laughing gas.

  “Something like that,” she said. “I can usually tell a lot about a person when I look into their eyes. Some have said I could see a persons soul. I don’t know what it is, but I can tell if a person is good or bad, and see what potential they have for either, or both.”

  I took a deep breath trying to focus.

  “You have both but more good and a great deal more potential for good,” Gwendolyn said.

  I noticed that Maeve had been staring at me.

  “She’s right, you have both good and bad in you. You feel like you’re all bad but you do mostly good for people. But you’ve caused some people you love to get hurt which influences how you see yourself.”

  “How can you know any of that?” I said annoyed that she knew things I don’t ever share with people.

  “Maeve has a special gift, she can read people thoughts,” Gwendolyn said.

  “So you think I’m cute huh?” Maeve said. “And I look… punk today? I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s hard to keep up with the times when you’re as old as we are.”

  She walked over to the chair by the couch, her skirt swaying back and forth appreciatively catching my eye.

  “I’ll definitely take that as a compliment,” she said as she took a seat so I was between her and Gwendolyn.

  Looking over the three women, there were a few things they all had in common. They all had striking eyes, so bright they were luminous, that seemed to be reading my mind like a book as I sat there. Of course one of them probably was. The other two hadn’t said they couldn’t do it also. I looked at their porcelain perfect skin, even Marianna who, if I had to guess, must be in her mid 50’s. Neither of the sisters or their mother were beauty queen material, but the gifts they each shared made their healthy skin radiant, their eyes sparkle, and with the self confidence they each exuded they drew a person to them without even trying.

  “When you hired me to work here, you already knew or thought I as this person you were looking for, didn’t you?” I as
ked.

  “Yes,” Gwendolyn said. “We have known of you for quite some time.”

  The women looked at me as I thought about this, waiting patiently for me to mentally wrestle the situation under control. They had planned for me to be here. They specified to my boss, Jim Langhorne, that they had wanted me specifically. I found it odd at the time but a lot of rich people were eccentric and it wasn’t uncommon for clients to pick somebody based on what they expected an investigator to look like.

  “How could I be part of a prophecy? First, what is the prophecy, did you read about it in a book or something?”

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Marianna said, “but there is no issue as to its validity. Consider it a fact.”

  I didn’t budge. I could play stubborn too.

  “Fine. A god told my mother as part of the deal she made with her,” Marianna said.

  “A god. Jesus.”

  “No. Not that one,” Marianna said.

  Gwen reach over and took my hand. She pulled a knife from her pocket. “Hold out you finger.”

  I did as she asked, aware that she was soothing my thoughts again, to put me at ease. I didn’t want her to stop. Much like a junkie who can’t stop even though they know what they’re doing is bad. She cut my finger deeply. Blood started to flow into the rag she held under my hand. I let out a small gasp as the air hit the cut and the pain registered.

  She set the knife down. Then touched my wounded finger with her own. Almost at once the bleeding slowed, then after a few seconds it stopped altogether. I watched as the cut mended itself, pulling closed. First it looked like a week old wound, then it went to a scar, then even that disappeared altogether. No trace was left of the wound.

  “You are the one, Maeve and I both dreamed of you as being the one. That has never happened before. The few times we were wrong it was only one of us having the dream.”

  “But why couldn’t you be wrong if you both dreamed it?” I asked.

  “Because I dreamed it too,” Marianna said. “And I’ve never had the dream before. I think she’s right this time.”

  Gwendolyn and Maeve both leaned forward staring at Marianna, who didn’t give any indication of noticing. Gwendolyn’s hand tightened on mine briefly. Marianna hadn’t told them before now about her dream, that much was clear.

  After a pause Gwendolyn said, “The ceremony requires that we cut you, rather deeply. But I can heal you, as you’ve seen.”

  “Only the person meant for the prophecy will survive being cut by the sword,” Maeve said.

  I felt anxiety creep back the moment Gwendolyn let go of my hand. “What happens to me if you’re right?”

  “ ‘You will protect us’ is what the prophecy said verbatim,” Gwendolyn said.

  “Protect you,” I said, turning the thought over in my head. I got into the PI business to help people. The memory of trying and failing to protect my entire family swamped my brain. It was irrational, but those thoughts kept coming back no matter how many times I told myself that it really wasn’t my fault what had happened to them. I mulled all of this over, not realizing everybody was staring at me until I looked up. I decided awhile ago that I won’t back down from anything that can help save a person from danger.

  “Fine, I’ll do it,” I said, “With a few conditions.”

  “Of course, whatever you need Gordon, we give you our word,” Gwendolyn said.

  “Aye,” Maeve.

  “You have my word as well,” Marianna said.

  “If anything bad happens to me, take care of my dog. Second, I take flowers to my sister on her birthday every year, and I take flowers to my parents on Christmas. I’ll write down the addresses before you want to do this,” I said.

  “Also, I want to hear what you know about my parents.”