“Should I bow or kiss your ring or anythin’?”
Josie stared at her a moment. Perhaps she needed to know if Gwyneth was sincere. She imagined the woman must take some ridicule from ignorant tourists.
“I’m not bein’ a smart ass or anythin’…”
“We’re all sovereign, Gwyneth. Please come in.” She swept her arm in the direction from which she’d come.
Light-headed, Gwyneth followed Josie into the small room. Sweet smelling incense burned in a brass censor. Crystals decorated the table and a witch cord hung down one wall. Gwyneth had made one and hung it in her kitchen, where she did most of her spells. A nine-foot cord, braided with nine knots, each one holding a symbol of the spell it represented.
The rest of the room was just as fascinating. A portrait of a black cat hung on the back wall. The massive armchair, covered in gold brocade, sat kitty-corner to the left with a hand-painted table in front of it. Whimsical Alice in Wonderland colored ink drawings and a white rabbit statue added to the décor. Gwyneth imagined the tourists knew what Alice felt like in a place like this.
Of all things, a pink Christmas stocking lay against the back of her chair. Seriously? The greatest Wiccans of modern times celebrate Christmas and put a stocking out this early? Maybe it was just a suggestion to the tourists that they could buy their Christmas gifts at the store. They sold everything from jewelry to homemade incense, spell kits and candles.
“Y’all must do a lot of spells.”
“Wicca is an art and a science. As with any art form, practice improves one’s results.”
“Pardon me for sayin’ but I think y’all must be an expert by now.”
Josie smiled. “Living Wicca includes practicing our craft even after it becomes second nature. As long as we’re alive, we don’t have to stop growing.”
Gwyneth nodded slowly. This sage woman seemed like Morgaine in some ways. Maybe she should listen to her cousin a little better in the future.
Josie gathered a few ingredients and laid them on the table. A black candle in the shape of a man, a package of powder labeledVampire Slayer,and some iron nails.
“Have you made a protection potion yet, Gwyneth?”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s the first thing my cousin Morgaine taught me to make for myself. Even with all that iron powder in it, the stuff stays mixed and doesn’t settle to the bottom of the jar. That’s when I knew magic was real.”
“Good. You’ll need to use your protection potion as you would normally to protect yourself while working with any magic, and also on the door as you reseal it against the vampire. Do you know his name?”
“No, ma’am. Even our friend who he’s after don’t know his real name, yet. We just call him Sly’s Maker for now—or A-hole.”
Josie nodded. “That will have to do. If in the meantime, you discover any details like his name or date of birth, etch those on this wax figure.” She handed her the black wax doll.
“I’ve used a doll like this in bindin’ spells. Is that the spell that y’all recommend for a vampire?”
“That and more. Like these iron nails for over your entrance. You can’t overuse protection magic when it comes to vampires.”
Gwyneth shifted uncomfortably. “Now, that brings up an itty-bitty problem.”
Josie cocked her head, listening.
“Our friend Sly—the one we’re protecting…He’s a vampire too.”
“Oh, dear.”
“But he’s a good un.”
“Then it’ll be doubly important to specify on the wax figure exactly who you mean to bind.”
“I understand. Cause if we just said, “Bind the vampire,” the powers that be could get the wrong one.”
“Exactly. It seems as if you’ve learned to word your spells well. Have you ever had one backfire when you worded it incorrectly?”
Gwyneth tried not to laugh remembering some of her early blunders. “Yes, indeedy. I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m from the South.”
Josie smiled and nodded.
