Witch - Chapter 2

Posted by AlOmega on November 07, 2001 at 15:03:24:

Mystique knew it would be a short trolley ride to where she had to go. She
needed more still water than was common in this place - and none of the brackish
kind. She knew of a pool that would be large and pure. Though it wasn’t now, it
would be soon. That would do. But it would be better at dusk. They would not
likely show until then anyway. Besides she loved walking the old musty streets.
She might not like the urine smells of the old French Quarter but she
could live with it.

Actually little had changed on that score since she had last lived in New
Orleans. But there were other changes. Harrah’s for one. She had gone there a
couple of times to see what the odds were at the tables and other gaming
devices. She had cast a single spell to force one of the slots to give
her a few coins. She only did it to ascertain if it was possible and to prove
them a reasonable source of revenue if the need arose. Too many observers and
potential IRS problems dissuaded her from pushing her luck, however. If she
‘hit it big’ at one of the tables or forced the slots to give her a
jackpot, she would have to file more information with the IRS than she was
willing to do. Less presence meant more safety.

The docks were mostly gone as well - replaced with high-priced shops and
restaurants catering to the more affluent. Yet the Quarter retained its charm
and memories. There was a time when she could have caught the trolley down
Canal and then a train at Terminal Station that traveled on North Saratoga just
west of Rampart. While the La Salle and Prince Conti were still around, the
station was long gone. Some streets had evaporated or been rerouted because of
newer hotels. And most of the old restaurants were gone as well although a few
- like Tujagues - still survived.

Different riverboats – river cruises – since she had been here last. More
modern riverboats where you could cruse and dine but none were like the old
sidewheeler, Ste. President. More expensive surely since the river cruise
with meal cost over $30. The cruise on the Ste. President had lasted
over two hours and only cost $2.50. But like much else, that had changed long
ago. Time did that. There would come a time when the modern domed stadium and
big aquarium would be torn down and fade into memory. But much of the Old Ways
remained within New Orleans to bring her back – well that, and old friends. They
would talk and visit and bring back the old memories….

Like in earlier days when the only boats that traveled the River were the steam
boats – side wheelers, rear wheelers. Those were glorious days. But there was
sadness also for she could remember the misery of slavery that dwelt within the
city. Within that misery – from Haiti and from an older time - had come voodoo.
Not akin to what she practiced but something different, something from another
place. She was younger then as well and that magic had attracted her for a
time. But Sonya had brought her back to the true magic – the magics she had
learned when she was first drawn here as a young girl. Little remained of that
time - even if people cared to preserve that part of New Orleans’ past. That
age was mostly gone. She could remember the time when as Novice she and Sonya
had seen that white-haired man some had called “Old Hickory”. Sonya had taken
one look and decided he wouldn’t amount to much and had shooed her home.

Tooth interrupted her musings with a nudge of impatience. He didn’t like the
Ladies any more than she but it wouldn’t do to miss Them. And besides he
preferred her to be done with the summoning sooner rather than later. Summons
ground his nerves to jelly.

************************************************************************

Not far away, someone else mused as she stretched once more. Somewhere, somehow
she knew that something had changed. Maybe it was a storm in the Gulf - maybe
something else. But she shouldn’t worry. She could remember back to when she’d
been cursed. That was a comfort because He wasn’t around any longer and she
was. She had been cursed simply because she had arrogantly refused to give head
to Neptune at an orgy eons ago. Seemed like yesterday but it was so much longer.
The ancient gods were a fickle bunch. But their curses outlasted them. She
only hoped that Neptune still wasn’t getting any lipstick on his dipstick
regardless of where he vanished to after Ragnarok.

Ragnarok - now there was a going away party! She had missed it along with many
another minor eternal get-together. If she hadn’t, she wouldn't be stuck on
Earth now. Although her butt had already been consigned to a scratchy basaltic
outcrop by then, that wasn’t what the original curse meant. Anyway becoming a
Siren had improved her singing and that had been worth it.

A soft ding announced her arrival breaking the silence in the elevator. She
walked toward the fenced area where the large pool was. Her hand pulled at the
white gate. A padlock clanked in stubborn response. She frowned, slightly
perturbed that anyone would secure the pool - as if anyone would worry about
accidental deaths. A pin pulled from her hair, opened the lock easily enough as
with a small laugh of triumph, she passed through the gate. Dropping her things
deckside, she slid into the pool. The water was cold despite the heat outside.
She sighed, beginning to feel relaxed and soon the only sound was the smooth
stroking of her arms cutting through the water.

***************************************************************************

Mystique paused once again. Was that smell again on the night air? No.
she thought. It was something else. Anyway it was time to call on the Ladies.
They would be the Ones to know.

She had stopped in a nondescript part of an ancient graveyard. The moon outlined
the shadows that fell from the crypts nearby. An augury etched in the land told
her that long ago water had existed not far beneath the soil. Crumbling dry
Rosemary and another herb, she started the incantation. From between her
breasts she brought forth a small blade. Hardly more than a pin actually. But
the writing flared brightly when she drew the single drop of blood from her
wrist. More strange, soft words and the crimson life dropped to the pile within
her right hand. A few words as she sprinkled the mixture on the ground before
her. But it wasn’t a mindless sprinkle. She was placing a rune upon the earth
as she had many times before. This was a running rune, a rune of swiftness and
water. Blood bound it and gave it strength. That was because the spell needed
power to escape the confines of the earth that had harbored it for so long.

As she ceased her incantation, a small bubbling fountain made its way to the
surface. Neither large nor small, a pool collected. Though it seemed friendly,
she felt it prudent to step away for though she had received reassurances from
the Ladies that she would be safe, one never took chances. She hoped that when
she called, they would come. The only prerequisite was that the water be still
and salt-free. Closing her eyes, she sketched two runes. The path her fingers
made seeming to glow in the humid air. As she drew a third rune, she intoned,
"By Moon and Water and Air, I call”.

For a moment nothing happened. Then Tooth whined softly as a mist began to form
above the water. She opened her eyes at his whine to see the Ladies appear as
the mist dissipated.

The runes disappeared as they flowed one into the other – as the Ladies
themselves flowed one into the other. She wondered if they were merely three
aspects of one being or not. The White Ladies signed *We wondered when you
would call. We sensed your need. We are ready to discharge our value.

*There is something in the night air. A smell that humans cannot sense but is
felt by those who can perceive….

*Ask again.

*There is something Old abroad in the night air that I cannot identify. Can you
help me?

The White Ladies seemed to join as one for several minutes. Tooth nudged her
mind.

“Not now. We wait.”

As the Three separated once more, they spoke, *There is that that is here and
not here that we can sense. It is nearly as old as We. It could be a danger to
Us though We are not positive. We would say that you should leave It be or else
you also will dance with It as have so many others. Ask something else. We do
not consider this as payment for the other.

As they started to dissolve, one of the other Ladies came toward her. *I
remember an Old One that may assist.

Mystique was curious as well as surprised. The White Ladies always acted as one
rather than as individuals. Maybe they were indeed different beings. She didn’t
have long to wonder for the other two merged with the last speaker. Soon they
separated again.

*We remember now. There is an Old One that may help. And we can give you the
means to call if you seek to continue. It is a danger to you though not a
danger to Us. The danger would be less for you because he would not require
payment in kind. He also seeks something. But there is much that is hidden
from us. Our ways are not his ways.

Mystique could understand that. Possibly the differences were similar to those
between witchcraft and voodoo – differing aspects of the same arts.

*No, they signed, as if reading her thoughts. *The ‘difference’ is more. He
comes from a time when we were not. He should not even exist though he does.
That is a danger we sense. We know his True Name, however. That is what will
draw him to you and keep you safe for a time. And if you maintain safe wards,
you will survive.

Mystique nodded and briefly entered the summoning range, bowed and stepped
clear. With the Name and call, she began to sketch another rune.

*Wait. There is more. He must be called soon. Not this night because he is not
near. After the Moon next rises perhaps he will come. Not before. And none of
what We have Answered will count toward the three favors. That is because the
danger will be no more to Us if you can resolve this smell.

The mists again formed as Mystique continued the ritual. Tooth whined once more.

“Yes, they’re gone. And now I suppose you want something to eat?”

Tooth smiled once and padded toward the cemetery exit.

***************************************************************************

Something called to him - something ancient but also near. Should he
heed this calling or not? In the dim rememberings of the past, he
recognized the call as something he had heeded before. But it was so
long ago that he had forgotten what it was or why it called. The remembering
evoked once more the loneliness that shrouded his mind. Zephyrs had brought
that sound to him oh so long ago. Ignored once he had and the Curse was the
result. Perhaps….

**************************************************************************

“So it went well, Daughter?” Sonya asked with a chuckle in her question.

“’Different’ is more what I think. The Ladies didn’t seem to know whatever this
‘smell’ was,” Mystique responded taking another sip of herbal tea.

“They follow a different path from ours. Though near enough to the dryads, -
though the dryads are older - knowing different winds and moons that we don’t
always see. However, they have a deeper knowledge of things that go bump in the
night.”

“You just think that the Wiccans have stolen that which is ours.”

“Where’d you come from with that? Sounds like something Ripper would think up.”

“Ripper?”

“My latest find. I forgot that you’ve never met. I’ll give you his address
later. Found him wondering around in Jackson Square looking for voodoo candles.
He’s one crazy guy. Very likable even though he drinks too much. But his
intuitiveness for the craft is quite good.

“Oh, by the way, someone else is coming today. In fact I expect her soon. She
surprised me with a phone call yesterday soon after you’d left. Seems she’s
familiar with this ‘smell’ thing and knew something was up here. Or else she
wanted just to visit. Anyway, she’ll be….”

As if cued, there was a knock at the door. Soon Sonya returned with a smaller
woman. Mystique recognized her at once. She exuded a presence wherever she
turned up. And Mystique hadn’t seen her in a long time. Hugging each other
hard, the two parted.

Still holding her by the shoulders she looked at the younger witch. “Well,
Mystique, I see you’ve changed some. Gotten older - and wiser perhaps?”

“Naw, she hasn’t, Cheryl,” Sonya said stirring her tea. “She’s keeping a
demon-familiar. One day it’ll turn and all that work I did will all go down
some demon’s throat.”

“Hummm. You’ve changed more than I expected. A familiar I could understand.
But a demon? Chancy at best.”

“Tooth and I have made a pact, Cheryl. Sonya just doesn’t like it that Tooth
looks so much like one of her own pups.”

“’Pups’ indeed. It’s a demon. They never make compacts. They’re from the
netherworld. There is no dealing with those beings.”

“Perhaps not. But I remember several centuries ago when one could do exactly
that. And some demons with Power still prefer to deal with select humans. But
its been a long time since I’ve seen that. Bring him by if you can, Mystique.
I speak their infernal language.

“Now let us speak of this ‘smell’ thang. It was the reason I called earlier and
the reason I came in the first place.”

“I first noticed it a couple of nights ago. It was dank and smelled like death
warmed over. Tooth noticed it also. But we only sensed it at night and
fleetingly as if it was passing by rather than making a home here.”

“Tooth? Your demon-familiar? Not surprising. Demons can sense a lot of things
humans – or sensitives - can’t.”

“That’s not all. I met with the White Ladies.”

“Danger on danger, I see. And what worthwhile things did you get from them?”

“They also sensed the smell and perceived it as a threat to themselves.”

“Little could harm them. Continue….”

“They said that the smell was caused by an Old One. I believe that only Water
Sprites and such would bother them. Initially I suspected a dryad. Now I’m not
as sure. Perhaps they sensed a succubi. I’m not that familiar with water
creatures in general but perhaps you and Sonya are. Also they said that an Old
One could be summoned. He would willingly – or perhaps reluctantly – assist me
– us. And they gave me his calling card and his name.

“They named him, ….”