Chapter 8 The Highest Mountain in the World
The little witch had visited Kathmandu before. It wasn’t her first time. But she had never gone to visit Mount Everest. After 10 minutes of flying she covered the 100 miles to the base of the mountain. She slowed the broom down and began her ascent by starting around the mountain in a big circle. She wanted to go slowly and really take in the shape and size of the mountain and it’s different features. It was huge.
And it was covered with snow. She noticed the main path that went up the mountain side and circled around it’s way up to the top. At least she assumed it went to the top. She couldn’t really see because the top of the mountain was not visible. There was a layer of thick clouds that swirled around about midway up the mountain. She flew directly into them on the way up to the peak. She planned to have a little rest there using her wool sweater to protect from the cold.
Once she entered the clouds she realized how thick they were, and that she couldn’t see more than 5 feet ahead of her. So she slowed down and went carefully. She gave all her attention to orienting herself to keep a certain distance between herself and the side of the mountain. She didn’t want to get too close and crash into it. While her attention was focused on that she also became aware of the sound of air rushing through a wingspan of feathers. She looked up in time to see a dark shape hurtling towards her at an incredible speed. She darted to the right just missing the talons of a bird of prey about ten times her size.
In an instant she assessed what it was. It was an eagle called the Golden Eagle, which could be found in Nepal also near the base of the mountain, and it was a very aggressive hunter. And it had identified her as its prey. It was an unfortunate situation for the eagle because if it succeeded in capturing her it wouldn’t take more than one bite to realize it had made a mistake. But of course by that time it would be too late for the little witch. She thought to herself, “Add the Golden Eagle to the list of animals who can see me.”
Memories of previous instances of being hunted by birds of prey came to her. What she often did that was very effective was create an image of herself as the bird’s predator. With the use of her wand she could easily project that image into the bird’s mind and often it had an immediate effect. The bird would simply turn around and fly away.
This bird was pretty high up the food chain however, and didn’t have any natural predators as an adult bird.
It was not a common problem for witches. It was only because of her diminutive size that she appeared as food for the larger birds. So to compensate she had done plenty of research on birds of prey and their predators, and that’s how she knew this one had no predators.
She heard that sound again of the wind rushing through the eagle’s wingspan and knew the big bird was coming around for another attack. The little witch did not want to hurt this beautiful specimen of the wilderness but she needed to stop these attacks.
She suddenly remembered a different strategy that had been quite successful in similar situations. She drew her wand and in half a second had focused it on the attacking eagle while she whispered the spell. Instantly the spell projected the experience of being sprayed by a skunk into the poor eagle’s mind. The Eagle stopped on a dime turned around and flew in the other direction. In 30 minutes the effects of the spell would wear off.
Chapter 9 – Inner Space
She continued her flight up the mountain side and realized this was no ordinary mountain. It was so huge it had its own separate climates in various different parts. She continued to fly up the side of the mountain until the air was so thin it became a challenge to get enough in each breath. That was one of the main challenges of anyone who decided to scale this mountain. She had an advantage because she was plugged in a little more directly to the earth’s energy.
With no more mishaps she arrived at the top. She parked the broom, got out her little sitting mat and chose a spot that was still in the sun to sit down. She allowed the rhythm of this unique spot on earth to work on her. She closed her eyes and listened, allowing the silence to penetrate her deeply. There was a slight wind which only deepened the silence.
Her main experience was becoming more and more aware of the immense space around her. She became aware that there was a corresponding space as large and vast inside her. She put on her wool sweater. She was toasty warm in the frigid environment. Because of all of the salt in a witch’s body they are less affected by cold weather. When salt is present in water the point at which it freezes becomes colder. The more salt, the lower the temperature it needs to freeze.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to disappear into the stark silent landscape. When she finally woke again she had lost track of the time. She felt completely silent inside, as if she were floating, completely connected to the Earth, but floating above it at the same time.
A cup of hot tea appear to float before her. She took the hint and decided to fly back down and get one more hot tea before heading back home. She packed up and hopped on the broom and started down the mountainside. She didn’t encounter any obstacles and she arrived at one of the tea shops that populate the base of the mountain. Using the same spell as she used in Kathmandu she made herself appear as a normal sized human and got another cup of that amazing spice tea called chai.
She sat dreamily drinking her chai with her eyes half closed and slipped into an altered state, partially from the effect of this amazing Mountain. And partially because of the change of the amount of oxygen in the air for the last three hours. When she opened her eyes she saw a clock on the wall, and when she allowed what she was seeing to actually penetrate her consciousness she put the chai down and started running. She was late. Really late. Where had the time gone?
She did what she normally wouldn’t do which was simply break the spell without looking who could see her. She didn’t have time now. She jumped on the broom, checked to make sure everything was tied down, checked for her wand, shouted “AWAY!”, and turned the dial up to 10. She hoped the sweater would stay on.
She’s streaked across the sky like a meteor. She enjoyed a challenge but she had let this situation go too far. Still this inner space of bliss that she had experienced on that mountain top… Well she wouldn’t trade that for anything. She gained a bit more altitude and in 10 or 15 seconds was a good 5 miles above the Earth’s surface. She never really pushed the broom to its limit because the Earth’s atmosphere was so full of debris that that kind of speed was quite dangerous. But she just turned her intuitive sensing up as high as possible and hoped for the best. Pedal to the metal.
Chapter 10 – A Grim Encounter
The little witch was speeding towards her flower, painfully aware of how late it was. The sunset was intense and beautiful, the last of the sun’s rays creating long strangely shaped shadows. Normally she’d be taking time out to appreciate it. But now she had only one concern and that was getting home before it was not possible to enter her flower.
The light from the sunset was still intense and she was flying right into it at top speed. As she approached it appeared to her that there was a gap in the petals that she could use to enter the flower, so she sped up to go through. But it was a play of light that misled her: the flower was completely closed! As she was going too fast to stop she bounced off the flower, lost control and landed squarley in the little pond, breaking the stem of the flower! Kersplash.
Not good. It was freshwater. The little witch was completely submersed and took in a lung full of water as well.
Really not good. What happened in the next ten minutes came fast and furious.
She immediately felt the shock of the fresh water and realized the clock was ticking now. She would need to get that water off her body and get to a salt water immersion to counteract the effects within ten minutes or so. If she couldn’t manage that she would very likely lose consciousness and then it would just be a matter of hours and she’d be gone.
The water of the pond wasn’t deep but it was over her head. She swam towards the side of the pond and grabbed at the mud to pull her self out. It was like swimming in acid. The motion of her swimming and splashing through the water made her condition worse, but there was nothing to do for it. She crawled as best she could up the slippery side of the bank and flopped on the side of the pond gasping for breath.
How could she have misjudged the reentry so badly? Well she’d never arrived back to find the flower closed. She hadn’t kept track of the time accurately enough.
She realized with horror that her wand was not with her. She looked into the pond where she just came from to see if she could spot it at the bottom. She couldn’t really see because her action of swimming had stirred up the mud. She glanced at the other bank of the pond and tried to peer into the brush and plants of the garden to see if she could spot it. But no luck. She was locked out of her flower, without her broom, without her wand, covered with poisonous freshwater from head to foot. She really had no idea what to do.
To make matters worse she looked up at where her flower used to be and her heart sank even further. The cat had arrived and was sniffing around the stem of her flower. The stem had broken from the impact and the flower was hanging by a thread. No safe refuge, no more home, she was on her own now.
The splashing that she had made swimming out of the pond had attracted the cat. The cat strolled around the side of the Pond as if he sensed there was going to be something of great interest there. With no wand she was completely at his mercy. She could get up and try to run but where would she run to? She stayed on the ground where she was next to the pond and waited, clinging to her spotty invisibility. She started shivering.
The cat sat down looking around lazily and also seemed to wait. The little witch got the annoying feeling that it was an interesting game of chess for the cat, and it was just waiting for the next move to become clear. Meanwhile the little witch was painfully aware that the clock was ticking for her.
At that moment the house owner came out of the house carrying a glass of cold white wine and sat down at the table on the deck behind her house. She had a full view of the backyard and the garden and the pond. Bowl of potato chips in one hand, glass of wine in the other, she was going to enjoy the rest of the sunset. In the same moment the cat turned with a furious single pointedness, looked directly at the little witch as if he could see her clearly— and pounced.
The cat landed a little ways from the little witch. He landed with his paws outstretched to cover as much ground in front of him as he could. The little witch had the distinct feeling that he couldn’t see her clearly but he definitely sensed she was there. And he was going to find her. His paws were not with claws retracted. They were the paws of a cat who meant business with all of his talons extended. The cat slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, looked around lazily again as if his attention was taken up elsewhere in the garden. He licked himself for a few seconds and then again turned suddenly towards the little witch, green eyes flashing, and pounced. He landed very close, within a few inches of her.
The little witch was surrendered to the reality that she was going to die today. She was filled with gratitude of all of the beauty she had experienced in her short life of 300 years, which translated to a human life span put her at about 18 years old. She had no regrets except one. She felt it was beneath her to die as the plaything of this stupid, mean cat.
She lay on the ground feeling the life energy ebb away as the freshwater sank deeper into her body. Suddenly she remembered her white rose. She looked down to see if it was still there, her symbol of stylish fearlessness: it was still there! A little worse for wear after a crash landing and dunking in the pond. But as fearless as ever! She held the stem in her fading fingers for as long as she could.
The house owner took a sip of wine, enjoying the sunset. She glanced at the cat playing in the grass, and figured he had caught a little mouse to play with. She took a deep breath and took in the peace of the deep reds and yellows of the sunset. The flower that the little witch lived in always fit beautifully with the sunset colors, and she looked over at the place she usually found it and paused. She didn’t see it. Odd. She watched the cat pounce again but she couldn’t see what he was playing with.
The third pounce and the cat hit paydirt. He found the little witch with his left paw, claws extended and drove one claw right through the little witch’s right leg. She was pinned to the ground. The cat retracted the claws in his right paw and slapped her on the side of the head a couple of times to beat some of the life out of her without drawing blood. It worked, and the pain in her leg became the center of her consciousness. She let out a howl of agony. The cat was delighted.
In the same instant that the little witch howled in pain the house owner sat bolt upright in her chair, every muscle in her body tensed. Something was terribly wrong. She looked at the cat with a furious intensity, then she looked back at the missing flower and saw that the stem had been broken and the flower was hanging upside down. Then she looked back at the cat with a mixture of horror, rage, and terror.
She bolted out of her chair knocking the wine glass over. She didn’t notice. She ran at top speed to the side door of the garage and yanked the door open. She reached inside to where garden tools were stacked against the wall and grabbed a broom. She continued her top speed trajectory to where the cat was romping around on the grass raising the broom above her head as she approached.
The cat was facing away from the house and away from the house owner and didn’t see her coming. The house owner took a position behind the cat at the same time swinging the broom down with all of her strength and yelling at the top of her lungs,
“How DARE YOU!”
THWACK! The broom connected with all of the house owner’s rage squarely on top of the cat’s head. A few of the bristles caught the little witch in passing but her relief at the claw exiting her leg was blessed. The cat, who had not seen any of that coming, was sent sprawling head over paws and took a moment to get up not knowing what had happened.
“To come into MY GARDEN…”
THWACK! Another direct hit on the head.
“And terrorize MY FRIENDS!”
THWACK! Another direct hit. The cat was looking around frantically for an escape route at this point. He started running, overwhelmed by the chaos of the moment, towards the pond and the house owner. He reached the edge of the pond and turned around realizing he was trapped between the water and this towering tornado of rage coming for him. He had never seen so much raw emotion from a human being before. Neither had the little witch who found it terrible and wonderful at the same time. For the cat it was just terrible.
“You stay out of my garden YOU MANGY, “
THWACK!
“ EVIL”
THWACK!
“GOOD-FOR-NOTHING-”
THWACK! — all direct hits. The cat was backed up against the pond and he now turned to face the water and considered jumping. But he couldn’t manage it. Each time he scampered in a new direction to escape, the house owner seemed to anticipate it and the broom came down on him with ever-increasing force. This was getting beyond worrisome. He was starting to fear for his life.
“Or you WON’T LIVE”
THWACK! — direct hit.
“TO SEE ANOTHER DAY!”
And with that instead of raising the broom over her head she raised it to the side over her left shoulder resembling one of the baseball players at bat in Yankee Stadium. She swung the broom with an awful force that caught the cat full in the chest, lifted him off the ground and sent him flying about 10 feet through the air. He landed and rolled three times before he gained his paws and with a limping run high-tailed it back to his owner’s back yard.
He hid under the backyard deck and didn’t come out for two days. He never set a paw in the house owner’s yard again. In fact he avoided human beings altogether from then on. They were too dangerous. When he was seen at a distance his head seemed attached to his body at a weird angle and he walked with a permanent limp. He had no more appetite for hunting much less playing with what he stalked. Both cats and dogs avoided him.
Chapter 11 – Writings in Salt
The house owner watched the cat limp off. She had never liked that cat. It belonged to a grumpy rather mean neighbor, an old man that never spoke to her unless it was to complain about something. She had seen the cat playing with small animals, mice and birds, before eating them, which is a natural instinct for most cats that hunt. But this particular cat seemed to have an mean side to it. She wasn’t sure why she thought so, she just did.
For several years she toyed with the idea of a little fairy living in her garden. She enjoyed the little play she had with her self of imagining a little fairy or a small spirit of some sort making her garden it’s home. Or maybe a small witch. That was an odd concept, but a few years back she’d had a dream.
It was a vivid dream, in which she watched a small witch dressed in black and riding a broom flying over her garden and settling in a large red flower there. The morning after the dream she went out to her garden and found a large red flower exactly the same as what appeared in her dream. She had a strangely comforting and at the same time unsettling feeling upon discovering that flower. She didn’t give it too much energy, but upon occasion she would look at that red flower and imagine a small witch living in it. She very much enjoyed that feeling. She made sure each year that she planted a flower in exactly the same spot that would bloom with such a red flower.
She took a moment to gather herself and assess the situation. She then realized she had to communicate with the little being living in her garden.
Accompanying that thought was a crowd of different emotions seeming to pull her in different directions. At the very top was a feeling of danger. What if people found out she was talking to spirits? What would they think? Following fast on that feeling was the feeling of doubting herself. She figured it was one thing to indulge a childish fantasy that was fun: a small adventurous spirit who made it’s home in her garden. But now she was crossing the line between a childish fantasy and reality. She wasn’t sure she was ready to do that.
When she was sitting at the table with her glass of wine an uneasy feeling of danger had grown inside of her. She had no idea why but she was troubled seeing the cat playing in the garden. It added to her feeling of danger. Suddenly when she saw the red flower broken in the garden and noticed how the cat was playing seemingly with thin air she got a very clear premonition that she needed to get rid of that critter. Without delay. It had been very clear what she needed to do. And she did it. Now the next step wasn’t so clear.
In the end she had to trust her intuition entirely and let go of her misgivings. So she simply said out loud, “What do you need now?” She felt a bit strange talking to the empty yard but she was determined to follow through. She knew that normally she couldn’t see or hear this little being, but what just took place was not normal circumstances. She thought for a moment. What did she know?
She figured she knew that if this little being was living in a flower it’s pretty small. She also knew that normally she couldn’t see or hear it. How could she communicate?
She thought, “I should get a pencil and paper and maybe we could write notes to each other…”
But then she realized that for someone really small lifting a pencil would be too much. She calmed her mind and waited for an idea to come. Then she thought, “a toothpick. Perfect. A toothpick in the dirt. She can scratch out a message.”
Then she found herself thinking of salt… Even better.
She said out loud, “I’ll be right back. “
She ran to the house, picked up a paper plate from the kitchen and sprinkled some salt on the plate. She grabbed a toothpick and ran back outside again, putting the plate with the salt on it on the ground where she had just left.
Meanwhile the little witch was poised on the edge of unconsciousness. She had dropped off when the house owner went for the salt and barely woke again when the house owner returned. She looked at the plate that had the salt on it and was encouraged. But it was about a foot and a half from where she had fallen, and that was just too much of a distance to cover in her condition. She was fading fast, and unconsciousness seemed preferable to the screaming pain in her leg.
Intuiting the problem the house owner said again, “I’ll be right back,” and ran back to the house to get more salt and toothpicks. She returned and spread salt gently in a 3 foot radius on the ground. Then she sprinkled toothpicks around so that every two or 3 inches there was a toothpick sitting in the salt. Then she waited.
As a result there was a toothpick right in front of the little witch and a little pile of salt. The little witch first rubbed some salt into the wound in her leg. That felt delicious and gave her a bit more strength. Then she lifted the toothpick in front of her and used all of her strength to write in the salt the words “salt bath.”
The house owner saw the words form in the salt and tears sprang from her eyes. She murmured under her breath “oh my God it’s true. I knew it.” She struggled for composure and asked, “ you want a salt bath for your wounds?”
She saw the letter Y for yes form.
With renewed energy she told the little witch to move onto the plate and she would bring her inside and prepare a salt bath. So the house owner brought the plate inside, then got one of the bigger coffee mugs, filled it with lukewarm water and put salt in it. Then she lifted the paper plate to the edge of the cup so that the little witch could slide in. Which she did, clothes and all.
The relief she felt was immediate and profound. There was no magnesium in the mixture but that could come later, the main thing was the salt. Her body started repairing itself immediately. She knew that the damage she sustained was going to take time to repair but her gratitude towards the house owner was something new, unique, and such a surprise. It gave her hope.
Meanwhile there was one or two other things that needed attention besides her body. She had lost her wand and she needed to do everything she could to get it back. She could easily stay in that salt bath all day. But she was determined to do something about recovering her wand, so she climbed out of the cup and dropped onto the table on top of an old napkin which helped break her fall onto the table. She winced but it was bearable. The house owner had left her alone mumbling something about giving her her privacy. But now she needed her attention.
Someone had left some coins on the table. With the infusion of strength that came from the salt bath she managed to hobble over to the small pile of coins and push one over the edge of the table so it clattered onto the floor. Sure enough within about 15 seconds the house owner came rushing in to see what the matter was. She saw the coin on the floor and looked at the table and realized immediately she’d been called.
She picked up the paper plate that had the salt on it and put it back on the table in the middle. She put a new layer of salt on the plate and a fresh toothpick right next to it. Sure enough within a few seconds the toothpick started to move! It took her breath away, she just couldn’t get used to it. She watched the toothpick move through the salt leaving behind the words,
“Wand in pond. Size:” Then the toothpick was placed next to the word size.
The house owner looked at the words and thought about what that indicated about her guest. She was consumed with curiosity and couldn’t help but ask, “Is it a magic wand? Are you a little witch?” She immediately felt she was intruding on the little being’s privacy, but there it was. The question was asked.
The little witch felt a wall of protection go up around her. Revealing that information in the past had cost many thousands their lives. She struggled to stay with her situation as it was in the moment and she considered wisely. Finally she decided to reveal the truth about who she was. She picked up the toothpick and wrote the letter Y- for yes- in the salt.
The house owner said, “so this means you lost your magic wand in the pond?” The letter Y was formed in the salt.
“Ok. Well that’s going to be a challenge to find something that small in the pond. But I’ll give it a try.“ The house owner got up from the table feeling giddy with excitement, but as she was reaching the door she heard another penny drop on the floor. She returned to the plate of salt and watched the words form.
“Tonight. Moon.”
The house owner repeated what she thought the meaning was, “so you want to look for the wand tonight when the moon is up. Is that correct?“
The letter Y appeared.
The house owner said, “Well, that’s not what I would recommend but OK. “
Another thought occurred to her concerning this little being’s future… The house owner asked out loud,
“How were you using the flower?”
The toothpick floating above the salt spelled, “Home.”
What was she going to use as her home now? It was mid summer so she could plant another flower in the garden to take the place of the one that broke. It would probably take two weeks to bloom and be the right size to accommodate her. If she stayed two weeks in the house the house owner would be fine with that. But making sure the boys didn’t find anything like words mysteriously appearing in salt was another matter.
The house owner asked, “do you want another flower house?“
She patiently watched the salt. The letter Y slowly appeared.
The house owner again felt a wave of the feelings that were unfamiliar to her, and yet familiar at the same time. Tears came to her eyes and she realized one of the things she felt was incredibly touched to be chosen by this spirit, witch, faerie, whatever she was. She had chosen her garden to live in. Without knowing why, she felt deeply honored. She felt somehow that this meeting was going to change her life. Ways of being and feeling and experiencing that she had never encountered before or perhaps just dreamed of were becoming available to her through this meeting. It was a portal into a different reality, one governed by magic.
She saw this flood of thoughts and feelings and thought to herself, “Wo girl. Slow down. Let’s take this slow and easy. We don’t actually know what this all means.“ But she was left with an unmistakable feeling that suffused her whole body. The only word that came close to describing it was: magic.
Chapter 12 – A Midnight Experiment
The time neared to retrieve the wand. The night happened to be a full moon night, which the little witch was very grateful for. She needed a full moon and a surrogate wand to enable the spell that would return her wand to her. She had prepared with the help of the house owner. She decided that half of a toothpick would be just about the right size for the surrogate wand. But there was no way even if she was completely healthy that she was going to break one of those toothpicks in half. So midway through the afternoon she emerged from her salt bath and requested magnesium powder. She also requested a half a toothpick by writing in the salt,
“1/2 TP”
The house owner was confused. She could only fit “toilet paper” to the cryptic message of TP and asked out loud,
“You need toilet paper for tonight?”
She watched as the toothpick which had been laid to rest at the edge of the plate was dragged slowly to the center of the plate. The house owner was still puzzled.
“You want a toothpick?” It didn’t make sense she had one now. “You want a second toothpick?” she asked re reading the cryptic message. Suddenly she blurted out,
“You want half of a toothpick?!”
She watched, pleased, as the letter Y was slowly engraved in the salt. The house owner immediately took one of the toothpicks close by, broke it in half, and put it close to the edge of the plate where she figured the little witch was sitting. She asked out loud, “How’s that? Will that do?”
Another Y formed in the salt.
“You have everything you need?”
The little witch was encouraged with the communication but she was starting to tire. She gathered her strength to write one more instruction. The words, “Must be on deck table midnight” formed painstakingly slowly but clearly.
The house owner repeated, “You need to be on the deck table outside at midnight? “ The letter Y appeared.
“OK I will put you on the deck table outside at midnight. With your toothpick and plate of salt.”
The house owner felt a thrill spread through her body and reverberate up and down her spine. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise slightly. She was going to witness a magic ritual at full Moon at midnight.
The little witch needed the surrogate wand because she was going to cast a spell on her wand in order to make it appear. And in order to cast a spell she needed a substitute wand. A witch’s wand will not accept any magic spells put upon it, except by the witch who owns the wand. Conditions were good but not ideal. To prepare the surrogate wand properly she would’ve needed to leave it out in the Moonlight for the seven days leading up to the full moon. But she didn’t have time, the full moon was that night and every day that went by without her wand in her possession she was at risk.
What she was going to attempt was to magnify not only the earth’s energy but combine it with the full moon energy and use the surrogate wand to cast that energy like a net. The net would seek out her wand and her wand would seek her out. The surrogate wand was just a placeholder. The moon’s energy was needed to make up the difference and add the extra oomph that was needed to cast the spell. The unknown for the Little witch was that normally it required a burst of energy from the witch to make a spell through a surrogate wand work and the little witch was not sure how much energy she could muster.
Normally if she had lost or misplaced her wand she would just go looking for it. Sooner or later it would be found because it was her wand and the wand wanted to be found. But now it was probably lying at the bottom of the pond of freshwater and that changed things. She had to keep her distance until it was rinsed clean with salt water.
At 11:45 pm the house owner came and asked the little witch, “Are you ready?”
A “Y” formed in the salt.
“Ok. Wait there.”
With that the house owner picked up the plate of salt and the toothpick that she had broken in half. She brought those out and placed them on the table on the deck. She went back inside and picked up the salt bath and brought it out to the deck table. She went back inside and announced to the now empty looking table, “Time for your ride out to the deck table.“
The house owner got one more paper plate and put it on the table and waited. She watched the paper plate move and bend slightly as the little witch transferred her weight onto it, and she knew she was sitting there waiting. She very carefully picked the plate up being sure to keep it level and brought it out to the deck table where she put it down gently.
After a moment the words, “no talking, “appeared in the salt.
As 12 o’clock midnight arrived the little witch picked up the surrogate wand in her right hand and started moving it very subtly and slowly pointing it towards the pond. She lifted her left hand palm up towards the moon. The house owner saw the half of a toothpick floating and bobbing above the plate where the little witch was standing. She didn’t know what to expect.
If the house owner could’ve seen what the little witch was seeing she would’ve seen a thin gossamer web-like net that was spreading from the surrogate wand through the air and touching down just beyond the pond. After about a minute of spreading the net it was complete. The little witch made a half step backwards and very gently tossed the surrogate wand in the air and it landed on top of the gossamer net where it stuck. She was talking inaudibly under her breath the whole time, chanting the spell which combined the Earth energy with the moon’s energy and directed the mixture through the 1/2 toothpick substitute wand.
She felt positive about the progress, at the same time feeling hesitant. Casting a spell was like baking a cake in a way. The ingredients needed for the desired effect were listed very specifically in the spell. If you changed any of the ingredients you made the spell something slightly different, and you could never be sure what it would produce. It was common knowledge for witches that introducing a surrogate wand into the spellcasting was introducing just such an uncertainty. There were several stories of witches casting spells with a substitute wand which resulted in a hatburn. So the practice was not recommended.
The Little witch reached out with her index finger and touched the bottom of the surrogate wand that was standing vertically in the air and lifted it up ever so slowly taking the gossamer net with it. Then her finger stopped but the wand did not stop floating upwards. So far so good. The toothpick wand kept floating upwards and as the house owner watched she realized this was where the magic really started. After it was about 6 feet in the air above the deck table she fancied she could see a thin stream of silver light from the moon connecting with the toothpick wand.
Up and up the surrogate wand floated until it was difficult for the house owner to keep track of where it was. But it wasn’t difficult for the little witch. She had it firmly in her sight, and she also was watching very carefully the space above the pond. The little piece of toothpick continued floating upwards until it was about 20 feet in the air. A little crease of worry appeared on the little witch’s forehead as she would’ve expected her wand to resurface already. But just then as if on cue up floated her wand, silver looking in the moonlight, out of the pond.
Very slowly it broke the surface of the water and floated up at about the same rate that the surrogate wand was floating upwards. The little witch was pleased with the progress of the spell so far.
She slowly and slightly bent her index finger as if beckoning her wand to her. She checked her energy level and knew that she was pressing her luck, but had a good feeling for how it was progressing. She expected her wand to very slowly and elegantly float over to the table where she would beckon it to simply land. But as she beckoned, it seemed to get a little stuck. The Little witch beckoned it again and watched with slight alarm. Her wand didn’t move towards her, but rather it trembled in mid air as if it wanted to move but couldn’t.
The little witch was slightly concerned and wondered if the problem was the use of the surrogate wand that had not been prepared properly. Well there was nothing for it now she needed this experiment to complete. She moved her whole hand from the wrist upwards as she waved her wand towards her, saying two words of an ancient language belonging only to witches. Roughly translated they were the commands, “Here, Now!”
What happened next caught them both off guard. Her real wand broke free of the energy net, pointed itself directly at the little witch and flew with lightning speed from where it was over the pond to the deck table. It then behaved as if it wasn’t sure what to do next, as it danced a little dance in front of the little witch before dropping down onto the table with a clatter. The little witch was a bit taken aback. The house owner let out a little squeak of surprise and wondered if it was all going OK. But the main thing was it worked. Her wand lay quivering slightly on the table in front of her.
The little witch wrote in the salt, “put wand in bath. “ She didn’t want to touch it until it was thoroughly rinsed with salt water. The house owner started to comply, and reached her hand out to take the wand and put it in the salt water bath. The wand started bouncing up and down on the table as if it were restless and uncomfortable making it impossible to grasp. The little witch looked extremely sternly at it and it calmed down again, and allowed the house owner to pick it up and put it in the salt bath.
The little witch wrote in the salt, “thank you. “
The house owner said out loud, “you’re welcome.”
The house owner then asked, “do you want to go inside now? “
The words, “stay here” formed in the salt. The house owner raised her eyebrow but just accepted that at face value. As far as the little witch was concerned, now that she had her wand back she had no fear of remaining outside whoever might show up. The little witch glanced in the salt bath and fancied she saw her wand bobbing and dipping up and down as if enjoying a swim in the wonderful salt water.
Chapter 13 – The Little Witch Intervenes
The healing was slow but steady for the Little witch. She ended up staying in the house owner’s home for 2 1/2 weeks, soaking in salt and magnesium baths four to six hours a day. The damage her system had taken from the submersion in freshwater was pretty easily reversed by the salt baths. But she had also taken freshwater into her lungs, that was another story.
And the most challenging to her healing powers was the wound in her leg created by the cat’s claw. Cats and witches have an odd on-again off-again relationship with each other. Cats enjoy witches because they’re so mysterious. And cats enjoy mystery. Witches enjoy cats because there’s something about their eyes that exudes a feminine allure which also seems slightly dangerous. And witches enjoy that. But the whole mutual appreciation thing can really go south sometimes and they can become bitter enemies. It’s one of those weird things about their relationship that nobody figures out.
Since witches have magic, cats instinctively know they need to behave themselves in the presence of that. The little witch’s emergency had come from the fact that she lost her wand. It was the first time in her life that had ever happened. Losing a wand does not mean you lose all your magic as a witch, but it does mean you can’t cast it anywhere, you can’t project it. So the cat didn’t feel any magic coming from the little witch, and he also simply had a mean streak. He had a habit of torturing animals smaller than himself.
Oddly it wasn’t the little witch who held a grudge against the cat. It was the house owner.
The little witch had always felt a resonance with the house owner. She had always liked her. That liking now changed into a deeper bond. The house owner had not only saved the little witch’s life, but she cared for her recovery also. The little witch was not aware of any other time in witch history that had happened. It was the first time she’d seen a human being with that much resonance for magic. It made it much easier to let her guard down around the house owner.
After several weeks of daily salt and magnesium baths the little witch was mostly healed. The wound in her leg had improved, but was still not 100%. The little witch had a feeling it might never totally heal. Her wand was back to normal with one exception. If the witch put the wand down somewhere and made as if she was going to leave the wand would float up in the air and follow her.
Meanwhile the flower planted by the house owner had produced a flower even bigger than the original. It was an upgrade. The Little witch moved her few things back in. She immediately felt right at home.
It happened that the house owner’s youngest son got sick later in the summer. Something went wrong in his lungs and he got an infection which the doctors misdiagnosed. He got the wrong medicine which made it worse. He became quite sick and then critically. A day came when the house owner was absolutely beside herself because her son’s health was simply deteriorating at an alarming rate. No one seemed to know what to do. The infection had spread to other places in his body and he just wasn’t capable of repelling it.
One day the house owner rushed to collect her son and take him to the hospital because it looked like he was fading fast. She was beside herself, her hands trembling, tears streaming down her face. The little witch took the situation in while sitting in her flower and decided to intervene. It wasn’t a decision taken lightly as witches normally don’t intervene in human affairs. But this was different.
Once she decided to take matters into her own hands she wasted no time. She said out loud the command, “HERE” directed at her broom. It obeyed and floated over to her, waiting. She then motioned to her wand, and it shot like an arrow into her hand. She got on the broom and flew to the house owner’s room overlooking the back deck. They kept a plate of salt there for just such a need for communication. Also they kept two or three coins there to get the house owner’s attention if needed.
The little witch landed on the table, dropped a coin on the ground and wrote in the plate of salt, “wait. “
The house owner was rushing out the door with her unconscious son when she heard the coin drop. She glanced at the plate of salt and saw the word “wait” and said out loud with a trembling voice, “I can’t wait I’m in a terrible hurry. “
The little witch wrote quickly the word “sit” in the salt. The woman looked at the plate and yelled,
“Are you joking? Can’t you see he’s deadly sick? He needs care, urgently!”
Then she stopped, staring through her tears at the plate of salt. The word “SIT” appeared a second time. She looked at her unconscious son and then back at the plate and let out a howl of frustration mixed with fear. It took all of her willpower to decide to follow that instruction but she flopped down in the chair with her son limp on her lap saying under her breath, “This had better be good. “ She had a suspicion that none of the doctors at the hospital could help her son anyway.
The little witch proceeded to cast a healing spell that concentrated the earth’s energy 100 times. It was one of the most powerful spells in the witch lexicon. She directed the healing energy through her wand to the house owner’s son. There was a slight crackling sound and a very faint smell of singed bark. The house owner could not see exactly what was happening, but to her it felt like all of the air in the room was sucked out for a moment and everything fell silent. All that could be heard was that faint sound of crackling coming from the wand.
The little witch kept the energy streaming for a good 60 seconds which was a huge dose. The house owner looked down at her son’s face and didn’t know what to make of it. He was clearly still alive but his face had a vacant look, as if he wasn’t in his body. The little witch concluded the incantation and let up the slight pressure she had put on the wand to level it at the boy. After that the air rushed back into the room as did the ambient sounds. The boy sat up, looked at his mother and simply said, “I’m hungry — can I have something to eat?”
Everything went silent again, the house owner seemed frozen in disbelief. Then she broke the silence with a wail of relief, joy, and tears afresh as she hugged her son as if it was the last time. She couldn’t stop crying. She looked at her son and saw the color in his skin returning, and his life energy, and his usual hunger, as well as his usual fidgetiness – he didn’t like being held for too long. She was overjoyed. She threw caution to the wind and asked the salt plate out loud,”Are you doing this?”
The words, “Your trust” appeared in the salt. The house owner revisited that profound feeling of being in the presence of some deeper truth. She realized what a paradox magic is. It has a reputation for creating illusion but her experience was it revealed the truth. She had many questions all of which would have to wait. Her son was back, it was a joyful day.
That event further cemented their relationship which only deepened and mellowed through the years. After about a year the house owner decided she wanted to introduce herself. They had been meeting occasionally when the boys were gone in the summer on the back deck overlooking the yard and garden. The house owner would place a plate of salt and two toothpicks on the table as an invitation. If she saw one of the toothpicks move she knew the little witch had taken up the invitation.
One day when they were both there at the table the house owner said in the direction of the Little witch, “my name is Dee.”
She waited for the answer informing her of the little witch’s name. And waited. After 10 minutes she asked, “ do you also have a name? “
The words, “No name,” appeared in the salt. Dee asked, “you don’t have a name? “
The words, “no name. We don’t have names,“ appeared in the salt.
“Oh, “ Dee said awkwardly. Ten minutes went by and Dee asked,
“Can I suggest a name?”
She saw, “If you like, “ appear.
“Can I suggest Isadora?”
If the little witch was honest she would admit she wasn’t thrilled with the name. Four syllables, it was a bit of a mouthful. In witch culture they didn’t go by names. In fact they didn’t often talk out loud. Normally they relied on telepathy to communicate. Much more efficient. But this was a special situation and required special treatment. So she agreed to the name.
“Ok. “
“That’s wonderful. I love the name Isadora. It belongs to one of the most famous modern dancers, Isadora Duncan, who was a genius choreographer in the last century. A very creative artist who fearlessly flew in the face of tradition. I think it fits you.”
The little witch didn’t know what a modern dancer was, she assumed it was a more recent version of an ancient dancer? She also didn’t know what a choreographer was. But she liked the part about being fearless.
The view of the garden from the deck was beautiful. In one corner there was a rosebush that produced white roses. The little witch appreciated the supply. They both appreciated the summer riot of color the garden produced.