Chapter 33

The following day, they worked at the shop. A carpenter, recommended by Betsy, had installed shelves and repaired what few problems there were inside, and he was at work on the exterior when they arrived.

They spent the morning painting the interior and had the first coat done before noon. While they cleaned their brushes, Mary went to check the exterior. She returned in a few minutes later.

“We can paint outside tomorrow,” she announced.

“Maybe get the second coat here, too,” Frank added.

“It is coming faster than I expected.”

“Because we’re good,” Gail told her.

“We are,” Marjorie said. “What do we do with the rest of the day?”

“Talk about something I forgot,” Mary said. “The amulet. Then the story will almost be complete.”

“The spell we found in it saved Frank and I,” Gail said.

“There is more than the spell. We will never know all, but we now know some.”

“The incantation on the little piece of paper was Indian,” Marjorie said. “We knew that but never found out what it said.”

“It brought the giant bird,” Gail said.

“It was what some tribes call a Thunderbird,” Frank nodded. “Or I think it was.”

“We’ll talk at home,” Mary said. “This isn’t the place. The story isn’t long, but telling what I know about the amulet will end the tale.”

The carpenter walked in just as Mary finished and said he finished work on the clapboards.

“Four days,” he said. “I’ll get the numbers tallied and mail you the bill.”

“From what I see, you’ve done a good job,” Frank said.

“I do a lot of work for Betsy. Do it right and she keeps the phone ringing.” He glanced around. “Good painting, too.”

“We’re experts,” Gail said.

Mary started for the door. “Let’s go see what we’ll need outside.”

“You should use a primer on the new wood before painting it,” the carpenter said. “Other than that, a good coat of paint should make the place look like new.”

“That’s how we want it to look,” Mary replied.

“When will you open?” he asked.

“We’re hoping for the end of next month,” Frank said.

“Why so late? The building is almost ready.”

“Licenses, stuff like that.”

“Maybe I can help. I’ll be in touch.”

When his tools were packed in the back of his truck, he left with a wave and a reminder that he would help them navigate the small-town bureaucracy.

“We may open earlier than we thought,” Marjorie said.

“It would be nice,” Mary replied. “We have almost everything we need, thanks to Gail.”

“I just got the stuff that looked like the pictures,” Gail answered. “It could have been poison for all I knew.”

“Nonsense. You read about them. I taught you, and you remembered. And it was enjoyable being in the forest again.”

“I think you picked most of it.”

“We both picked about the same amount. Now you know what to look for, and you and Marjorie are both learning to make the medicines.”

“It’s interesting, discovering what herbs and plants can do,” Marjorie said.

Mary motioned to the car. “Let’s go home. My story needs to be done.”

They drove the few blocks and, after everyone showered, ate a quick lunch, and settled at the table, Mary looked at them. Gail, she saw, was eager to learn about the amulet, and that was understandable. Without it and the incantation, neither she, Frank, nor her brother, Jacob, would have survived.

“The amulet is old,” Mary began. “I don’t know if we will ever know its true age. They have handed it down from one to the next for centuries. When I received it, I put it away in my home and never thought of it again until the last encounter with Rebecca.”

“So,” Gail said, “you never really looked at it?”

“I knew what was in it, of course. When you receive something like that, you always look closely at it. The little paper with the writing meant nothing to me, yet I knew it belonged with the locket and left it inside.”

“Who is in the picture?”

“It is sad, but who she is and even her name is long forgotten. My mother did not know, nor did my grandmother, so long ago has the woman’s name been lost.”

“The paper had writing in Indian,” Frank said. “Remember, we tried to get it translated but they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help us.”

Mary nodded. “All I can think is, the spell is of such power we cannot say it unless danger is imminent. It is not one of our spells, and I am not familiar with it.”

“What about the locket?” Marjorie asked.

Mary stood and walked into the bedroom. A few seconds later, she returned with the piece. The bloodstone set into the middle gleamed red when a ray of sun through the kitchen window hit it.

“The picture and spell are inside,” she said, turning it over in her hand. “All is as it was when Frank found it in Danielsford, three years ago. It came from England with my grandmother. I’ve said, I do not know its origin, other than it is many centuries old.”

“When was the spell put in it?” Gail asked.

Mary shrugged. “My grandmother learned it, and she wrote it according to how the words sounded, and put it there.”

“Phonetically,” Frank said.

“Thank you. Phonetically. Fortunately for you, Gail, and Jacob, she wrote the words correctly.”

“Almost as if she knew she or someone might need it someday,” Marjorie said.

“Because someone might need it,” Mary said. “A more interesting story might be to learn how she met the Indians who gave it to her. We were not on friendly terms with them in those days, yet one befriended and trusted her, and liked her enough to give her one of their secrets.”

“It had to be a medicine man,” Gail said. “I don’t know what they call them.”

“Nor do I,” Mary said. “It doesn’t matter. Someone gave her the spell, she put it in the locket, and it saved you almost 400 years later.”

Gail spent five minutes telling the story about confronting Davina, an ally of Rebecca, and another of the old ones who came to the present. Frank listened, nodding as she described the giant foot with huge talons that took Davina away. When she finished, he had nothing to add. Gail did not exaggerate any part of the encounter.

“It was scary,” Frank added.

Gail agreed. “What scared me was not knowing if it would come back for us.”

Mary picked up the locket and studied it. She rubbed her fingers over the bloodstone, and along the metal.

“This should go to you,” she said, and handed it to Gail. “Treasure it as I have and as did all those who came before me.”

Gail’s eyes widened and tears welled in them. “It’s been in your family forever.”

“I don’t know if it has. The last two people to have it before me were family. Before them, it may have passed to those deserving of it. You are the next in line. Keep it in a safe place and know it will protect you if needed.”

“I will,” Gail replied. She looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. Her fingers caressed it lightly as she studied every part. “Can I open it?”

“You own it. Become familiar with it.”

She opened the locket and carefully removed the small, folded piece of paper and looked at the picture.

“It’s a small painting,” she said. “It’s so good, I thought it was a photograph.”

After a minute, she replaced the paper and closed the lid. “Can I put it around my neck?”

“It is yours, Gail.” Mary said again. “I would only caution you about one thing. Do not let anyone who is not fitting handle it.”

“Anyone who isn’t one of us.”

“Those who are not entitled. You will know.”

Gail stared at the locket and nodded. “My mother and father.”

“I cannot advise you. The locket is now your responsibility.”

“I don’t think my mother should touch it. I’ll have to think about Dad. What will happen?”

“When my mother gave it to me, she gave me the same warning and said if I allowed anyone unworthy to handle the amulet, I would suffer consequences. She never told me what.”

“There’s some kind of spell on it?”

“The spell follows it. It’s on the owner to protect it and keep it from being handled by the wrong people.”

Gail put it around her neck. The amulet hung halfway down her front. She looked at it again, as if wanting it to talk to her. “The only people I trust with it are right here. I won’t wear it. Then I won’t have to worry.”

“That’s wise,” Marjorie said.

“If the wrong person had it,” Frank asked, “what happens? I mean if someone stole it.”

Mary shook her head. “No one has ever stolen it. How could one blame the owner if a burglar took it? I think it would be bad for the burglar, but I do not know the spell. It is as ancient as the amulet.”

Frank looked at it. “When I saw it hanging from the marker I put at the site of Danielsford, something told me it was special or different.”

“It is both special and different,” Mary said. “The story is finished. Now, let us talk about our shop and what we’ll do tomorrow.”

“I need to go home and get some clothes,” Gail said. “Something old, so if paint gets on them it won’t matter.”

“We’ll do the outside,” Mary said. “With four of us, it should go fast.”

“I’ll track down a ladder. We’ll need one,” Frank said. “If we finish in time, maybe we can get some inside done, too.”

Marjorie looked at them. “We might have it ready by tomorrow afternoon or the day after.”

“Except for paperwork, it should be ready to stock,” Frank agreed. “We’ve got to get a sign made. If I had a workshop, I think I could do one.”

Mary’s smile was gentle. “You created a beautiful marker for me.”

“I still want to go there some day,” Gail said. “I should see where it all happened, and where the locket came from.”

Marjorie slapped her hand lightly on the table. “That settles it. When we’re done with the shop, we’re going to Danielsford. I want to see it too. I’ve heard about it for over three years. Now I want to see it.”

Mary laughed. “Then we will go.”

Frank remembered the walk in and thought he could find the way again. He didn’t look forward to the hike but, overruled, he could only agree.

“We can collect more stuff for the shop there, too,” Gail said.

“The area around the town has changed,” Mary said. “We can look and gather what we can.”

“Okay.” Gail stood. She took off the locket and carefully slid it into a pocket. “I won’t be long.”

“Supper will be in two hours,” Mary told her. “Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.” The girl spun and went out the door.

“You made her year, giving the locket to her,” Frank said.

Mary and Marjorie walked her to the door and watched until she climbed into her car, parked at the curb. They stood and waited while she drove away.

Mary turned from the door. “She is the right one to have it. It will be with her for many years. She is young, but wise beyond her age.” She looked at Marjorie. “I think as the years pass, she could become powerful.”

“We must mentor her and make sure she uses it for good.”

“You’re building a coven,” Frank joked.

“No,” Mary said. “We are friends who have a common gift. Such things as covens are nonsense. I don’t know when they began using the word.”

“Calling us a coven may be wrong,” Marjorie said, “but I can see the sign on the building one day being ‘The Healing Witches.’”

“It is very possible,” Mary said, with a soft chuckle.

Marjorie followed Mary into the dining area. “Speaking of supper, I guess we ought to start thinking about it.”

“Can I help?” Frank asked.

“Yes,” Mary replied. “Stay out of our way.”