Page 9 of Witchy Woman

It makes sense that Grandma is tied to the earth, with her big, beautiful garden at her cottage and her grounding personality. And I’ve noticed that whenever Hazel gets upset, it almost feels like there’s a small tornado whipping around until she calms down. And Mom—her connection to water was obvious the moment she disappeared in that liquid globe with Draven.

I take a deep breath as they both stare at me. “You know it’s unsettling as fuck when you both just stare at me unblinking like that, right?”

Hazel cracks a small smile and I can’t help returning it. Underneath it all, she’s my sister.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Grandma sasses. Rosie—her ancient black cat—trots over from the porch and plops into Grandma’s lap. I didn’t even notice the little feline was outside.She’s been accompanying Grandma when she stays over and it’s nice having an animal in the house.

Mom never allowed pets.

“Fire.”

Hazel’s eyes light up like she’s a kid on Christmas morning. “Really? Fire? That’s so cool. How did you find out?”

Do I lie or do I tell the truth? Do I tell them that fire has been whispering unintelligible nonsense to me since I got my first period at ten? Or do I make up some oh-I-set-something-on-fire-once-whoops excuse?

They’re staring at me again.

“Does it matter? I don’t know how to control it and that’s what we’re here for,” I say instead. Not a lie, but also get-the-fuck-out-of-my-face enough to hopefully get them to drop it.

Hazel’s eyes dim as she settles back onto her pillow. I don’t really want to push her away, it’s just subconscious at this point. I don’t know how to ask for what I need from her to rebuild our relationship. I don’t have the words.

“I suppose you’re correct, if not a little bit rude about it,” Grandma says, frowning at me. “Lessons are about connecting with—and harnessing—your magic and control. Because your magic is as much a part of you as each of your toes.”

“Interesting choice. Got a thing about feet?” I needle her.

“If I did, it would not be about your gnarled claws.”

A laugh bursts from me just as the fire crackles and pops. “Nice!”

“Oh, you two are impossible.” The corners of Hazel’s mouth turn up despite the words.

Rosiemews, batting her paw against Grandma’s arm in what looks like utter frustration.

“Right you are, Rosie dear. Getting back on track, we start with meditation,” Grandma continues, closing her eyes. She crosses her legs and settles onto the pillow, relaxing her body.

“You don’t have to close your eyes, but you do need to focus on relaxing and listening.” Grandma places her hands on the patch of ground purposefully left uncovered by the blanket, despite the cold. “Feel your body, feel every connection point. Where your hands touch, where your legs touch. We’ll start at the top of our heads today.”

Slowly, she has us tense and relax each muscle; it’s not long until I’m in a sort of trance. The air is thick and smoky, the fire crackling.

Whispering.

What are you saying to me? What do you want me to know?

I’m dry. Parched to the point of feeling like my skin will flake off in grains of sand.

Everything is hot.

Hot, hot, hot. And I can’t see. Can’t hear.

Only feel. Feel the lack of water and the heat. It’s so hot.

I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.

“Laura!” The call is jarring. “Laura!”

Hands are on my arms, shaking my body until I open my eyes to the backyard. To Grandma and Hazel. To the crackle and pop of the fire and the light of the stars in the sky.

“Laura, you were screaming,” Hazel murmurs, gathering me in her arms. For the first time in a long while, I don’t push her away. I burrow into her chest, into the refuge she provides.