Page 5

After things were as set up as they were going to be until tomorrow night, I went to the kitchen and heated up some of the leftover pumpkin and squash stew that I’d brought along. Pox was already out and about with his friends. When I’d finished heating up my stew, I headed back into the altar room to eat. I didn’t like to eat alone, and I never felt alone inside that room.

I lit a patchouli incense and leaned back against the wall. The little statues on the main altar stared at me. They were carved from wood and painted. One was a black fox, and the other was russet colored. They could’ve been little figurines of any ole fox, except they felt different and their placement in the most important room of the house made it feel as if they were honored.

“Do I descend from you guys?” I asked, leaning in a little closer. “Are you even guys?” Of course, no one bothered to carve genitals on foxes. The black one was half an inch taller than the russet one, but that didn’t mean alpha and omega. Hell, sexual dimorphism was a thing. The little one could’ve been a woman.

“The big one could be the lady and still be the alpha,” my fox chuckled from inside his inner sanctum.

“I think I descend from you guys. If you can hear me, I’m probably either telling you something you already know or making you roll your eyes at my stupidity. I’ve been coming here for years, though. I’ve kept your altar clean either way and while I don’t expect payment, maybe you could help me with my little ritual tomorrow. I mean, if you’re my ancestors that’s easy, right? If not, maybe you could still help me.” I rambled on to the statues telling them all about Liam’s vision and all the reasons I couldn’t ask for more information. I wasn’t sure if they could hear me wherever they were – whoever they were, but it felt nice to tell someone the whole story. The only other living being who knew it was Pox. He liked the secret Halloween adventures to the village, but sometimes I wondered if my familiar grew tired of hearing me talk about my true-mate. If I were him, I might’ve grown tired of my rambling. Some days, I annoyed myself with it. Why couldn’t he just show up already?

I spent the rest of the day wandering around the village and saying hello to old friends. I cleared away some fallen branches and other things that got in the way of the wild foxes. Sure, my parents might eventually figure out it was me keeping the village cleared, but the wild foxes didn’t have thumbs to move things, and it felt selfish not to help them out. What good were my thumbs if I only used them for selfish reasons?

***

The next day was Halloween and I spent it in silent contemplation. Silence wasn’t always required for magic, but working with ancestors always felt like it should be a solemn occasion. After all, I’d be disturbing someone’s peace for a pretty selfish reason. So, I went over and over what I’d ask for and how I’d phrase it. My ancestors weren’t evil witches or little angry fays, but they were foxes and in some cases, they might be more mischievous than the evil witches and the fay.

I didn’t believe they would have bad intentions, but I figured I should be ready for every possibility. The most likely outcome was that nothing at all would happen. Absolutely nothing. That would be the most difficult outcome to accept. That even my ancestors held their tongues when it came to the whereabouts of my alpha. I had to accept that he’d show up when he showed up, but having even an estimated timeframe would improve my mood. I could make a countdown calendar or something.

That evening shortly before sunset, I took a shower and imagined the hot water washing away my stress. I imagined all my lingering negativity washing straight down the drain with the water and suds. When I stepped out, I felt lighter than I had since last Halloween.

“So it begins again,” I sighed.

Pox was already waiting for me inside the altar room. He took up residence there after dinner. At first, I thought he was waiting for me to set out the offerings for them, but he was just lounging on the wooden box that housed the spirit board. Maybe he was already communing with his ancestors. Maybe the familiars of Halloween past could help me if my own ancestors didn’t answer. Either way, walking into the altar room with a mission shortly after full dark, felt more productive than sitting outside and waiting on my elusive true-mate to show up like Pox and I did most Halloweens.

I meditated skyclad for a long few minutes, clearing my mind and setting my intentions. I knew enough to know that one did not touch the actual spirit board until he was focused and had clear intentions. This particular spirit board had been crafted by Uncle Liam himself and because he had the Omega Sight, I was certain that made it more powerful than one you could pick up at only ole occult store.

When I was ready, Pox got off the box and went to sit on his haunches on the other side of it. I made sure all my family and group links were closed tight from my end. Let the others enjoy their Halloween privacy and I’d fully indulge in mine too. I reached for the box and Pox yipped at me. I jerked back like he bit me, but he was right. I had to calm down. I was too excited. I almost forgot to cast the circle.

Casting a magical circle wasn’t strictly protocol for using a spirit board, but a lot of my research suggested it. That way, if someone or something who wasn’t my ancestor came through, I’d at least have a tiny chance of containing it. I also wore the little protective charm Uncle Liam made me years ago. I didn’t expect any evil entities to pop up in the village, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Plus, I wore the little gold fox pendant necklace everywhere I went.

After the circle was cast, my candles lit, and my magical offerings set out, I was ready. I glanced at Pox who nodded at me.

“Thanks for always saving my balls, buddy,” I said as I opened the wooden box.

Inside it was the spirit board wrapped in a soft, black velvet cloth and the little quartz planchette. I took a deep breath and trailed my fingertips over the velvet. It was so soft. I felt sort of guilty using Uncle Liam’s magical supplies without his permission, but I’d come too far not to go through with it now.

“Ready?” I asked Pox.

My familiar nodded at me and I let out a long, slow breath. I was as ready as I’d ever be. I picked up the spirit board and its planchette before closing the box. I unwrapped the board and used the cloth as an improvised ‘table cloth’ over the box before setting the spirit board down.

It was dark wood with the border painted a light blue. The letters and words had been burnt into it and the scorches painted black. It was all sealed with art supplies and magic. The damn thing smelled like Uncle Liam and that made me feel guiltier but also safer. Nothing Uncle Liam crafted was going to summon some unheard of monster from the Other World to gobble me and Pox up, right?

“Ready?” I asked, Pox again.

“Start it at ‘HELLO’,” he said, “but first say your intentions aloud.”

“Tonight, on this holy night of spirits, I reach out to my vulpine ancestors to seek their wisdom and aid in finding my true-mate. I ask that they have mercy upon me and help me bridge the gap between me and my alpha,” I said and my familiar nodded approvingly.

“Ready now?” I whispered to Pox in the candlelight.

He nodded and I placed the planchette on the scorched in ‘HELLO’. Pox shifted forward, half laying down to put a little paw on the planchette.

“Hello?” I echoed the word on the board. “Are any of my ancestors listening tonight?” I asked.

Nothing happened. I asked it again, louder this time. Still nothing.

“Try it in fox,” Pox suggested.

I felt a little like an idiot yipping and making fox noises in my human form, but the candle flames flickered.