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My Weaver. A warmth flushed through me.
Was it odd that it really did feel that way? That some strange man within my dreams felt like he belonged to me? Or odder yet… that I somehow belonged to him?
Returning home, I buried my hands in the garden dirt, harvesting the peppers, beets, and beans I’d need to shell over the next few days. My mind drifted over the information—or lack thereof—I had read in the library today. Not a single book produced anything useful, but the words mind magic kept needling my brain. Could the Weaver be a real person using this type of magic to manipulate my dreams? If so, I had to find out why. Or more specifically… why me?
“Milly, are you back there?” Keelyn’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“Hi, yes. Just beyond the fence.”
Keelyn pushed through the wooden gate, joining me in the garden and bringing with her a welcome reprieve. I needed to focus on something else for a while before I went utterly mad. The mind is a wonderful thing as long as you don’t lose control of it. I chuckled as the words from the old book drifted through my head again.
“What’s so funny?” Keelyn pulled her long silver-blond hair into a ponytail, then bent down to relieve me of the burlap bag I was dumping the beans into.
“Just something I read today that stuck with me.” I tossed another handful of the legumes into the sack.
“Well, I have to say it’s good to see you laugh.” Jiggling the bag to settle the contents, she cinched the top between her hands. “Can I help you inside with these?”
“Yes, thank you. I’ll put on the tea.” I led her inside, thinking about what she said. I supposed she was right—it had been a long time since I felt this joyful. Not that I was unhappy in my life, but as the wheel of the year turned and the seasons repeated, the days could edge toward doldrum. The Weaver’s appearance had brought on something unexpected. Something new and wonderful to look forward to. Something to laugh at and bring a smile to my face.
“Did you not enjoy your books today? I noticed you didn’t check out any of them.” Keelyn dropped the bag of beans on the floor, steadying them against the kitchen cabinet with her leg.
“Oh… I was just doing a little research, but nothing panned out.” I shrugged.
“Really? Is there a certain book you’d like me to order instead?”
Her offer was kind, but I had no idea if one even existed, so I kept my answer vague. “Sure, if you come across any dream-type books that mention the word weaver, that would be great.”
Keelyn tilted her head. She had always accepted how different I was with my solitary ways and soft-spoken oddness, but I never shared my magic with her. With anyone, actually. And as much as I enjoyed her company, I still didn’t feel comfortable doing so now.
“Here’s your batch of peppers.” I shoved a grocery bag of freshly picked sweet peppers into her hand, my oddness striking again.
“Thanks!” She laughed. “These will go great in my next salad. Speaking of—would you like to join me for dinner tonight? I’m hosting a book club at my house and think you’d have a really good time.”
Gnawing the inside of my cheek, I tried to be brave, but people just weren’t my thing. Besides, I needed to prepare if I was going to search out the Weaver again tonight. “Thank you, but I’ll have to pass. Harvest season affords me no breaks. I’ll be off to bed early again.”
Keelyn dipped her head, a knowing smile pulling at her rose-colored lips. “Well, if you ever change your mind, or when you finally do get a break, you’re always welcome. We’ll be meeting every week on Thursday nights.”
I smiled, my cheeks flushing as she graciously accepted yet another of my excuses. “Thank you for stopping by. I’ll be sure to save you some fresh currants next time, if you’re still interested.”
“Absolutely. I love using them in my yogurt cakes.” Keelyn winked and gave me a little wave goodbye. “See you soon, Milly, and I’ll let you know if I come across a book you described.”
I waved to Keelyn just as the kettle began to whistle. Realizing I’d ruined an afternoon of what could have been lighthearted camaraderie with my friend, I poured myself a cup of the lavender-mint tea and filled the bowl on the table full of beans. Shelling the pods was a relaxing, monotonous task I’d done over and over, year after year, and I had the calluses to prove it. Rough around the edges, I was all work and no play, and while I truly did prefer being alone, sitting here in this empty house, I was regretting my friend’s rushed departure. I couldn’t deny I was considering Keelyn’s offer to join her book club, and there was certainly no doubt I couldn’t wait to see him again. It was all so unlike me, and I wondered how the Weaver had broken through that facet of my life.
Once processed, I stored the shelled beans in the freezer, planning to use them in my ham hock soup when the weather turned cold. Grabbing my wicker basket, I traipsed back into the garden to gather the ingredients I’d need for my spell tonight. My goal wasn’t for more control but instead to open my heart and mind and to see things more clearly. Perhaps if I could pierce the veil of the dreamscape, I could see what was truly going on.
Snipping nine heads off my peppermint and lemongrass plants, I returned to the kitchen and dropped them into the mortar. Adding a chunk of ginger, I began to grind.
Reveal the truth. Allow me to see. Magic being hidden from me. Open my heart, and my mind. Show me the truth, nine by nine.
I muddled the herbs into a fine powder, setting the kettle again to steep on the stove. After adding a pinch into my cup, I dripped in a dollop of honey and poured hot water over it all. Sweet steam rose into the air, spinning at the base, then continuing upward into a smoky, straight line. The spell was energetically clear.
Normally I’d work in the garden past nightfall, but tonight I was ready to start my next adventure by 7:00 p.m.—a good, magical number.
“Now you stay close tonight, okay?” I scratched Jenks behind the ears and tucked myself beneath the blankets as he walked atop them, settling near my feet. I quickly drifted off, the dream enveloping me like a blooming cloud—a watercolor painting rendered right before my eyes.
Rolling green hills and a bluish-gray sky surrounded me. I thought I might be stateside until I saw a unique stone castle perched atop the nearest hill. The air was balmy and carried with it the thick, cloying fragrance of my favorite flowers.
I turned and gasped.
