I was tagged by @the-solar-surfer thank you very much, I love doing OC info things.
Chosen OC: Amethyst Preston (who else)
How much they listen to music (1-10): 8-9
Song they listen to when sad: Touch- Sleeping at Last
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtgxwkIhH5M
Song they listen to when happy: Play it Right- Sylva Esso
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4183ZU73-B8
Song they listen to when angry: Lipstick Covered Magnet- The Front Bottoms
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPRmnIzMr94
Song they listen to when fighting (if OC is a fighter): This is not a Game- The Chemical Brothers
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAgnJxxFtHY
OC’s favourite song: Broadripple is Burning- Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s or Jesus Christ- Brand New
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXTVDUYIZs8
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjPyvoLXPs4
OC’s favourite genre of music: Indie (Rock or other) and occasionally instrumental
Do you see some of your favourite songs pop up on this list? Only all
*You know how I said I was splitting this chapter in half? This was not even close to half. This part is still really long, enjoy!*
It was growing dark by the time we had gotten everything in order. After getting everything prepared in less than 12 hours, I worried about the whole “It takes weeks to get everything ready”. Had we forgotten something? Was something going to go wrong and I was going to end up with a tail or a pig snout? The ritual had been vaguely explained to me, so vague in fact, that I couldn’t stop my leg from bouncing up and down as I sat in Patrick’s trailer. Patrick had, however, informed me that it was more of a binding spell than anything.
“You have to wear it,” Patrick groaned again.
“Why!? It makes no sense,” I replied.
“Because culture or whatever. Everyone has to wear it, every girl that is. Boys get a cloak and a scratchy white tunic,” My cousin explained.
The item in question was a long white dress that poofed up around the midsection. The sleeves were long and flowing, the kind you would see a medieval princess wearing while riding into the sunset. The top part of the dress was cinched tight, almost like a corset, and was adorned with embroidered braids of gold and green. The dress was beautiful, to say the least, just not on me.
“Please, Amy, they won’t let you go through with the ceremony if you don’t wear it,” Patrick pleaded.
I paused for a moment, trying to see if there was anything I could get out of him if I was to put on the dress. It was always like that between us- do this for me and I will do whatever you want.
“Tell me why everyone is afraid of the Texas camp,” I said. Patrick quickly sat up from his position on the couch, his blue eyes staring meeting mine with almost desperation.
“I… I can’t… not… it’s a lot okay? We should really just do it after the whole-” Patrick started but I quickly butted in.
“No, no, no. None of that. Everything I seem to question is always ‘We will talk later, Amy’. If I did something that is more than just breaking a rule I need to know. Lee said something about stirring up a lot of drama and I’m getting the feeling that he doesn’t mean drama between two best friends. And then there was the whole thing with Rob, whoever that is. Barney, and everyone, got mad really fast,” I argued.
Patrick sighed, sat down across from me, and began, “Okay, okay. I guess you have to know if you’re going to live in the Oregon Camp. You know how before I was telling you that there is a camp in almost every part of the world? Well America has a lot of them. One of the biggest ones is the one in Texas. Do you remember where I used to live?”
I thought for a moment before the realisation dawned on me, “Texas.”
“Exactly," he continued, “You also know the reason I got kicked out was because I was gay and dating a boy. The boy, Timothy Rutherford, just happened to be the son of the Texas Camp leader, Robert Rutherford. Turns out, both our parents weren’t very accepting. While I got kicked out of my home, Timothy’s father decided that there was no way his son was gay and was convinced I had done something and ruined his sweet angel child forever. Timothy went along with this. Instead of just being kicked out of my home, Mr. Rutherford kicked me out of the entire camp. I had no options, nothing left, but then grams took me in and luckily enough so did the Oregon Camp.”
“So, why is everyone so stiff about the Texas Camp? Is it just because it’s like a disgrace to get kicked out of a camp?” I shifted in my seat.
“Not exactly. Our camp has always gotten weird looks, we were criticized for being too small and for the longest time we weren’t even considered a camp. Most people didn’t see why we couldn’t just move to the California camp. The Convocation hadn’t officially made us a camp until about 20 years ago. When I did move up here, Rob decided me leaving wasn’t enough. He brought up the whole topic of being too small to the Convocation and nearly had the camp taken off the map. We fought and fought and we eventually won, obviously, but Rob has been keeping a watchful eye on us since then. Anything goes wrong and he plans to give the Convocation another reason as to why the Oregon Camp shouldn’t exist,” Patrick explained breathlessly.
I went silent for a moment, processing everything. “So, me breaking the rules could possibly start up the war between Oregon and Texas again?”
“I doubt it. While the Convocation can see all uses of magic, they don’t like indiscretions getting out. We can only hope that they’ll keep it quiet. It’s like Barney said, that rule has been up in the air almost as long as the Oregon Camp’s official title has,” My cousin replied.
“I’m sorry, Patrick.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
“It’s been difficult, but everything will be okay. Being a Welder isn’t easy and we all have to go through things but eventually we all learn that yeah everything sucks, yeah this camp may not always be our home, but we are always going to be family,” Patrick comforted.
I smiled at him but the warm fuzzy moment was soon ruined by him saying, “Now, will you please put on the freaking dress.”
“Fine,” I grumbled and snatched the dress from his bed, heading for the back area before closing the curtain behind me. It was difficult enough to get into a dress, let alone trying to get into a dress while being crammed in the only private room that had a very large bed.
“Besides, you only have to wear it for like 3 minutes during the ritual. After that you can go change back into your nasty sweatpants,” Patrick said from the front. I could hear a small clicking noise as he replied but I wasn’t sure what it was.
“Can you explain exactly what is going to happen? I heard something about blood and that freaked me out enough as it is,” I questioned.
“Chill out. All you gotta do is walk down the aisle, cut you hand and bleed into what looks like a really watery soup, listen to Barney say some chants, and say “I do,”. Boom, bang, you’re married to the Welders," he summed up. His voice was slightly muffled as I pulled the dress over my head.
Satin was everywhere and I saw flashes of green and gold before finally breathing fresh air. Well as fresh as it could be because I could smell the unmistakable stench of cigarette smoke.
“Patrick,” I warned as I pulled back the curtain and saw him quickly hide the cigarette behind his back.
I could only look disappointed as he gave me a very toothy smile, put the cigarette out on an ashtray that I hadn't realized was an ash tray, and held out his elbow.
“You look lovely,” Patrick coughed slightly. I smoothed my dark hair out at the top of my head and prayed that there was no frizz that was highly visible. I begrudgingly took his elbow and allowed him to walk me out of his trailer and through the camp.
The camp, however, was pitch black. There wasn’t a single camp fire lit, not a single candle or lantern. Nothing. I gripped Patrick’s elbow tighter as a cold wind brushed against my spine. The dress was a bit snug and stuck to my sides, giving me the illusion of warmth. The sleeves were made of a thin fabric that fluttered slightly in the breeze. If an innocent hiker were to stumble upon the camp and see Patrick and I walking in the dark, they’d probably think I was a ghost and go running to the hills.
“You shouldn’t smoke,” I offered and Patrick moved his arm from my hand to around my shoulders.
“I know," he whispered.
I was lead to one of the parts of the camp that I had not been to before. The ritual was to the left of Barney’s mansion, behind some tents and trees, and near what appeared to be, in the dark, a small wood and metal formation that I didn’t know existed. Small candles were planted on the ground leading up to a wooden arch. I then found where everyone in the camp was. Surrounding the wood arch, was the entire camp including Lee, Delia, Ferris, the triplets, and surprisingly Allison, Felicity, and Daisy. Barney stood underneath the arch with a large bowl that resembled silver and a plethora of candles on a oak pedestal.
My jaw clenched at the menacing sight and I almost resorted to being the innocent hiker and running for my life.
“I’ll try and get as close a possible, but remember,” Patrick said and turned my slightly so I was looking directly at him. “Keep breathing. In and out, in and out. Stay calm, it’ll be alright. Just imagine all the mischief we’ll get into when you get your magic.”
I nodded and took a deep breath. My breath went out every time that my left foot hit the ground. It was a little trick that Patrick had taught me that somehow stopped your legs from cramping. It was great for when I had to run the mile but it had eventually become the beginnings of a breathing technique that Patrick would use on me every time I was panicking. All it took was for him to remind me to breath the the world would calm down for a few seconds.
As I walked, my concern was growing for the princess-like dress. The candles were awfully close to dress that didn’t belong to me nor did I want to own. I suppose freaking out about little things was just my brain trying to distract me from the actual idea of a blood ritual that was slowly getting closer.
Everybody had turned to look at me, their eyes unwavering and unblinking. I suddenly felt like I was about to get married and Patrick’s explanation of the ritual had never seemed so fitting. When I passed little Felicity, she quickly tugged on Allison’s now long blue sundress and whispered something. Allison nodded happily and smiled when she caught my eye. I gulped a little too loudly and continued to walk towards Barney.
When I finally did reach the tattooed man, he reached out for my hand and did something that resembled a smile under his thick beard and moustache. My hand was small and thin compared to his, also smooth and nearly dainty. His hands were littered with scars and callouses. They were dry and more tan than the rest of his body. Barney had suited for rolling down his sleeves for the ritual rather than exposing his “inappropriate” art. Perhaps the ritual was only formal for everyone who was participating. I was vaguely aware that Patrick was wearing a plaid flannel and I had noticed Lee was wearing a sweatshirt.
It was only then, when I was studying my hand in his, that I noticed the soupy mixture in the bowl and the long, silver, glimmering in the evil candle light, dagger on the pedestal next to him.
My heart stopped when Barney went straight for the dagger and held my hand palm up. He pressed the cold silver to my hand, glanced up to me, and slowly dragged it across my hand. My jaw clenched harshly as the burning pain made its way to my fingertips and up to my elbow. Every reflex in my body was telling me that I should pull back, but Barney was holding on tightly. He twisted my hand so the cut was facing the bowl and I watched as drops of blood hit the surface of the water.
He then began to speak, “I call upon the Priestess to take witness upon this binding. This child wishes to join, praise, and worship our highest Priestess. Allow this individual to be bound, forever, to the land," he reached for a the green candle with his unoccupied hand and poured the melted wax into the bowl. “The water," he then poured the blue candle wax carefully.
The color mixed together as my blood continued to fall gracefully into the bowl. The smell of something burning hit my nose as Griffin appeared dressed in a large leather apron holding a glowing red ball in a pair of wrought iron pincers. He only barely looked at me as he gently placed the ball into the water. Steam immediately filled the air with an angry hiss.
“And the fire.” Barney watched as the steam filled up the space between us. I took this moment, while being hidden in the steam, to glance to the side and find Patrick who was watching with an almost grim expression. His curly hair flopped into his face but he didn’t seem too worried. Griffin slowly appeared next to him and placed a hand on my cousin's shoulder, making Patrick slightly jump.
As soon as the steam had fully cleared, Barney quickly turned my hand back so no more blood could fall into the bowl and continued, “Allow this child to use the power that the Priestess has gifted them. Allow this child to be protected, cherished, and powerful. As this talisman is brought out of the darkness, the same as this child is, let it measure and hold the true power of the Priestess. I shall name this child cailleach feasa, let the name be a proud one that they shall honor.”
Barney nodded to me and it was clear that I was the one who had to reach into the water and retrieve my ampoule. With my hand still cut open and slightly bleeding, I dipped my hands into the cold water and found the solid glass orb. My hand stung as I brought it back up and looked nervously to Barney.
“Amethyst Cecilia Preston, do you accept the name of cailleach feasa?” Barney placed his hands under my own and lifted them slightly higher.
The only right answer, as of now, was yes so I whispered, quieter than I meant, “Yes.”
My answer wasn’t as quiet as I thought it was and as soon as the words left my lips, the crowd behind me exploded with excitement. Somebody was shouting, somebody was clapping, and multiple people had suddenly begun to play instruments. The image of a bunch of people with bows on fiddles just waiting for a single word made me smile.
My smile only grew as I was knocked to the side from Patrick running full force at me and wrapping his arms around me. People were cheering all around me and it was like every fire in the camp had suddenly lit itself. I glanced down to the now cool orb in my hands and sighed. Sure my hand hurt but, man, it was worth it.
“Amy, Amy, Amy, if I had a champagne bottle…” Lee spoke up from beside me.
“Awe shut up Fletcher, you say that everytime someone gets sworn in,” Griffin criticized.
“I’m guessing you’re not mad at me anymore?” I laughed and allowed myself to be lead away by the small crowd surrounding me.
“Nah, can’t be mad at anyone once they have their magic. Whether they know how to use it or not,” Lee replied.
“Yeah right, it’s because she’s wearing that dress,” Delia quickly answered only to receive a punch in the ribs from her twin brother.
We were still moving forward to the tents when we were stopped by Cameron. She was slightly shorter compared to the boys but they immediately stopped when she appeared. She smiled very happily, hugged me, then produced a small rag that was wrapped around my hand. Luckily, the only sign language I knew was “thank you”, so I quickly signed to her. It made her face light-up more than it already was and I made the assumption that not many people knew how to sign.
“Congrats, you look better in that dress than I did,” Griffin translated as Cameron quickly signed. “You know sign language?”
I had to stifle a laugh from Griffin saying he wore a dress before replying, “Only thank you. I’m sure you looked amazing. Dresses have never really been my thing.”
Cameron obviously blushed and signed, thanks to Griffin, “Thank you, and you really look amazing. I hope your cut heals quickly.”
“Don’t worry Cammy, we’ll get her healed soon enough,” Lee answered and put an arm around the young girl. She smiled again and joined our small group as we moved closer to the music.
The triplets and four other men were sitting in a semi-circle, playing various instruments. Most of the camp was currently dancing or running about and grabbing food from various tents. The music was quick, energetic, and definitely irish. Lee had already begun to do a small jig.
“Geez, was everyone hidden in the darkness like a surprise party?” I looked around at how cheery everything was compared to the 5 minutes of complete silence and seriousness during the ritual.
“Basically. So… surprise!” Patrick pulled a wood box from behind his back and shoved it into my arms.
The box was bigger than the normal size jewelry box and was beautifully engraved with celtic knots that crept up the sides and formed a tree. At the center of the trunk was a shimmering purple crystal that I immediately recognized.
“An amethyst? Really, dude,” I groaned. I opened it to find green velvet with a circular spot that was the perfect spot for my ampoule. I gladly slipped the small orb into the box.
“Yeah, figured you would never forget which box was yours. Now I know you really want to start playing with magic but…” Patrick trailed off and took the box from my hands before continuing. “Right now is the time for celebration and dancing.”
Before I could protest, Patrick had handed off the ampoule to Delia and pulled me towards the circle of dancing Welders. I shrieked loudly and glanced helplessly to my giggling friends as I was dragged away. We were in the midst of the dancers within seconds and attempted to join. It soon became clear that the dance was something cultural and had either been practiced or was just common Welder knowledge. Dancing was also not one of my strong suits, especially not in a large dress.
The dance included a lot of kicking and spinning and I eventually just allowed myself to be spun around as I was slightly forced to the very center of the dancing circle. I didn’t care how ridiculous I looked or how bad my bare feet hurt from stepping on stray rocks and sticks because this was the most fun I had had in ages.
The most obnoxious laugh was leaving my lips as I lost track of exactly where I was and spun around in circles. The laugh grew louder as I was viciously lifted into the air by someone with dark hair that I recognized as Lee. I sat on top of his shoulders and forgot to feel bad that the dress was basically covering most of his face. I also forgot to feel slightly violated that the dress was covering most of his face.
From that high up I could clearly see the dancing and enjoyed how well timed every movement was. Every kick was in perfect time and the spins were all together, no one was falling behind. My head felt airy and the only thing I could do was laugh and smile and Lee spun around, making me wobble back and forth on his shoulders.
I saw Barney sitting on a folding chair near his mansion, sipping something from tin cup. He caught my eye and raised his glass and for a moment I wished I had something to raise back. Instead, I nodded to him before being gently set back on the ground. I, for the second time that day, felt very sick from spinning around and being so high up for so long. Somebody gripped my shoulder and pulled me out of the circle, into the cool air.
“You’re disgustingly sweaty,” Delia prodded and motioned to a folding chair next to her. She was now wearing a massive orange and blue ski jacket that looked too warm.
“Oh come on now, don’t be mean. I just got my magic,” I whined and fell into the chair. “Why can’t you be more like your brother?”
“Now you sound like my parents," she joked and leaned back, watching as the others continued to dance.
I did the same, watching the green and brown colors swirl together. Every now and then there was a splash of blue that I could only assume was Allison attempting to teach Felicity how to dance. That was probably how it felt to try to teach me to dance.
“I seem to be missing out on the party.” Daisy waddled over, her hands in her overall pockets.
Delia quickly stood up and embraced Daisy before unfolding another chair. Daisy sat down and turned to me.
“I see you got home safely.” Daisy dug her large boots into the soft dirt.
“Sick, but safe,” I replied, picking at a loose thread on the chair. We went silent for a moment before I asked Delia for my ampoule. She removed the small box from her ski jacket pocket.
“May I?” Daisy held out her hand for my ampoule and I unsurely placed the orb into her hand.
The redhead placed her other hand on top of the ampoule and closed her eyes. I glanced to Delia but she was acting as if this was just another normal day. There was a lot I would have to get used to. I too looked at Daisy and for a split second I thought I saw a flash of color in my ampoule.
Daisy’s eyes opened, adjusted to the light or lack thereof, and handed my ampoule back.
I looked at her questioningly and she explained, “If you were listening to the ritual ya may have heard Barney say that your ampoule would also measure your magic. How much you had and whether it is good or bad.”
“And you can read mine?” I looked down to my ampoule and Daisy nodded. “What did you see?”
“You have a lot of magic Amy. Proper magic that could do a lot of good. I’m sure Patrick has already explained that you have been stricken with some dark magic but your ampoule only reads good. Perhaps at one time, when you were little, you had some dark magic in ya, but all that time away from your father and away from any kind of magic has turned you pure. There is not a single drop of bad magic in ya. None at all,” Daisy said, smiling all the while.
I felt Delia place a hand on my shoulder but didn’t look to her in happiness. I hadn’t really thought about the kind of magic in me. If I was being honest, I had forgotten that I had dark magic in me. Like most things that included my father, I blocked them out. It wasn’t joy I was feeling. It wasn’t much of anything.
“You alright there, lass?” Daisy placed a hand on my knee.
I realized I hadn’t spoken for a few seconds, shook my head, and said, “Yeah, yeah. Just overwhelming and… stuff.”
“You look a little too fancy for my taste, go and change back into some regular clothes, yeah? Then come back out and join the party,” Daisy instructed.
I placed my ampoule back into the small box and slowly walked back to Patrick’s trailer. The trailer stairs were cold under my bare feet and the door squeaked as it opened. The dress covered up the floor as I attempted to make my way behind the curtain but ended up stabbing my poor pinkie toe on the corner of the fridge. Why Patrick had a fridge, I didn’t know. It wasn’t like it worked or we had anything that needed to be refrigerated. It was just a mini fridge but it packed a powerful punch.
I immediately bit down on my lip and my feet stuttered across the floor. I struggled to stand and keep a good grip on my box, so I ever so gently set it on the floor as I tumbled to the same floor and nearly smacked my head on the small table. My embarrassment luckily hadn’t caused too much of a ruckus, seeing as no one had come screaming and yelling to the trailer, so I wobbled back to my feet, picked up the box, and cautiously tiptoed my way behind the curtain to Patrick’s room.
I sat on the end of his bed and waited for the pain in my toe to subside. My duffel bag was squished to one side of the bed, slightly opened, and I noticed that the framed picture of my mother and I was visible. I reached down and picked up the small object. There weren’t many pictures that I was okay with having of my family; most of them included my dad. I knew that if I were to removed the photograph, the words “Amethyst's 6th birthday- county fair” would be written in curly handwriting.
I stroked the glass near my mother’s face and wondered if she had worn a dress like this to her ceremony. Then again, Cameron had said she wore the dress so maybe my mother had worn this exact dress. How would this dress of lasted that long? How would it have been able to fit the different types of girls throughout the years? Maybe there was one room in Barney’s mansion that was dedicated to ceremonial clothes and each dress was made so it could fit any girl of any type. Perhaps I could ask Barney to see this magical closet and find my mother’s dress.
I realized I had spent far too long in the trailer when I was supposed to be out celebrating. I quickly changed, immediately taking a deep breath as the corset released my rib cage. I carefully laid the dress on the bed, making sure it wasn’t scrunched up anywhere so it wouldn’t get wrinkled.
The air felt much colder than when I had entered the trailer and I pulled my flannel tighter around my body. There was still music playing and I could see a very large bonfire had begun. I could also easily tell that all the smoke was not just from the fire. Lee was throwing his head back and laughing, smoke erupting from his nose and mouth in large puffs. Patrick was holding his cigarette close to his leg, possibly shielding it from certain people, for example, me.
My friends were gathered in their own semi-circle, a couple feet from the fire and away from everyone else. I found my seat on the ground, leaning against Patrick’s knee. He hummed quietly and placed the cigarette between his teeth.
“Gimme tonight yeah?” He spoke around the cigarette and I waved him off.
“Amy, perfect,” Lee nearly tumbled from his folding chair and kneeled, a little too close, in front of me, “I wanna show you a magic trick.” His breath smelled so strongly of smoke that I struggled not to cough.
I glanced to Delia who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “It makes him happy if you play along.”
I had to be honest, Lee looked extremely excited at the moment. When I had first met him, he looked very intimidating. Who wouldn’t be intimidated by a shirtless, long haired, tooth necklace wearing kid who just emerged from the forest? But, right now, he had the goofiest smile plastered on his face, his pale eyes a very crystal blue.
“Go for it,” I encouraged and he pulled a deck of cards out of his sweatshirt pocket.
Lee, placing his cigarette in his mouth, fanned them out and motioned for me to take one. I did so, feeling Patrick lean over my shoulder to view the card. 8 of diamonds. Lee collapsed all the cards back into a single deck and shuffled them.
“Now place your card on top and don’t forget it,” Lee instructed, his voice muffled, and I did so.
He began to shuffle all the cards again, glancing around mysteriously and smiling. I was beginning to wonder if underage drinking was allowed as much as smoking was.
“Now, I am going to pull your card out of this deck, your exact card,” Lee explained and I smiled. I had seen this trick a million times but had never learned how to do it.
“Lee, promise you won’t cry if you fail. Again,” Delia prodded.
“Hey! I failed twice, that’s it. There was no crying involved! Besides I’ve gotten better,” Lee glared at his sister. He returned back to what he was doing and fanned the cards out again. He looked up to me, bit the inside of his lip, and placed a pale hand over the cards.
Lee’s thin fingers glided above the cards, back and forth, searching. He continued to look directly at me as he searched. The glowing cigarette in his mouth moved back and forth as he attempted not to breath any in. I was determined to win this staring contest. Only 15 seconds in did I remember that I am terrible at staring contests and blinked. Immediately, as if it was he who made me blink, Lee placed his hand on a card.
I raised one eyebrow and looked down, waiting for him to flip the card over. Instead, the dark haired boy slowly lifted his hand, the card following his fingers. The card floated, mid air, not touching Lee’s fingers in any way, and slowly revealed itself to me.
“Is this your card?” Lee grinned.
I looked at the card and looked to Lee. It was a 6 of spades. I shook my head and the smile fell from Lee’s face, his cigarette dipping.
“I didn’t mean that card,” Lee took the cigarette from his mouth with his unoccupied hand. “This one.”
The 6 of spades suddenly sputtered into flames. I jumped back and heard Delia giggle lightly. It sizzled and snapped, a thin trail of smoke blowing into the sky. Slowly the flames died out and, still floating in mid-air, was an 8 of diamonds. I plucked the card from the air, it wasn’t even a little bit warm .
“How did you…” I drifted off flipping the card over and checking for any scorch marks.
Lee sat back, triumphant, and placed the cigarette back between his lip. He took a long breath and blew it all straight up towards the stars.
“I’m kinda good with fire.” Lee shrugged and fully laid back in the grass. His head was just barely under Delias sneaker and I wondered if she and her brother were how Patrick and I were. As in, if his face was ever that close to my shoe, I wouldn’t hesitate to slightly kick him in the face.
Griffin emerged from behind the raging bonfire, Cameron practically skipping next to him. I felt Patrick straighten up and take a deep breath. I looked behind me and saw his cigarette was nearly gone.
“Should’ve suspected you guys would be here. Everyone is dancing and celebrating and even the person of honor is hiding in a corner,” Griffin scolded but still joined us.
Cameron still stood, slightly swaying along with the fast paced music. Cameron looked younger than any of us, I would say about 13 or 14. If she was that young, who on earth had allowed her to get all those tattoos. Griffin seemed like a responsible guardian but he also had tattoos. Underage drinking, smoking, and tattoos- this place was a parents worst nightmare.
“Pass me one, yeah?” Griffin poked Lee with his foot, trying not to make eye contact with Cameron. It was easy enough to connect the dots: Cami was about as happy with the boys smoking as I was.
Lee reached into his sweatshirt pocket and produced an almost empty packet of cigarettes and a yellow lighter.
“Who goes on cigarette runs?” I picked at the grass beside me.
Patrick raised his hand lazily while Griffin explained, “We never leave the camps, like ever. I haven’t left for about 10 years, something like that. Either way, it’s been ages.”
“I don’t remember ever leaving. My mom said she let Lee and I go exploring outside the Tongass camp in Alaska when we were about 6 or 7. Neither of us remember,” Delia said and Lee confirmed her statement by offering and grunt and a thumbs up.
I looked at all of them in astonishment and asked, “Have you ever wanted to leave?”
They all simultaneously shook their heads.
“There’s no need to. We’ve got everything we need in each camp. Traveling between each camp is about as much social interaction as anybody needs. You’ve only been to Maine, you can’t even imagine how it is in Ireland or Scotland. Even Washington get’s insane at times, they’ve got the Gifford Pinchot camp,” Delia replied.
“Do even get started on the Taiga camp,” Patrick mumbled from behind me.
“Hang on, what are all these names? We are just the Oregon camp. I’ve heard you guys say the Maine camp and the Texas camp… why do the others get fancy names?” I glanced around.
“It’s the forests they’re located in. The Maine camp, isn’t actually the Maine camp, it’s the Durham camp. The Texas camp is the Caddo camp,” Patrick explained.
“So we are technically the Siuslaw camp?” I pieced together.
“Nope, just Oregon. We are the only camp in Oregon. The loneliest, the smallest, the problematic teenager,” Lee piped up.
“Welders are in nearly every forest and even some grasslands. The Caddo camp is a grassland camp. There are at least 100 camps in America alone. We are, quite literally, everywhere,” Griffin said and blew a plume of smoke into the air.
“Incredible,” I muttered, smiling up at the stars that were slightly clouded by the smoke.
Griffin continued to explain how the camps worked. Ireland and Scotland had the biggest camps that were mostly full of parents and elderly people. Patrick had already explained to me that older people went back home after a while. Each camp was severely hidden with a lot of magic and usually had some sort of wall surrounding it. This was to prevent any animals from randomly wandering into the campsites. Apparently, animals were the only exception to the ancient ancestral magic that protected us.
I was surprised when Delia added on that the Convocation didn’t live in any forest or grassland. They lived in an a massive colonial mansion that had a courtroom and possible jail cells. Nobody had seen the inside of it, just heard little whispers. This was mainly because, if the Convocation thought you were guilty of any charges, you were put on trial and you didn’t really ever come back. To make myself feel better, I chalked it up to fairy tales that Welder mothers told their kids to make them eat their vegetables.
Delia paused for a few seconds after explaining this to say, “Oh, I meant to ask earlier, what were you two and Barney talking about?”
“Just… you know… ceremony stuff,” I stuttered and pulled my knees closer to my chest.
“So, definitely not the Texas camp and Convocation getting pissed at us?” Lee slowly dragged himself into a sitting position and pulled out another cigarette.
“Nope,” Patrick quickly responded. “You never did apologize for all that stuff you were yelling about, Lee.”
“I was angry and scared. Still am. How sure-”
“Very. Barney said everything was fine. It was a minor rule. Besides, if the Convocation was pissed at us, they would have come and arrested someone by now,” Patrick quickly stopped Lee. I knew this was his attempt to calm down everyone’s paranoia. I also knew it wasn’t working and not even he believed what he was saying.
“Ah ha! You did talk to Barney about it,” Delia exclaimed.
“Of course they did, Delia. It just isn’t a super big deal,” Griffin spoke up.
“Exactly,” I finally said. “Whatever I did, I didn’t realise I was doing it. I have been here for like 30 seconds.”
“Okay, okay. Maybe everything is fine with the Convocation but what about Rob?” Lee began shuffling the deck of cards nervously.
“How would he find out? He’s in Texas,” I said.
“Yeah but you don’t understand just how much he hates us and this camp. We so much as look at Texas on the map and Rob claims we are planning on invading and taking over. Like, who would want to take over Texas? It’s freaking Texas,” Lee ranted, the card slipping out of his hands and spreading onto the grass
I slightly jumped when the cards spun out of his hands. Tension was high and nothing extremely terrible had even happened. I didn’t know the full extent of what would or could happen, but it wasn’t good.
“Guys, maybe we should stop freaking Amy out,” Griffin translated for Cameron. Everyone was looking at me and I wondered if I had jumped more than I thought.
“No, no. I’m good. It’s like Barney said, it was a minor rule and I’m new. I had no idea what was happening,” I said. All the same, Cameron came and sat next to me.
“Yeah, of course,” Lee muttered only to receive glares from Delia.
It was more than easy to say that the rest of the night went better than the entirety of that conversation. We dropped the subject, dropped worrying about Texas and the Convocation, and even ended up dancing for a least an hour. Cameron and little Felicity put all of us to shame. The two girls could have gone on dancing for hours if Alli hadn’t decided on a bed time and Cameron hadn’t nearly fallen over mid spin from lack of sleep. Griffin had help her back to her tent before saying good-night to the rest of us. Lee had slipped away at some point and returned with a bunch of blankets from his tent.
The night had never really ended, not for us anyway and we stayed next to the dying embers of the bonfire until the sun decided to peek it’s head out between the trees. Delia was rolled up in a blue blanket on the grass, snoring lightly at her brother’s feet. Lee, Patrick, and I were all sitting in fold up chairs with blankets over our legs.
We had been silent for what felt like hours, our last conversation having been on how old Barney really was, and I only then realized that the sun had in fact risen.
“Guys… should we have gone to bed?” I looked around to find the camp silent, sleeping.
Patrick shrugged and whispered, “Probably.”
My eyelids seemed to have gained 20 pounds and I groggily stood from the chair, allowing my blanket to fall to the ground.
“I’m gonna…” I pointed behind me towards the camper and Patrick waved me off. “Wake me up in a couple of hours, preferably with coffee.”
*This chapter was really long so I decided to split it up into two halves*
Every bone in my body was aching. My muscles felt as though I had just run 5 marathons in a matter of seconds. This was the second time, today, that ended with me regretting eating those five course meals for the past few days. Delia was leaning over me as I sat hunched over on my knees, her hands were on my shoulders as she tried to pull me up and stop me from throwing up. She was asking me something, shouting almost, but it was hazy and blurry.
“Amy...Amy...what’s going on? Where’s Patrick?” I finally heard and I looked up, my eyes almost rolling to the back of my head.
“Maine," I mumbled, the words were sloppy and I doubted that she even understood what I had said.
“He’s still there? How did you get here?” She slowly asked. She placed her hands on my cheeks and made me look straight at her. I had no control over my head as I swayed back and forth. I let the ampoule roll from my fingers and she looked down, wide eyed.
“Amy, is that Patrick's?” Delia whispered, reaching down to grab it.
“What’s going on!” Someone shouted and Delia looked over her shoulder, her dark hair nearly whacking me in the face.
It was Lee and Griffin. They were both running full force towards us before sliding to their knees beside me.
“She traveled here alone," Delia explained and slightly handed me off to Lee who propped me up with his arm around my shoulders.
“Strong girl," Griffin praised and I attempted to smile.
“No, not good," Delia whispered and pointed down to Patrick’s ampoule.
Griffin looked at me with wide eyes and whispered, “Patrick. Amy, is he okay? Where is he? Why isn’t he with you.”
“There were a bunch of people… mercenaries… something like that. Daisy said we had to leave. Patrick wouldn’t listen,” I replied, finally regaining some composure.
“And he gave you his ampoule? Why would he do that? He knows…” Lee asked Griffin and Delia.
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Delia said, Patricks ampoule still frozen in her hand. “We need to get you some medicine and then figure out why the Merc’s where there. Can someone go get Barney.”
Griffin was already on his feet but instead of running towards the mansion, he was running towards his tent. He appeared in a second, his own ampoule clutched in his hand.
“Griffin no, we need to-” Delia tried to say.
“Gimme,” Griffin insisted and snatched Patrick’s ampoule from Delia.
“Griffin! Wait! You can’t just run into Maine when it’s infested with Mercs!” Delia shouted. Griffin was already long gone, possible already through the gate and on his way to Maine.
Lee sighed, “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. He’ll get Patrick back.”
Delia rolled her eyes and dragged me to my feet. I stumbled and waited for the world to stop spinning before taking lurching steps toward Barney’s home. Lee was still allowing me to lean on him, my nails digging into his navy blue sweatshirt. Delia had left my side and I presumed she had either gone to tell Cameron what had happened or was trying not to punch a tree.
“Have you been smoking?” I asked, suddenly noticing the faint smell of smoke.
“You just illegally traveled here and you want to make small talk?” Lee questioned, almost angrily.
“What do you mean illegally?” I replied. Lee didn’t answer. He only stared straight ahead as he dragged me up the stairs and into the library.
Ferris’s eyes widened behind his glasses and he ran to my side. Lee continued to be silent as the two boys helped me into a worn out chair. Ferris disappeared for a moment and returned with a glass of water which I gladly accepted.
“What on earth happened?” Ferris asked as I gulped down the water.
I was going to answer when Lee tugged on Ferris’s sleeve and dragged him to the side.
From the little bits of, “...alone… stupid Patrick…” and “Barney is… just got here… waited?” I could tell I was most likely in trouble. I may have also gotten Patrick in trouble. The boys continued to talk to me while glancing at me nervously. Well, Ferris was nervous.
“Anybody want to loop me in?” I said loudly, catching their attention. “Why did you say I traveled here illegally?”
“Because you did. Which means they’re going to come looking for you. Which means it’s going to stir up a bunch of drama we thought was dealt with.” Lee sighed.
“Surely they won’t try and use this against us,” Ferris offered hopefully.
“Oh, I’m sure they will. They lost the stupid feud. They’re desperate at this point. Anything and everything is fair game.” Lee replied.
“Once again, anybody want to loop me in?”
There was a woosh, fluttering book pages, and a few blown out candles before Patrick and Griffin were standing at the entry way. Griffin was holding onto the back of Patrick’s shirt, slightly holding him back. Patrick looked embarrassed while Griffin’s face was in a constant frown.
“You good, Amy?” Patrick asked, laying his eyes on me. I went to nod but Lee butted in.
“Patrick Preston, if you screwed up everything that we have been working on for the past 20 some odd years…” Lee trailed off.
“Relax Lee, everything’s gonna be okay,” Patrick shushed him and began to move towards me.
“Okay!? Nothing is gonna be okay! She broke the rules. You broke the rules. You know what breaking the rules gets you? Oh, that’s right. Mercenaries and the Convocation on your tail. It also get’s the freaking Texas camp, aka the camp who has tried to destroy us before, aka the camp that is home to some very nasty people nobody wants to talk about, aka the biggest camp in all of bloomin’ America, snooping in on us and trying to make a case against our little camp. Wow, sure sounds familiar doesn’t it? Hmm, one of those two things has already happened which means option number two might as well already be here!” Lee ranted and shouted.
The room went dead silent as we all looked to the seething boy in front of us. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and wiped his long dark hair from his face. Lee placed both of his hands on his temples and sighed.
“Patrick… we cannot do that again,” Lee pleaded.
“We’re not going to,” Griffin quickly added.
“That’s the thing. We are. History is going to repeat itself and when Rob finds out…”
“Lee!” Someone heavily shouted and we all looked up.
Barney stood at the top of the staircase, a grim look on his face. His tattooed arms were covered by a gray tweed jacket while his tie was a bright orange. His blue eyes were now a dark blue and, from the way he was gripping the railing, he looked angry. Furious. Seething.
“Sorry, Barney,” Lee said and bowed his head.
Barney turned his disappointed look from Lee to Patrick and said, “Patrick bring your cousin up here immediately.” He went to turn back to his office but looked back and continued, “If anyone in the camp finds out about the Convocation or the Mercenaries in Maine, I will send you straight to Balor.”
Everyone seemed to understand exactly what that meant and a terrified expression twisted it’s way onto my friend’s faces. Patrick reached for my hand and we, slowly but surely, made our way into Barney’s office.
I gladly slipped into one of the high backed chair and rested my head against the worn leather. Patrick took a seat beside me and I couldn’t help but feel like we were in the principal's office.
“Barney, before anything, I just wanted to tell you- it wasn’t Amy’s fault. None of it. I was the one who gave her my ampoule so she could get back here. None of it was her idea and I doubt she knew what was happening. She didn’t know any better,” Patrick rushed.
“Quiet. That doesn’t matter now. We don’t know who or what the Mercenaries were after, but it obviously wasn’t Amy. That rule has been in question for a long time,” Barney sighed, leaning his ampoule staff against the wall behind his chair. “Besides, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Patrick looked so taken aback by the fact that he wasn’t in trouble that he struggled with the words, “T-then what?”
“Amy’s initiation ceremony. You had informed me that that was a the top of the agenda for today,” Barney explained.
“That would be my fault. He got me all excited about Maine and I practically ripped the ampoule out of hands trying to get there. Also, what rule did I break?” I answered before Patrick could try to pin it on me in a very twisted explanation.
“There’s a rule about not using another person’s ampoule. You can’t even use it if it’s someone from your bloodline. You used my ampoule,” Patrick explained,
“Is that why Lee was freaking out? Because I broke a rule? He said I travelled here illegally and I thought he meant something a lot worse,” I sighed, relieved.
“Lee had no right to get angry and especially make accusations against you and Patrick about long since handled matters.” Barney made it clear that Lee’s anger was already resolved or it was going to be very shortly. He clapped his hands together and continued, “Right then, onto a much lighter topic. Amy, usually with this ritual it takes a few days to get everything prepared and a full moon. Is you have been following the celestial calendar or have an interest in astronomy you would know that tonight is in fact a full moon. I can see no reason to not get it done here and now. Well here and tonight.”
Patrick looked just as shocked as me and I was right to assume that when Barney said, “It usually takes a few days to get this ritual ready” he meant that the rituals never happened within a couple of days of arrival.
“Besides,” Barney stood, walked to the front of his desk, and sat among the papers, books, and small marble bodice on his desk. “Most Welder children get their ampoules at age eight. Seven years is a bit too long don’t you think?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, awestruck.
Magic, the idea of it that I had so far, was complicated and difficult. There were rules like all things but these ones were different. You had to know how to use it and how to use it correctly. Kids get their ampoules at age eight and I was behind to say the least. I felt as thought I should be more prepared, ready and excited, I felt as though the small taste of magic that I had gotten from Daisy should have had my heart still pumping harshly and my breath stuck in my throat. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared about getting an ampoule only to have my magic measured and it be completely dark.Yet another life long gift, besides inability to trust and the wonderful ability to push people away, that my dad had left me with.
If the life of a Welder was just a bunch of spinning, I was definitely not cut out for the job. When it finally and blissfully stopped, I was sure I was going to go have to hide behind some bush to puke my guts out. Even when I was little and would go on the merry go round, I got kicked off by all the kids because I was turning green. I gripped Patrick’s hand and tried to stop my mind from spinning.
“Come on. We’re here," Patrick said, holding onto my shoulder so I would stop stumbling. He slipped his ampoule into flannel coat pocket and stared proudly at the valley.
It now didn’t matter if my mind was spinning because the area in front of me was too amazing to waste time on trying not to puke. It was way way different from the Oregon Camp. It was an actual village.
From the top of the cleared off hill that we stood on I could see into a large area that was in fact a village. A real village with log cabins and trailers. A village with tall vintage candle street lamps. There were still dirt trails but it was so modern that it made me feel like Oregon was the runt of the camps. People walked around carrying woven baskets of fruit and vegetables and were wearing every shade green and brown. At one end of the camp was what I could only assume was the equivalent to Barney mansion, a massive white tent that might as well of been the size of the mansion. The entire camp was surrounded by trees and mountains that made it look secret and whimsical.
“This is Maine?” I stuttered out while still looking at the actual town.
“Durham State Forest in Waldo county to be exact," Patrick replied, chuckling at how amazed I was. “Let’s go."
He took my hand again and began walking down hill towards all the people, which I was completely willing to do. Nobody even was surprised to see us here, we definitely stood out. It seemed like they actually had… uniforms? No, just they wore similar things unlike Patrick and I who wore flannels and jean jackets.
“Patrick!” someone exclaimed and we stopped.
A young girl, probably only 6, was running straight at us dressed in a very delicate white sleeping gown. I mean it looked vintage. She had the longest brown hair I had ever seen, so long that it nearly touched the grass as she ran.
Patrick immediately kneeled down and opened his arms to small girl who bolted into his arms.
“Good morning Felicity," Patrick said, hoisting her up so that she was hanging onto his neck. “Aren’t you looking absolutely beautiful? This is my cousin Amy. Can you say hi?”
The small girl peered at me through her hair that had fallen into her face, gave me a very toothy smile, and said, “Hello! My name is Felicity Lynch the eighth," her voice had the faint hint of an accent but I couldn’t place it.
I gladly smiled and took her small fragile hand and replied, “It’s very nice to meet you Felicity Lynch. I’m Amy."
“Felicity! Felicity, you can’t just run off!” Someone else shouted with a thick irish accent and we all looked over to see a girl, maybe 25, with short dark hair, shaved on one side who was peering around houses and slightly shoving people out of the way.
“Alli, we’ve got her," My cousin shouted and the girl looked over, sighed, and began walking straight towards us.
“Felicity Eve Lynch," Alli said, taking the girl from Patrick’s arms and setting her on the ground, kneeled and continued, “I know it might feel like the end of the world but you have a cold and you need medicine."
“But I like Daisy’s medicine. Daddy doesn’t make it right!” Felicity whined, tried to wiggle out of Alli’s arms.
Alli rolled her eyes before looking up and noticing that Patrick and I were still standing there. She quickly stood and hugged Patrick before looking to me and sticking out her hand and saying, “Mornin’. I’m Allison, I see you’ve already met my daughter. And yer…?”
“Amy, Amy Preston," I said shook her hand. “I’m Patrick’s cousin."
“You mean the cousin that we hear so much about but have never met?” Allison hinted at, slightly glaring at Patrick and I copied her, upset that he had been talking about me.
“Well she’s here now and that’s all that matters. We’re here to see Daisy. Is she at her shop," Patrick replied, crossing his arms.
“Nope, she’s at the stage. The kids are having a little play-” Allison said before Felicity interrupted.
“I get to be the Lady of the lake!” The small girl shouted and twirled around in her dress, her hair spinning every which way.
“Yer going to be a snot nosed gwyllion if you don’t take yer medicine," Allison threatened, her irish accent making it sound scarier than it needed to be, causing the little girl’s eye to go wide and bolt away to what I assumed to be her own little house.
“I need to…” Allison said pointing in the direction of her daughter and was already moving away before saying, “It was lovely to meet you Amy. I’ll see you around. Also Patrick you owe me five bucks!”
I was about to ask what the money was about before Patrick was leading me behind houses, past people who smiled and greeted us, and finally to where the trees hadn’t been cleared away yet. I could hear giggling and a small amount of music playing from somewhere in the forest and Patrick didn’t pause before walking straight into the trees.
The noises grew louder as we walked, nearly tripped over rocks, and got chopped up by random branches and bushes. I had thought all the surprises were all over put it was not time for my to close my mouth yet.
“It looks like all those garden catalogs my mom used to buy. Do you remember? We had them in literally every room including the closets," I said to Patrick who was also looking up and smiling at what I assumed to be the memory of my mother hoarding magazines filled with kids dressed up in fake fairy wings running through a little wooden play set in the middle of a mystical forest.
“All those little fairy towns and flower crowns she bought," Patrick mumbled and I felt a feeling of sadness wash over me.
We had so many boxes of plastic mushrooms, porcelain fairies, and grumpy trolls all over our apartment but with no garden we couldn’t do anything with them expect watch them collect dust. I wonder if she had bought them so she could feel closer to the Welders she had left behind when she had me. I wonder what had happened to those boxes when I had moved in with my grandmother.
The trees were littered with little glowing lights and candles that dripped white wax into the dirt. The dirt trail had been lined with stones and pieces of bark of all sizes that lead you straight to a wood stage complete with a couple of bedsheets for a curtain and duct taped flashlights for spotlights. Chairs of all shapes and sizes, as well as a few blankets, were set up in front of the small stage. Among those chairs were a few scattered people ranging from seniors to newborns.
“I feel like if we had had a backyard this is what it would have looked like," I remarked, digging my heels into the soft dirt while twinkling music played.
“Hey come on now don’t get all sappy on me. We’ve got a play to watch," Patrick said and pulled me into his side before seating us in the very back next to a squirrelly man with thick metal glasses. I shyly waved at him and he smiled before fixing his eyes back on the empty stage.
I took the few moments before the play to focus on the soft music and take in the past 20 minutes. Yes, I was in Maine and yes, this place was absolutely beautiful. Yes I was among multiple wizards and yes, I still had a terrifying feeling of sadness from where I was sitting.
“Can you tell me about my parents?” I asked suddenly and Patrick looked down to me.
“Right now? You want to wait till we get back?” He replied, slumping down in his chair so he could talk to me better.
“We’ve got time right?” I offered and he nodded before taking a deep breath.
“What do you want to know?”
“Well… obviously the entire story but let’s start with their magic background. Who were my actual Welder parents before they left and had me?”
“I should probably tell you first the reason they left. Your mom didn’t want this life for you. grams didn’t want this for you. Your dad was the only one who was okay with raising you in a magic environment," Patrick explained, gesturing with his hands.
“Why would my mom not want me here? I mean, this place is amazing," I wondered out loud.
“That’s where the history comes in. Your mother and father first met when your father joined the other West camp in California. Your mother, Margaret, had lived there for a long time and it took a lot of convincing before she moved to Oregon. Now, everything was fine until your mother realized that her ancestral magic hadn’t always been used for the best in past. Once magic is tainted there is always a drop of it left inside your blood. Your mom was very much aware of this and tried to live with it for as long as she could. Once she had you, she grew more worried, afraid that the dark magic, as little as it may be, could affect her or you. So she moved out of the camp, not too far, but far enough that she could be close to friends and the camp, but far enough that she wouldn’t be near magic."
“What they didn’t know at the time was that you got most of your magic from your father who, after leaving the camp, began using his magic wrongly. He used it in front of people who were not Welders and who were potentially dangerous. Before your father left, your mother was concerned that his dark ways could affect or trigger the potential dark magic in you. Your mother and grams fantasized that the reason your father left was that he understood that his ways could affect you. So at this moment Amy, know that yes you have dark magic in you, yes it is potentially dangerous, but there is always a chance that there is no cursed magic and you only received the two clean halves of your parents."
Suddenly the twinkling music was gone. The little dangling lights didn’t seem so whimsical and an eerie silence fell over Patrick and I. I had been blaming everything on my dad when in reality, he could have been trying to save me by being the worst father in existence.
“How do you even get dark magic in the first place?” I asked.
“At some point, one of your mother's ancestors went to work for the wrong person or they were just plain messed up in the head," Patrick explained.
I nodded slowly, not making eye contact and heard Patrick mumble to himself, “And the award for freaking people out goes to me."
“I’m fine Patrick. Really. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. My family was always messed up, dark magic is just a normal day at this point. Just one question," I said and he looked at me expectantly. “Is the dark magic still a threat after all these years away from my dad and all this?”
Patrick was quiet for a moment, before he could respond louder music began to play and multiple young children danced across the stage. We both quickly looked up and Patrick straightened but not before leaning down and whispering, “Only an ampoule can measure your magic, good or not."
The play was distracting if anything. Seeing the kids dance around in their adorable little masks and costumes made me feel like I was back at school watching one of the productions I had failed to get into… again. Everyone, including the audience, was smiling and sitting on the edge of their seats as the music got more dramatic.
“So what’s the story again?” I whispered, sitting back in my chair as little Felicity appeared once again on stage in her flowing gown.
“Lady of the lake. The story of the Lady giving King Arthur his sword back. It ties in with a bunch of the Merlin stories. She actually has an important part in different stories from back then," Patrick replied.
The way he talked about I guessed that the Welders had grown up with irish and scottish stories while all I had was Cinderella and some grumpy dwarves. I had never really thought about any other cultures besides Disney princesses but honestly I couldn’t wait to hear all the stories from my real family.
Soon enough the twinkling lights dimmed and it was clear the play was over. Everyone stood and clapped, and while I barely had an idea of what was happening, I whistled loudly when Felicity came out on stage and bowed.
As the other kids flooded the stage I noticed a larger redheaded woman shuffling through chairs until she was standing beside me, her eyes still trained on the stage as we clapped.
“Good morning Patrick," she said, with yet another strange accent. Honestly at this point I should have been the accent equivalent to a bilinguist. “And friends I see."
“Morning Daisy." So this was the mysterious Miss Daisy. “This is Amy."
She stopped clapping and turned straight towards me. She must have been as tall as a christmas tree which went hand in hand with her “Mrs. Claus” stomach. Her face was littered with sun spots and freckles, her hair was red, thin, and curled around her ears. The red heads fingers were weighted with silver rings, some encrusted with raw stones while others were just a pattern of knots. Daisy’s overalls were a collection of different patterned patches ranging from plaid to polka dot. Her waist was adorned in a braided belt that had small leather pouches dangling from it. Not only did she have a strange appearance but she had a strange smell too. The closest thing I could match it with was a very dead bouquet of flowers and a freshly mowed lawn. Miss Daisy smelled like dead daisies.
“Amethyst Preston, I presume. Ya mother and I were good friends. Never got to meet you though, she left before I could see the darling that is Amethyst," Daisy said and took a seat as people began to disperse and everything went quiet.
“You knew my mom? I’m beginning to feel like everyone knows more about my family then I do," I replied, sitting beside her, suddenly very intrigued on what the large woman had to say.
“Yep. I used to live in the California camp, way back when, and that’s where I met ya mother. I taught her a few things about earth magic and she learned quickly. She, of course, ended up teaching me a few things," Daisy replied, adjusting herself so she could be turned towards me while talking.
“That’s why we are here Daisy. Amy’s still learning about her magic and her family. I was hoping you could give a demonstration with your magic. And even introduce her to somethings," Patrick said, still standing.
“Well of course, I love new people," Daisy said, rubbing her hands together and standing. Her walking was similar to Delia’s when I had first met her, quick and unstoppable.
Instead of walking back on the trail to the main village, Daisy took a slightly stomped down path through the forest. Deeper and deeper we went until we were completely surrounded by trees and the creaking of branches. The plants were a much darker green than those in Oregon. The trees were massive and, when looking up, they seemed to scratch the sky. This far into the forest I wasn’t sure if actual animals could survive due to how dark it was.
“Ah, ‘ere should be good," Daisy said, suddenly stopping in the center of an area where there were little to no plants. Like I said before, how plants were still alive here was a mystery to me.
“Patrick I swear if somebody in a black cloak brings out a severed goat head and starts chanting...," I said elbowing him in the side.
“Don’t worry that’s only on Fridays and whenever Delia throws a tantrum," Patrick explained way too calmly for my liking.
“Hush you two. How your grandmother deals with ya sarcasm is beyond me. Now Amy, dear, please come ‘ere," Daisy scolded and sat down on her knees before patting a patch of dirt in front of her. I glanced to Patrick who just stared intently at the red-headed woman in the dirt.
I sat in front of her, cross legged, and began to chew on the inside of my cheek.
“So Amy," Daisy started and I tried to look up focus on her milky blue eyes. “What do ya know so far? I suspect you at least know simple healing spells?”
I glanced back to Patrick and replied, “Uh, no actually. I only got here a few days ago. I don’t even have my ampoule yet."
“Ah, don’t worry about it darling. I’m honored to be your first experience of magic. What do ya know about magic?” Daisy asked.
“Just the orientation stuff. Celtic wiccans and what not. Where we come from and how we came to be here," Patrick answered for me. Seemed like there was a lot of that going around.
“Seems like I will also be the first person to correctly explain everything as well," she looked over my head to glare at Patrick. “Wicca was established in the 1950’s. It wasn’t Celtic by nature but it did have some Celtic influences. It focused a lot on Gardnerian Wicca and not so much on the culture. But back when our ancestors were learning magic they were in fact learning celtic magic. Even though the Wiccan learned from the celtics they weren’t one hundred percent celtic. It’s quite confusing but as the wiccan adapted to us, we adapted to them and overtime we adapted to other religions that practiced magic. So all in all, we are celtic by birth, wiccan by heritage, but overall magic by nature. Any source or form of magic is open to us, not just paganism, wicca or celtic. As for our culture, we are completely devoted to Celtic traditions and rituals as far as holidays and what not go."
I sat there for a moment, trying to simplify everything she had told me. It was a lot different from what Lee and Patrick had told me, then again they hadn’t really touched on magic just the history of it.
“So we can practice other forms of magic? Not just celtic?” I asked, unsure if I had heard and interpreted her last statement correctly.
“A+ for the little lass." Daisy cheered and nestled herself more into the ground. She pulled open the drawstring of one of her small pouches and produced her own ampoule. Even in the dark forest, glints of green and sunlight reflected onto her lap. Using her hand, she dug a small hole in the middle of us and nestled her ampoule into it.
“I think we should start off with a plant spell of sorts. As all knowing as I sound, I honestly have no idea where this spell originated from. What’s important is that it works. This may be the simplest spell ya can do to alter the natural process of something doing something else. Plus it’s completely silent so it very safe," she explained before reaching over and taking both of my hands out of my lap.
I nervously looked at Patrick who smiled comfortingly and moved behind Daisy so I could see him more clearly. He looked me straight in the eyes and emphasized taking a deep breath, using his hands to motion up and down as he did so. I wasn’t sure why I was feeling so nervous, this wasn’t the strangest thing that had happened recently.
“Don’t worry Amy, nature spells are my specialty. The worst that can happen is we accidently grow some poison ivy and you get a rash” Daisy comforted.
“Is that really the worst it could be?” I asked.
“Probably not but we’re going to hope for the best of the worst," Daisy winked. “Now then, in most plant spells you would need an actual seed but in these circumstances we can just use our ampoule. This also mean that we can skip a lot of the chanting that has to do with the seed and just move onto the actual growing spell."
“It’s real simple. Just repeat whatever I say and focus really hard okay? Imagine the plant breaking through layer after layer of dirt, the roots twisting around rocks and other roots to make room for itself."
I took a breath through my nose and closed my eyes, my mouth fumbling to catch up with her quick words.
Inch by inch, row by row
Great Dragons bless this plant I sow
and then warm them from below
Till the rain comes tumblin' down
Pulling weeds and pickin' stones
Man is made of dreams and bones
Feel the need to grow my own
'Cause the time is close at hand
Rainful rain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature's chain
Tune my body and my brain
To the music from the land
Grown I ask straight and long
I temper you with prayer and song
Mother Dragon will make you strong
When I give her love and care
Over and over until it felt like all the water had been drained from my mouth. My mind was filled with small green leaves breaking through the damp dirt and stretching out further and further. A small violet flower curled open to the small slit of sun. The leaves didn’t stop growing, they kept reaching out to other plants, curling around those stems only to release another flower and keep moving on. Flower after flower bloomed till an ocean of violet and purple tangled it’s way into the dark greens of the current plants
I hadn’t realized it but we had both stopped chanting. I had grown to focused on what I was envisioning to continue repeating the words.
“Amy," Patrick whispered, suddenly very close to me and I slowly opened my eyes.
Patrick was crouching next to me, his hand on my shoulder, a smile on his face.
Slightly squished under the weight of the ampoule was a plethora of small purple flowers and little green leaves. My mouth slightly opened and Daisy removed her ampoule, allowing the flowers to have more room to grow.
“Absolutely amazing Amy. For a girl without an ampoule you sure have a lot of magic in you," Daisy praised and gave me a loving smile.
All the breath had been stolen from my lungs as my imaginary plant now stood proudly in front of me. The only thing I could do was daintily pick one of the small flowers and study it as if it wasn’t real which I wasn’t 100% convinced it was.
“Wild geranium or if you want to be witchy, Crows Foot," Daisy explained, picking another one and petting down one of the thin petals.
I continued to stare at the plant and could slightly see Patrick gleaming proudly next to me.
“Patrick, I want to be told when her ceremony is understand? I want to be there for it no matter what," Daisy said lowly as if I wouldn’t be able to hear her.
Patrick nodded and slightly shook my shoulder, knocking me out of my trance.
“We did this?” I finally said.
“Yes, but mostly you. My mind was completely blank the entire time. The idea of a geranium is from you. You were the one to stop chanting first, not me. You probably didn’t even know what you were doing. Why geraniums?” Daisy replied, standing and wiping off her slightly dirt stained clothes.
“I don’t know. They don’t even really grow around here or in Oregon," I confusedly answered.
It was pleasantly silent for a few moments while my body cooled down from the joy and excitement I was feeling. But then the sound of breaking twigs and muffled footsteps could be heard running through the forest towards us. We all stood, looking nervously towards the bushes and trees, perhaps expecting a deer or bear to jump out and trample us. The noise grew louder but the only thing it revealed was Felicity running towards, focused too much on her feet to realize she was about to run into us.
Daisy swung an arm out, catching the small girl in her arms and stopping her in her tracks.
“Daisy, Daisy mommy says to come quick!” Felicity squeaked breathlessly and turned out, sprinting back the way she came. Back towards the camp.
In a matter of seconds- no, milliseconds, we were also running, Daisy running faster than Patrick and I. In the distance we could see some people briskly walking and even cowering behind some trees.
Felicity took a sharp turn and ducking into her mother's side.
“Alli what’s going on? What happened," Patrick asked before any of us had the chance to catch our breath.
“It’s the Convocation. They’ve sent the Merc’s," Allison explained, gripping Felicity tightly.
Patrick and Daisy’s face went pale and they looked nervously to the small village. I looked as well and could just make out the houses and cabins. People stood outside of them staring intently at the ground while men with crossed arms talked to them. The people, who I assumed were the Merc’s continued to talk but the villagers only replied sometimes mostly in head shaking or nods. It was obvious the Merc’s were of much higher power and not used to be looked down on. From this far way, I could see kilts and fur cloaks that swept the ground.
“What? Who are they?” I asked. I almost felt like I wanted to be pulled into somebodies side and hugged tightly.
“Why are they here?” Felicity whimpered. For her I was easily okay with being ignored.
“I don’t know sweetie." Eva whispered comfortingly but turned grim upon looking to us three. “The last time they were here they nearly killed the man they were trying to arrest."
“Who could they possibly be after. No one has committed any crimes in years," Daisy muttered, mostly to herself. Her eyes were still trained on the camp, unmoved by the rest of our shuttering.
“Seriously guys, who are the Merc’s?” I asked again, a bit louder so I could get someone’s attention.
“Sorry, Amy… uh they’re mercenaries. Basically like the Convocation’s own personal magic army," Patrick stuttered, peeling his eyes away from the men and women in robes to look at me.
“Okay… and the Convocation?” I asked.
“No time," Daisy said and held Patrick by the shoulder. “Get her out of here now."
“What about you guys," Patrick replied.
“We’ll be fine. She doesn’t need to be get tangled into something that doesn’t concern her. They’re going to question everyone and ask why she’s over age and doesn’t have a ampoule. There is going to be a lot of questions nobody wants to have to explain," Daisy snapped. “Go. Now."
And then I was being dragged several feet away to where Patrick placed his ampoule in my hands.
“You remember the spell right?” He asked and I nodded. “Good. It’s going to be difficult on your own without candles or your own ampoule, but you have to go back to Oregon."
I looked at him incredulously and said, “Wait, on my own? What about you? I can’t do this on my own."
“I gotta figure out what’s going on. I know you can do this Amy. We share blood which means you should be able to use my magic like how we both used my magic to get here in the first place," he comforted. Patrick looked back to Daisy and Allison who were now joined by a man and a very tall women. They were not dressed in merc clothing so I assumed they were other villagers hiding in fear.
“Patrick," I said, getting his attention. “What is going on?”
“I promise I’ll explain later, but for now you have to get to safety. I’ll follow you as soon as I can," Patrick said. “I promise.”
He was already half way back to the small trembling group before I could continue to argue. In my own trembling hands, I rolled Patrick’s ampoule back and forth and begged my mind to remember the words so I could go home.
“So you going to explain Miss Daisy in Maine?” I asked.
“Shut up Amy."
“Don’t fall asleep again Patrick, come on. Please?”
“Amethyst I swear if you don’t go to bed right now…”
“It’s like five in the morning. It’s no longer night."
“Exactly, five in the morning. How are you even awake?”
“I did just find out that I am an ancient witch, I think that can cause a little insomnia."
“You’re not going to stop until we’re in Maine are you?”
“We’re going to Maine!?”
“Oh my… fine," he grunted.
I couldn’t see anything but the next thing I knew the light was on and Patrick was rubbing his eyes, his hair a mess as he glared at me from the couch. I was laying in the bed, wide awake as I grinned at him. He rolled out of bed, nearly falling off the couch and stood up, running into the wall, before pulling clothes from the drawers.
“Wear something." yawn “Warm. I think it’s supposed to be cold right now," Patrick said slipping into the bathroom where I could hear yet more yawns.
I giddily jumped out of bed and began digging through my clothes that I had put in one of the bottom drawers that had been built into the side of the trailer. I wasn’t really sure what I was so happy about but I had never been out of Oregon and Maine was across the entire country.
“Hurry up," I pounded on the door, I was pretty sure that he had fallen asleep on the two inch by two inch bathroom floor. “If you want me to top being annoying you better get me to Maine fast!”
The door swung open, nearly smacking me square in the face, as he glared at me and laid face first on the couch, grumbling about how it might as well still be night because of how dark it was outside.
“This is like every Christmas since we moved into Gram’s house!” He shouted as I started getting dressed. It was true, I wouldn’t be in the Christmas spirit for weeks then suddenly I would be banging on Patrick’s door to wake him up.
“Going to Maine beats any Christmas present!” I shouted back and exited finding him now half way on the floor, snoring his face off. I sighed, put my hands on my hips, and lightly kicked him with my now sock covered foot.
“We can’t even leave yet. I told you we have to go to Barney to get your ampoule dealt with," he mumbled, barely moving.
“Yeah, what’s the whole deal with that? I mean I know you explained it before but it would be wonderful if you could give me a few more details," I said, pulling my hair back into a ponytail that didn’t look any better than my original bed hair.
He sighed and sat up on the couch before explaining, “As I said before, an ampoule holds all our magic. We won’t actually know how much magic you have until you get an ampoule."
“How do you get magic in there in the first place? Like out of you and into a glass orb?”
“There is a ritual of sorts. A weird mystical druid and celtic ritual that binds you to your ampoule. It’s a blood ritual, your magic is in your blood. Basically you bleed into some melted glass which then goes to a different camp where they have furnaces where they shape, bless, and place a protection charm on your ampoule."
“How do you use it?”
“That part is simple. The thing is basically bleeding magic all the time. Only someone who is related to you by blood can use your ampoule. That’s how you got to use your moms. Since it is literally all magic, all you have to do is have it touching you and bam, you’re a witch."
“Throw it on the ground and you get transported to a secret community," I summed up.
“Bingo," he whispered.
“So I’ve had magic in me all along?”
“Yep," Patrick said. I nodded slowly, staring at the floor. After a few seconds of silence Patrick asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. If I get an ampoule does that mean I have to do the sacrificial ritual?”
“Well, obviously. Everyone had to do it. Even me. It’s not that bad," Patrick said, standing and showing me the palm of his hand, a straight white scar in the middle of his hand that I recognized.
“You little turd! You told me you cut your hand trying to make me a birthday cake!” I slightly shouted and slapped his hand away.
“Because I can totally bake a cake. I got it from some bakery," he explained.
“I cannot believe you!” I shouted, no longer holding back.
“It was like 10 years ago get over it!”
I shut my mouth, pressed my lips shut. He did the same and we stared at each other before we burst out giggling. Our cheeks were turning red as I fell to the couch. It was the earliest I had ever laughed and probably the earliest I had ever been awake, not even school started this early.
“Alright. I’m definitely awake now. Let’s go, we’ll talk to Barney later," Patrick sighed, grabbing his jean jacket and throwing an arm around my shoulders.
Outside there were a few gas powered lamps flickering on, clearly just to light the way in case anyone wanted to go for a midnight stroll. It wasn’t actually that dark out, and it wasn’t five in the morning, about 9 AM at the most. The fire outside of the twin's tent was still puffing smoke, either they left it going or they had just gone to bed. Either one was a bad idea. Besides the smell of smoke, the obnoxious sound of crickets was thick in the air while Patrick stretched once more then headed towards the smoldering fire that was outside Lee and Delia’s tent.
Pulling back the canvas flap of the tent, Patrick peered inside and asked, “Changed your mind yet?”
Instead of a verbal answer, he was smacked in the face with a patched up pillow. We got about the same response from Griffin, Cameron, and Ferris.
“Tell her I said hi. I think her little nephew is with her so tell him hi too." was the only thing that Delia said before continuing to drool on her pillow.
“Alright, come on," Patrick said, heading away from the camp. “No travel magic inside the walls. We need some candles."
+++++++++
We stood across from each other, a white candle in one of my hands while Patrick held his ampoule. On the ground was another white candle, a purple candle, and a orangish red candle along with a single leaf of some tree that grew in Maine. This spell was supposed to grant safe passage to someone who was traveling, whether it was yourself or not. Patrick had explained that we didn’t usually need candles but it would be easier with them because I had no real use over my magic yet.
“You ready," Patrick asked and I nodded, watching the wax drip down the candle slowly. “Okay, take my hand and you got to say this with me, even if you don’t have an ampoule you’ve still got magic."
“Let’s do this ‘cuz," I said and took his sweaty hand.
Then he chanted, and it sounded like this:
"Hail Mother of the World!
Nanna, Isis, Astarte, Selene, Holy Sheen
See me, look upon me
See me, look upon me
See me, look upon me
Protect me and my people tonight.
Send your white light around me.
Send your protective light around me
That they may be protected
As they travel and as they dream.
Send only good and lucid energies their way.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
“Repeat it as best you can, it may take few tries but you’ll get it down," Patrick comforted and I nodded.
And then the chanting began, it was just like in the movies. Our voices mixed together, our eyes shut, and yes, the wind began to blow. It felt similar to when I had first come into the camp and ended up nearly throwing up except this time it didn’t stop immediately. It took a few moments and while that was happening I was trying to keep my balance while Patrick continued to chant. My mind went fuzzy, pictures that imitated fireworks exploded behind my eyelids until everything froze, and I fell to my knees. Patrick tried to catch me, I felt his hands on my forearms but I sunk to my knees, the grass collapsing around me.
“That was great Amy. Amazing for someone who hasn’t used magic before," he praised and I slowly opened my eyes, looking up at him dizzily before stumbling to my feet and glancing around, holding onto Patrick's arms to support.
“Wait a minute, weren’t we supposed to move?” I asked, my stomach had flipped upside down and was now refusing to go back to normal.
Even through my blurry eyes, I could tell we were in a forest. And it looked extremely similar to Siuslaw forest, just without the brick wall. There were trees, rocks, distant trails, and a few birds peering down at us as if judging us with beady little eyes. Another thing, it was much lighter here than in the dark camp we had supposedly just left.
“We did leave. We’re in Maine," Patrick replied, smiling at me as I looked around confused.
“Patrick, you’re crazy. We’re still in Oregon weirdo," I sighed, crossing my arms,
“Oh be quiet and watch," he rolled his eyes and took my hand again. He slowly let his ampoule roll from his fingers to the ground; it hit with a thunk and the world once again began to spin.
“Aren’t you a little old for that," Patrick asked as I poured milk into my cereal.
I looked over and glared. Slamming the milk carton down and taking a seat, I wrapped one of the quilts tighter around me. I had woken up not even 5 minutes ago due to Patrick's obnoxious pestering about how grams was going to be here in half an hour, which could potentially be dangerous to everyone. Apparently, she had called Barney and Barney had told Patrick she was coming to talk about what to do with the fact I now knew about my family's secret.
“You have your gross, generic, rice squares and I will have my Lucky Charms. Thank you very much," I replied, stuffing an entire spoonful of marshmallows into my mouth.
“They’re Wheaties and they’re healthy," he grumbled and sat down across from me.
“Is this the true Patrick? Not banana and mayonnaise sandwiches but actual healthy food?” I sarcastically gasped and he rolled his eyes.
“Oh no, I’ve got an entire jar of mayo in that fridge but breakfast is the one meal of the day I will not ruin with ketchup or cheese," he clarified and I fake gagged on my spoon.
After a few moments of silent chomping and launching soggy pieces of cereal at each other, Patrick checked his watch and decided we should get to the wall before grams did. He gave me one of his flannels to wear over my tank top from yesterday and beanie before opening the door and letting me go first.
The entire camp was already in full swing. People were up and about, talking and laughing. There was music playing from one corner of the camp and I noticed a few of the people I had met yesterday were playing flutes and fiddles, tuning them slowly and carefully, before playing a quick tune. There was another sound mixed in, one from yesterday. The clanging and banging sound I had heard from when I back near the wall. I now saw it was multiple people banging hammers against metal and wood tables. They wore leather aprons and their faces were extremely smudged, they took the Welders to a whole new level. I’m not sure what I was expecting though, pointy hats with magic wands?
“What are they doing?” I asked as we walked.
“I’ll explain later, we need to worry about grams right now," Patrick hurriedly said and placed his arm over my shoulders.
I didn’t say anything until we left the camp and began to head towards the wall. When we had successfully the small brick columns I looked up at Patrick and asked, “So… what’s the deal with the wall?”
He sighed and replied, “Every now and then we get animals like deer and bears that we don’t exactly want walking through the camp, therefore the wall was built. It was going to be back there were those brick things are but Barney thought we needed more room to expand."
We stood at the wire gate with the glass orb at the center, waiting from my grandmother to rain he fiery wrath down upon us.
“What are you going to tell grams?” I asked, leaning against the wall after about 5 minutes of waiting.
“Boy you have more questions than yesterday," Patrick chuckled and I rolled my eyes. “I’m going to explain how you got here and how I think it is a good idea for you to stay."
“Stay?”
“You know, here. With the Welders."
“And like learn magic."
“Well duh."
“Would I be aloud to leave? I mean half the people here look like they haven’t seen a working toilet in years."
“Once again: duh. I get to leave whenever, the others just choose not to. Everyone's families are either in Europe or some other camp, they have no reason to leave. Besides, there is no way I could keep my cousin hostage."
“Like you wouldn’t try."
“True," Patrick agreed.
“Then I suppose it is a good thing I am here." A voice said and we both turned to the fence.
Even here, my grandmother was wearing her pastel blue skirt and blazer, she looked way out of place with the trees...and the dirt...and nature really. She was carrying a large red duffel bag that looked more natural than she did. Patrick quickly unlocked the gate, producing a skeleton key out of nowhere and placed the padlock on a protruding brick.
“Look at you," My grandmother said as she stood beside us. “Not even 24 hours here and you already look like a pretween lumberjack."
“Hang on now, I am at least 85% sure you gave me that shirt," Patrick defended as I glanced down at the yellow and green flannel.
“Yes I know," she replied and smiled at him. He scoffed and began rechaining the gate. “And I regret it every time I see him wear it," she whispered to me and I couldn’t help but snicker.
My grandmother didn’t say anything until we were outside of the trailer. She looked over the camp, a smile on her face, and said, “Isn’t it odd how nothing changes?”
“How long has it been since you were here?” I asked as I opened the door.
“A few months, four at the most." grams replied and entered. “I also see the state of your residence hasn’t changed either."
“At least I keep my room at home clean," he grumbled.
“I suppose, besides, I didn’t walk all the way into this forest and to this camp to tell you to wash the dishes." grams replied and sat down at one of the kitchen chairs. Patrick did the same which left me to sit across from them on the couch.
“Can I just say we should treat this like any other new Welder? She has a right to learn anything that I have been learning for the past 10 years," Patrick finally suggested after a very long and awkward silence.
I looked at him, shocked that he had been here for 10 years while my grandmother said, “Well obviously."
It was my grandmothers turn to be looked at in shock as I asked, “Wait, you’re letting me stay?”
“Well there’s no point in me taking you away from here, you already know. What I’m wondering is do you want to stay," My grandmother replied, linking her fingers together and sitting back.
I glanced from Patrick to my grandmother and back to Patrick. My grams never already had her mind made up in a few hours. As far as I knew, Patrick had contacted her to tell her where I was this morning, which wasn’t that much time. She usually had to sleep on it or at least bribe her into giving you an answer. In this amount of time, it was a new highscore.
“Uhm… wait. Really?” I asked, still not sure if what I had heard was true. Maybe this place really was magic.
“Of course darling, what’s the point of dragging you kicking and screaming out of here when you already know basically everything," she replied. “Now, do you want to stay or not?”
“Absolutely," I quickly replied, almost before the question was out of her iridescent pink lips.
“Wonderful, otherwise I would have packed all these clothes for nothing." grams smiled and nudged the duffle bag towards me with her toe.
I quickly picked it up and unzipped it, finding most of my sweaters and jeans along with a different pair of shoes. Also inside was my picture frame of my mother and I on my 6th birthday.We had gone to the county fair.
“Thank you for grabbing the picture," I said and looked up at her.
“I’d thought you’d want that, always good to keep home with you. Now then, onto suitable housing-” My grams started, ready to go full architect on me.
“She can stay here. At least until I get sick of her or she decides that me leaving the toilet seat up is enough to make her want to move out," Patrick butted in.
“Alrighty, I guess that’s it then. I’ll come check in on Tuesday to make sure everything's running smoothly. Patrick I trust you’ll look out for Amy, teach her if you want." grams said, eyeing Patrick who quickly nodded. “Good, good. Then I will see you on Tuesday darlings."
She stood and Patrick and I followed, she opened the door and was halfway to the wall before I turned to my cousin and wondered out loud, “Did that really just happen?”
“Yep," he replied and held up a fist. I bumped it and he let out an airy laugh, turning back into the trailer.
“Huh," I decided and followed Patrick.
+++++++++
I felt like I was supposed to be freaking out. That I was supposed to be hyperventilating and having a midlife crisis. Not sitting next to Lee as he whittled a stick to a very sharp point. Not watching Cameron skillfully braid and bead a piece of jewelry that was more intricate than I could have ever done.
“So, Amy, you’ve decided to join to the band of misfit magicians?” The long haired boy asked me, blowing the pieces of saw dust of his sharpened stick. This guy had my kind of humor.
“I was thinking more Hogwart rejects," I replied and he chuckled.
We were all sitting around the fire, which seemed to always be burning, while Delia was picking at pieces of grass and trying to mimic Cameron's movements. It wasn’t until I looked away from Cameron's fingers did I notice how closely Patrick was looking at Griffin who was stabbing at the fire with Lee’s messed up branches.
I leaned over to Patrick and whispered, “Do I know Griffin from somewhere? His name is really familiar."
Patrick looked as if he had been caught in the middle of a bank robbery and replied, “No, nope, never. I mean, when would you have ever met someone else named Griffin?”
“Hmm? I heard my name," Griffin said, looking up from his deep concentration. Patrick quickly disregarded it, his cheeks burning pink and I curiously looked between them.
It was clear nothing else was going to happen for the rest of the day. We basically repeated everything from the night before, except now it was lunch and it appeared Griffin and Cameron was a hot spot for good food. Eventually Ferris joined us, sporting a very interesting vintage civil war coat that I made a mental note to ask about later.
“I think you’ll get used to us soon enough," Griffin said, putting a blanket around Cameron’s shoulders how instantly began to sign something and Griffin smiled.
“She says that you’ll get used to everyone but me. Apparently my feet stink," Griffin said, playfully glaring at Cameron.
“Alright enough chit chat, soups on! Actually we had soup yesterday, today you’re getting chicken." Ferris said setting out a large plate of barbecued chicken on the same tree stump from yesterday.
“Aren’t all 17 year olds to only know how to make cereal and ramen noodle?” I asked Patrick as we stood in line, already eating a rolls from a basket that had been passed down a few moments ago.
“Well in secret wizard camps you get free cooking lessons," Patrick replied, reaching for a chicken leg. I rolled my eyes but didn’t say anything, my stomach growling.
If I was going to stay here, somebody was going to have to sign me up for these secret magic cooking lessons because oh my goodness, Welders knew how to cook. And honestly, for living out in the woods they were extremely polite. Whenever somebody would stand for more food, they would ask if anyone wanted another orange or wanted another roll. Everyone held a napkin under their plate and said “bless you” when someone sneezed. But the food honestly took the cake.
I bet even their brussel sprouts tasted good.
The rolls honestly tasted like they had been dipped into a vat of butter and rainbows. The chicken was cooked all the way through and all the fruit was perfectly ripe, not even bruised in the least bit. Even the water that I was 85% sure was coming from a spring outside of the wall (they were just refilling bottles), tasted cleaner than the other bottled stuff in grams fridge.
“You keep eating those rolls you’re going to get fat," Patrick informed me, peeling a small orange.
“So?” I asked, my mouth full. Patrick shrugged, probably deciding not come in between me and my food before I was actually full.
“Patty, since Amy here has chosen to stay with us, what is the first thing you are going to show her? I mean I’m sure she’s very eager," Griffin asked Patrick after we had all settled down and stacked our plates.
I had been to lost in the food to realize I was in fact among celtic witches and wizards so I immediately put in, “Yes Patrick, what do you plan on showing me first?”
“Well, first thing tomorrow we’re going to Barney to talk to him about getting you an ampoule and then we’ll go to Daisy’s, show you around and bit," Patrick replied, wiping his hands on his jean pants, something that would have angered grams if she had been here.
“Oh what! You’re going tomorrow? I haven’t been able to see her in forever, dang it," Delia groaned and slumped back in her folding chair,
“You could always join us," Patrick offered.
“Can’t Lee’s making me go hunting with him, I’ve been dodging it for too long," she sighed and glared at her brother who grinned at her.
“Who is Daisy?” I asked, there were too many names to remember in this place, and often times they were extremely strange.
“Friend of ours, has a little shop," Griffin explained.
I glanced up and down the rows of tents and shacks, there was no room for any kind of actual building besides Barneys massive mansion which was currently lit up, which raised another question: How, in any way, is he getting electricity out here?
Lee must have noticed my confusion because he said, “Oh not here, Maine."
“M-Maine?” I stuttered, shocked,
“I’ll explain it when we get to that point," Patrick informed me.
“You can’t just say that and not-”
“See this is what happens you guys. Now she’s going to be asking for the rest of the day and I’m not going to get to show her anything today because she’ll be to busy asking about Maine," Patrick rambled while everyone was trying hard not to laugh, and failing.
“Well sorry that I’m not an all knowing sorcerer!” I replied.
At this point everyone was laughing, whether it was at or with us, nobody knew. Delia had slid halfway off her chair, giggling at who knows what. Even Patrick was hiding his face while his eyes squinted closed. But the one with the funniest laugh was Cameron. I didn’t expect to ever hear anything pass her lips but her laugh was so incredibly airy and high pitched I was laughing at her laugh which was not as adorable as hers.
“I should start coming around for lunch more often." Ferris said, trying hard to catch his breath.
“Believe me, it’s not usually like this. I’m beginning to like you Miss Preston," Griffin said, pointing a chicken bone at me.
Even if I was supposed to be hyperventilating or breathing into a paper bag, hyperventilating because I was laughing so much was much better than breathing into a paper bag because I freaking out about being a wizard. Yeah, I could get used to this.
+++++++++
“Today was nice," I said, bumping my shoulder into my cousin. He didn’t actually show me anything today, which was okay, and we now sat just outside of his trailer on a patch of grass.
“Yeah," Patrick questioned, throwing a small rock into a bush. I nodded and sighed, leaning my head on his shoulder.
There was another peaceful silence that fell over us then, just quiet as the sun slowly set and everyone moved to their tents. Fires were being relit and the smell of food was coming from every direction. We had all agreed that we had had enough lunch and that we had had enough of each other to last the rest of the night.
“I had a crush on him," Patrick suddenly said and I raised my head from his shoulder and looked at him questioningly. “Griffin."
“Really?”
“Yeah, a while ago. I think I talked about him one night."
“Huh… do you still?”
Patrick only shrugged and refused to make eye contact. I, on the other hand, was blushing uncontrollably and smiling like a 5 year old that had just got the best news ever.
