“You’re welcome.”
As Derek backs out of the driveway, I approach the front door. I knock briefly and enter.
“Ronnie?” I ask in an elevated voice. “Where are you?”
“In the kitchen!” she shouts back. “I’m making tea.”
My best friend sets a kettle on the stove and turns on the burner. At nearly eight months, her belly stretches her maternity T-shirt, and her feet are so swollen, they resemble mini balloons. Frizzy and disheveled crimson curls fall to her shoulders. Dark circles hint at sleepless nights.
“Hey, why don’t you let me make the tea?” I ask, placing my purse in a chair. “Sit and prop your feet up.”
She rubs her lower back. “This time, I’m taking you up on your offer.”
While she sits with a pillow tucked behind her lumbar, I grab a couple of mugs from an upper cabinet and spoons from a drawer. After dropping some stevia in, I place them on the kitchen table.
“What would you like? Peppermint or Ginger?” I ask.
“Peppermint. It’s about all I can stomach these days. The scent of ginger makes me want to puke.”
“You don’t have long now. In a few weeks, you’ll say hello to your baby.”
The teakettle whistles, and I pour hot water into our mugs. Ronnie waves a hand as she chants, and amber magic seeps from her fingers. The spoons twirl inside.
She chuckles. “I have to do something, or I’ll feel useless.”
“It’s great you’re loosening up. Use it or lose it, I say, whether or not Leslie approves.”
“Yeah,” she says, sipping her tea. “Derek didn’t want our child to be raised on magic, but we came to a compromise. I have to wait until our kid is older.”
“Probably safer. But if you are practicing witchcraft, you realize it could spark the witch energy in your kid, right?”
“We’ll have to figure out how to handle it when or if it happens.”
“Derek says you’ve been anxious. ‘Bad vibes,’ he called them. More mother’s intuition warnings?”
“I don’t know. Out of nowhere, an overwhelming dread takes over my body, like a tsunami, and I clutch my belly. After massaging it for a while, the sensation fades, but it hangs over me—a guillotine ready to drop.” She slides an index finger across her neck.
“Oh, Ronnie. Why didn’t you tell me?” I jump up from my chair and hug her.
“I figured it was expectant mom jitters. We all have them, right?”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I say, sitting in my seat. “Or are these different? You’re a witch, too. When did the first one occur?”
“When we hiked in the park. You thought you saw something move in the woods. Do you remember?”
“Holy crystals,” I say, my lips parting. “I did, too. Did this sense of dread occur any other time besides recently?”
“Yeah. A little the day we met Courtney on the trail.” Her jaw drops. “Is that why you rushed ahead of me?”
I nod. “Something pulled me toward the bog. Then I nearly ran into her. I’ve had suspicions about her since then. We talked about her at the Pumpkin House after the circle. No one seems to think she’s involved. It’s a gut feeling I have—my weak intuition.”
“What’s triggering these feelings? Do you think the kidnappers are camping out in the park?”
“I don’t know. But the Bearsden Police are all over the city now. If those criminals are hiding in there, they’ll find them. Or frighten them away. But we should share our concerns with the Fellowship on Thursday.”
“The patrols can’t monitor everywhere twenty-four-seven. The Baby Nabbers have evaded capture all this time.” She lays both hands on her belly. “I have a bad feeling.”
I lay my hand on hers and squeeze. “The coven is on guard. We’ll keep you and your infant safe if they don’t capture these kidnappers. Meanwhile, I have a plan. Seamus agreed to teach me some of his intuition secrets—the ways of the cat sith. We’re starting on Friday.”
“Does Archie know you’re doing this?” she asks. “Anyone in the coven?”
I don’t reply. Instead, I pick up my mug of Earl Grey and take a sip. Then another.
“For fuck’s sake, Gwyn. You’re mixing types of magic. Shouldn’t you ask someone if it’s safe? Or ethical?”
I set my mug on the table. “Do you think Seamus would agree to teach me if it wasn’t? How is it unethical? He’s a witch. A trustworthy one who saved my life a couple of times and helped the coven when Cordelia Davenport wreaked havoc in Bearsden.”
“Hmph. You know why Seamus is helping you. Because he loves you. And that’s why you aren’t telling Archie.”
“I don’t want to argue with you. I came to ease your worry. If both of our intuitions are accurate, I need to at least strengthen mine. Agnes met with me twice to work on it. I’ve been meditating daily with an amethyst geode she gave me, adding other crystals to find the most effective duo. Unfortunately, I haven’t discovered the correct combination yet. I’ve concentrated so much on intuition, I’ve not practiced with the crystal grid. Aunt Gorawen made me promise to take my time, so that option is off the table.”
“Please, be careful, Gwyn.” Folds form in her brow. “And I’m not talking about the crystals.”
As the rain taps on the windowpanes, Leslie begins our regular Thursday circle with a tap of her Elder staff. “Elijah would like to address the coven before we begin our discussion. Councilman, you have the floor.”
He stands to address us. “I want to thank all of you again for understanding my predicament on Monday evening. I was in a tough spot. But that’s not my reason for speaking to you tonight. The shelter is going to be very short-handed this Thanksgiving, and we could use as many volunteers as we can get. I understand if you have individual family plans. Any help you could provide would be appreciated. Of course, we’ll set you up with a free, scrumptious meal.”
