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Brice had indeed felt contrite, I noted, as I opened the kitchen doors and flipped on the lights. The place was spotless and ingredients for breakfast were already laid out. Smiling, I turned on some music and started the coffee, before popping my head into the banquet hall.
“Brice, I’m here. If you’re hungry, just let me know.” I’d already checked the storage room, and he’d devoured the meal I’d left for him, so I’d make extra breakfast this morning. While I was unhappy with his behavior the night before, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do the ritual of ridding my kitchen of him. The odd little guy had grown on me, and to be honest, there was a part of me that thrilled at having a magickal being in my kitchen. I mean, how cool was that? In fact, now that I had a brief moment to myself, I was going to take that time to read more of my spells book. I still couldn’t get over that I was descended from a long line of Kitchen Witches. I’d gone from Lia, chef extraordinaire in Boston, to Kitchen Witch Lia of Scotland. Granted, I was still a chef here, but knowing that I was wanted, no…needed, to contribute to the greater good of Loren Brae, well, it was a heady prospect.
I was building something here that I could be proud of.
I just had to figure out how to hold on to it. My heart, quite simply, couldn’t take it if I lost what I was building here.
After I’d made a simple bowl of oatmeal, or porridge as they called it in Scotland, I added some fresh blueberries and cinnamon, left a bowl for Brice in the pantry, and pulled a stool to a ledge by the window in the kitchen. There, I could enjoy my coffee while looking out over the castle’s expansive gardens, while I paged through the spells book.
“The divine feminine,” I murmured. The book was pretty incredible. Not only did it contain page after page of recipes and spells, all with notations added over the years, but it also had random journal entries from the various owners. I smiled as I read about babies being born, weddings, and even in one particular instance, a battle being won. But this entry caught my attention, as it related to the Order of Caledonia, and, to my delight, was written by my great-grandmother. “‘The Order of Caledonia is at its most powerful when comprised of women, as the divine feminine power fuels the protective magick surrounding Clach na Fìrinn. We are all witches, be it a Kitchen Witch, a Knight, or even a Gardener. The power of the divine flows through us, and together, we create a thriving and magickal community for our people to flourish.’”
I was shocked to discover a listing of some previous members of the Order, and their roles. As indicated, it hadn’t always been an Order of just women, but it did indicate that the best years of Loren Brae were when it was protected by women. I found it fascinating that the Order wasn’t made up of a bunch of men acting as soldiers. Instead, it had been formed by mystical women protecting something that had the power to destroy the world. It made sense, I supposed, that a magickaltruth stonewould need magick to defend it.
Even little broonies played a part.
I made a note to speak to Agnes about the book, knowing she had an encyclopedic knowledge of Loren Brae’s history, and this information would delight her. I stood and walked to the open doors to look across the garden to the calm waters of Loch Mirren. The tiny island in the middle was just a speck of green from where I stood. I took a deep breath, and then another, inhaling the earthy dampness that clung to the air in Scotland.
I am magick.
I am powerful.
I am the divine feminine.
Joy flooded through me at my thoughts, even though I couldn’t help but laugh softly. I sounded a bit like my yoga instructor back home, who insisted we were all divine goddesses channeling energy from the moon. Wouldn’t she get a kick out of this if I told her that she’d been right all along?
“Caw!”
I started as three crows landed at my feet, tilting their heads back and forth at me, as though they expected something from me. Was this what happened with witches? Was I going to have crows following me where I walked now? Amused, and uncertain of how to approach them, I tilted my head back at them.
“Good morning?” I asked.
The crows danced around my feet in a circle—performing for me?—and surprise filled me when they dropped something at my toes.
“What is this?” I bent down and picked up a small, tarnished spoon. “Did you bring me a spoon?”
“It looks like you’ve been accepted into the pack.” I turned at Sophie’s voice.
“Are these your crows?” I asked, turning the spoon in my hand. “Thank you, ladies, er gentlemen. I’m not sure which you are but thank you for your gift.”
The crows fluttered about my feet and seemed pleased with my response. Granted, I wasn’t sure how to gauge the happiness of a bird, but if they weren’t trying to peck my eyes out, I had to assume they were, at the very least, content.
“Can I feed them?” I asked, immediately defaulting to my de facto way of making friends. “What do they like?”
“Crows eat a lot of things, I’ve learned. But if you have any berries or nuts, that will make them happy.”
I stepped back inside to find a bowl of peanuts in their shells and a bowl of blueberries on the prep table. Brice must like the crows.
“Well, that was easy enough.” I returned outside with the bowls to find Sophie cooing to the birds. “Breakfast for you.”
“Oh, Moe, stop bugging Larry,” Sophie lectured, nudging one of the birds away from the other when he jostled his buddy to get close to the bowl. “Maybe just scatter the food?”
“Sure,” I said with a grin and tossed the contents of the bowls away from where we stood. The birds flew after their meal, and Sophie followed me inside.
“Coffee?”
“Please,” Sophie said, plopping onto the stool while I poured her a cup. “Quite a night last night.”
“I know,” I said, my stomach twisting. I’d been waiting to have this conversation. Although we were close in age, Sophie was still my employer. As owner of MacAlpine Castle, she had final say in all major decisions here. Once again, I was reminded how foolish I might be to think that I could build a future here that could potentially be taken from me at any moment. Nerves kicked up, and I began prepping my table for the day.
