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Rosemary is for remembrance.
“Intention is what feeds magic. The desire to have something done and then increasing the chances that it will happen, all through our intention.” She hands the herb to me so I can study its leaves.
“Sage for wisdom. Dried rose petals for love. Thyme, parsley, oregano. All things that can be found in any kitchen. Write this down, Hecate.”
The Duties of a Hedge Witch Though she will exist on the boundaries of society and coven alike, a hedge witch’s role is a vital one. A source of healing, sanctuary, and hope, she is to offer shelter, aid, and an ear to those who need it.
“Do you need dry clothes? Pajamas?” I ask. His sweater and shirt are bone dry, but his pants are soaked below the knee. “No, I don’t wear clothes when I sleep,” he says, his grin lighting up the darkness. He is trying to get a rise out of me again. “How interesting. Neither do I,” I shoot back quickly,
“I’ll do anything you require of me.”
“I’m sorry you were kept away from something you loved,” I say. Matthew stares at me strangely, as if confused by my sympathy.
“Hedge craft, first and foremost, is the balance between life and death energies. A hedge witch is guardian to the living and the dead alike.”
“But why fix it?” I ask. My hand trembles as I run my fingers over the pumpkin’s rind. He cocks his head as if the answer should be obvious. “Because it’s precious to you,” he says.
A raven-haired wizard in the woods discovers his forest is dying. First, the leaves all fall off their branches at the height of summer. Then the flowers on the forest floor wither away. Death seeps out from rotten stumps and consumes any living thing within reach. The wizard knows it is only a matter of time before Death comes for the local village. He finds a medicine woman who knows the forest as well as he does. They believe their combined powers might be enough to defend their lands. Binding themselves together, they intertwine their magic and forge a talisman meant to beat back the
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So long as the medicine woman lived, the wizard was able to walk half the year among the living, though he brought Death and Winter with him. But when her time came and she herself passed into the land below, he became trapped forever.”
“I can’t compel living people. Has the possibility that I have a natural charm ever occurred to you?” I think for a few seconds. “No,” I answer simply, knowing full well it’s a lie.
Matthew’s blue eyes meet mine as he considers. “Home,”
I’m not crying, YOURE crying
I’ve revisited that cottage many times in my mind. And in my dreams,” he says after a pause.
HE LOWKEY IS SAYING THAT HE DREAMS OF HERRRRR
“I’ve got you. You’re safe. I won’t let him take you from me,” he whispers.
My phoenix salve—made especially for burns and cuts.
Oh shit. Because her feet were burned. Because that was real, not a dream. Because she’s fucked lolololol
Every surface—the coffee table, my writing desk, the windowsill with my crocheted figurines—all are covered in jack-o’-lanterns.
IF HE WANTED TO HE WOULDDD
“You’re not my guardian.” His eyes flash up to mine with such surprising sorrow that I immediately stop laughing. “Aren’t I, though?” he asks softly, more to himself than to me. Inside that confounding question there is so much regret and remorse that I can hardly decipher it.
“Shadow Walk?” It’s the second time I have heard him use that phrase. “It’s the ability to travel long distances quickly by crossing through the veil and back.” I shake my head. “I never knew such a power was possible.” “It’s rare. The only magics that utilize it are shadow and … hedge.” He looks up at me warily.
No true book witch goes to bed before three.
Real
The receptionist’s eyes dim in disappointment after a moment, once he sees Matthew’s hand grasping mine. I blush and try to pull away, but Matthew tightens his grip ever so slightly. Not so much a command as an invitation. I let my hand settle into his, enjoying the warmth.
The vial Margaret left me in the mangrove box with her unused tins of Hawthorne balm. Water of the River Styx.
I recognize the eyes and smile of the final sketch: my father.
“You look beautiful,” he says, his eyes sweeping over my face, my hair, my dress.
“What?” I ask. “You look lovely in the starlight,” he says simply, his voice low and quiet.
“It’s not your job to protect me,” he says in a low whisper, as his fingers brush softly against my skin. We stare at each other for a moment. I lift both my hands to his arm and slowly unbutton the cuff of his sleeve. He looks on curiously as I push the crisp white shirt and jacket sleeve up, revealing the now faded copper scar. I run my fingers along the edge of where the adhesive has healed into his skin. It’s smooth and cold, like a vein in a marble statue. “Isn’t it, though?” I ask, looking back at him.
SCREAMING I love a mirrored moment
“I think the whole world might have rearranged itself.” I shake my head and laugh, embarrassed. But Matthew cups my chin with one of his hands and lifts my gaze to his. “I know exactly what you mean,” he says softly, “because mine rearranged years ago.”
For now, I just want to exist in this moment. This moment in which I simultaneously know I love him and know he has loved me for a third of my life.
“I’m not as delicate as you think I am,” I say with a huff. “It’s not about you being delicate.” He grins. “It’s about preventing any discomfort on your part whatsoever. For my own pleasure and peace of mind.” “That’s a fool’s task,” I grumble. “Discomfort is part of life.” “Then a fool I shall be.” He leans down and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek
“Miranda knows the Siren doesn’t work on men who are already in love,”
My mother’s Better Than Anything Ultimate Halloween Birthday Cake. She only ever made it for me on my thirteenth and eighteenth birthdays, since it was such a labor. Layers of chocolate apple spiced cake with bittersweet ganache between them, an absolute slathering of peanut butter frosting, and salted caramel drizzle on top for a final flourish.
Nah that’s too much for me and I am a sweets person. Apple spice chocolate? With peanut butter???? And ganache??? AND CARAMEL TOO? This is two cakes in one
“That is so not the vibe I got from him,” she says with an eye roll. “I still can’t believe he would just leave you.” “Celeste,” I say, my voice rising, “he literally confessed to being an agent of the King Below and then disappeared into a puff of smoke in front of me.”
This made me laugh
“Are you certain he left willingly?”
NOOOOO DONT SAY THAT
“She has entered into sacred contract and will never utter words of what has transpired, lest she be reaped.” The words from my mother’s Grimoire come to my mind. Perhaps Matthew was held under a similar contract. He had said there were things he couldn’t physically tell me. Is that what he had meant?
NOOOOOOOO HE SAID HE LOVED HER AND THEY DRAGGED HIM TO HELL FOR IT???
“The coven decided not to waste an evening of celebration.” I blink. “They’re partying?”
lmaoooo
“I will be your hedge witch,” I whisper to him. His smile is so brilliant that my heart aches.
Tiny letters are inscribed on the blade of the key. H. G. My initials. “To prove I am yours just as you are mine. Partners in guarding the veil. Gate and Key.” he whispers
“To tell you I love you more than life would be a heretical understatement,” he whispers.
