“Ha! Apex predator my ass!” she crowed. Cleo realized with a start that she was… playing? Being playful? Huh. It was fun.
Ian took off at a loping run, deceptively fast in four legs. Cleo started to follow him, but the water bottle full of tea bumped against her hip weirdly. She slowed to a walk, liking the slight burn in her leg muscles. She petered out soon, feeling the burn in the deep of her lungs. She pulled energy from the woods, the song of the green space steady with her heartbeat. She tried to not take too much, just a little bit.
She took a long pull of the tea. She was drinking more now, and it was another thing she tried to box up and shove into the storage attic of her brain. It wasn’t totally working. Cleo took another sip, trying to focus on the song. It brought her back to herself. Meditative, in a way. She heard a crashing through the woods and knew that mass could only be Ian.
Cleo grinned and started to climb the closest tree. She wanted to see just how well bears could climb.
Chapter Twenty
Cleo had gone into the woods at night, needing a little space. Ian was lovely, but he was always touching her. Sweet, little loving strokes along her back, or a touch to her hand as they chatted. Cleo loved it, she told herself. This was great and normal. Still, one night she pulled on her hoodie and slipped out without telling Siobhan or Ian.
The murmur of the woods welcomed her. The poplars’ leaves shook a glad song, like an excited puppy wriggling and shaking its tail. Cleo walked slowly, reaching out for the rasp of bark under her hand. The woods hummed its contentment. She’d been away too long, luxuriating in the farce of being normal. She’d neglected her woods. It was still quieter than she was used to. Likely because of her neglect. No one to blame but herself.
Not all woods needed a green witch to survive, of course, but her presence helped, she knew. She strengthened her trees against infection and invasive insects. She’d worked hard to keep it lush and healthy. And in return, the woods gave her contentment. Its quiet song soothed brambles tangled around her mind. Cleo walked through the woods, her steps quiet as she meditated, sinking deeper into community with the green, lush space. Her legs never tired out here, as the woods generously gave her energy.
Still, she found an especially dark, quiet spot and sat on an overturned log. With a thought, she released the burrs that had attached themselves to her socks. Her shoulders sank as she breathed deep, her chin almost touching her chest. This was unconditional love. This was easy. And Cleo gave what she could to the woods, blessing it with her gifts.
When Siobhan spoke, cutting into the hush, Cleo nearly jumped out of her skin.
“How long do you intend on… whatever it is you’re doing?” Siobhan asked.
“Mother Moon,” Cleo exclaimed. The serenity she’d had was shattered. She could feel the peace, though, pressing against her disquiet and she borrowed some. She’d need it for this conversation.
“Are you meditating?” Siobhan asked, curiosity coloring her voice. With her head cocked to the side, she looked like an especially inquisitive bird.
“Of a sort,” Cleo said. Again, she was at a loss of words before her sister. “How long have you been following me?”
Siobhan shook her head. “I didn’t. I just kind of wandered over to where I thought you’d be. And here you are.”
“You wandered. Like, five miles in the woods,” Cleo said flatly.
Siobhan’s head shook like she was trying to find the outer limits of her neck. Impressive, but stupid.
“What’s going on with you?” Cleo asked.
Siobhan chewed on her lip. “You know how you said we’re cursed? Do you still believe that?” At Cleo’s nod, Siobhan continued. “I don’t know if I believe that. But nothing is working. Not meds, not therapy, not meditation, not exercise. I’ve gone gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free, vegan, vegetarian, pescatarian.”
Cleo interrupted her. “I don’t know what that is.”
Siobhan groaned in frustration. “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that’s worked, that’s ever worked, is that stupid tea from your boyfriend.”
He’s not my boyfriend, thought Cleo automatically.
“I feel like it’s helping, but I don’t know why. Why should some folk medicine bullshit help?”
“It’s more than folk medicine,” Cleo said quietly.
“It’s. Not. Magic.” Siobhan ground out. “That’s not a thing! Mental illness is a thing! Dealing with shit is a thing! There’s no such thing as magic!”
“What if I could prove it?” Cleo asked. “What if I could show you definitive proof?”
“Why now? Why not in the past the fifty other times we’ve had this conversation?”
“I’m stronger now. I’ve trained more. I have a coven, and that gives me strength. I know that mental illness is real, obviously.”
“Do you? But do you? Because I’ve got garden variety anxiety,” Siobhan said. “I take garden variety anxiety meds for it, and they help. They’ve helped so much. But this other.... thing, I can’t fix. I look at the men I’m dating and I just get so… so full of anger. Or sometimes it’s like he’s…”
“All you can see?” Cleo finished for her. “So you stopped dating? Me too. And let me guess - that helped, but it didn’t turn it off. It didn’t make it go away. The only way to make it stop is to wall yourself off from everyone.”
Siobhan was trying not to cry. She hated crying in front of other people, Cleo knew. It made her feel weak. Cleo was the same.
But Cleo had the benefit of understanding. “Keep drinking the tea. Come to my coven meeting. Have an open mind. Be ready.”
“Ready for what?” Siobhan wiped her eyes.
“Magic,” Cleo said.
Chapter Twenty-One
The morning of the full moon, Cleo woke Ian by straddling him, rocking against him in an unmistakable invitation. He groaned and accepted, and Cleo drank her
