Woman King

CHAPTER 18

My sleep had been restless, but this time I had the vampire to thank for my insomnia. His kiss had seared my soul, and I’d spent the evening tossing and turning, yearning for him in a way I had never wanted a man before.

The timing of our meeting, I realized, firing up my espresso machine, was horrendous. I was running a multi-million dollar campaign and assuming a new role as a consultant. My window for romance was slim at best, assuming I could even find William Ferrell again.

I must have been daydreaming because I did not hear Elsa come into the kitchen. “How was the concert?” she asked.

“Good, fun,” I said. “I met a vampire. His name is William.”

“You met a vampire, as in he came up and introduced himself?”

“Yes. Sort of…what I mean is I had been staring at him, err watching him perform. He’s in a band,” I managed to stutter out, sounding like a teenager.

“And, what happened?” she asked, sounding like my mother, which got my defenses up.

“I am over thirty years old,” I said, sounding more like a teenager. “I can take care of myself.”

Elsa was shaking her head in a way that oddly reminded me of William. Once again I was going to be lectured on all the things I didn’t know. I held my hands out in front of me to indicate I wasn’t in the mood.

“Listen, he already told me I didn’t know what I was getting into,” I said. “And he told me you would not approve at all.”

“He was right,” she said. “Vampires are serious creatures, Olivia. They do not make friends with humans.”

“So I’ve been told,” I said. “Listen. I will probably never see him again, so let’s drop it.”

Elsa nodded, and I went back to making myself a cappuccino. Once that was out of the way, we discussed how to contact Nadia, the witch versed in old magic who would transfer the map of the portals onto my skin. It would not be hard to locate her, Elsa said; she could be found most days feeding the ducks and geese at Stow Lake. All we had to do is walk over and look for her.

The sun was already high as we climbed to the top of the stairway at the foot of Stow Lake. The trees were lush and green and our surroundings seemed brighter against the brilliant October sky. There were turtles sunning themselves on logs, and ducks resting on the grass as Elsa scanned the perimeter of the lake, looking for Nadia.

“There she is.”

‘She’ turned out to be an elderly woman, who despite the heat, was dressed in multiple layers of clothing: tights, floral dress and a large cardigan sweater. And for good measure she had a floral scarf tied around her head and knotted at her chin. Next to her was a worn red wagon stuffed full of bags of bread pieces and birdseed. Nadia, it seemed, was well stocked for her work.

“That is Nadia?”

Elsa nodded. “You were expecting a pointy hat and a magic wand?”

“When you said old magic, I guess I got an image in my head of someone more scary looking,” I said, cringing at how stupid I sounded.

“I said o-l-d magic, not black magic,” Elsa said with a laugh. “But don’t be fooled. Nadia can be very scary when she needs to be.”

Nadia looked up and acknowledged us as we approached. She and Elsa began conversing in a language that sounded vaguely like Russian. The two chatted for a few minutes, each one periodically looking over at me. Finally, Nadia turned to face me completely. “This is going to hurt,” she said, sizing me up. “But it will be over quickly.”

I glanced around the lake, taking in our surroundings. There were a few other walkers strolling nearby, but for the most part it was empty. I wasn’t sure how this old magic was supposed to work, but I was pretty sure we didn’t want any witnesses. Nadia picked up on my thoughts and shook her head.

“I will come to you, to your home, in a few days,” she said. “In the meantime, I need something of yours, a hair or a fingernail.”

I looked over at Elsa at a loss, never having been a party to this kind of request before. In response, she yanked a hair off my head and handed it to Nadia. The elderly witch immediately reached into the pocket of her cardigan and took out a white handkerchief. Carefully, she put the hair inside the cloth and folded it closed. Then she returned the material to her pocket.

“How will I know when to expect you?” I asked, once again exposing my ignorance. But the old woman smiled and patted my arm.

“Don’t worry, I will find you.”

I wasn’t worried. I had read Nadia’s intentions while we were standing together and I was certain she meant me no harm. It was hard to tell her age, but she was well over 200 years old, judging by the color of her aura. I was getting good at reading tones and hues, and hers were not the stuff of the modern world. After a few more moments of pleasantries, we said goodbye and parted.

A few days later, I was working on my laptop at home when there was a knock on the door. Lily was over, sitting on the couch reading a book. Elsa was in the living room doing yoga. “It’s Nadia,” Elsa said from the other room, rising from her mat to open the door.

It seemed rude to stay seated, so Lily and I both got up and walked to the door to greet her. In the dusk light, Nadia looked much younger. She arrived with another colorful headscarf covering her hair, but up close her skin was moist and pale, almost flawless. She caught me scrutinizing her. “Thanks to the old ways, I age more slowly than one might think,” she said, looking at me directly.

Before I could ask what her secret was, she urged us to move in to the kitchen. The four of us walked in, and I took a seat at the peninsula. Nadia stood at the counter, unpacking a small bundle she had removed from her sweater pocket. Slowly, she unrolled the cloth to reveal a small brown glass jar filled with a clear liquid, and a paintbrush. The brush was made of a dark wood and was ornately decorated with symbols I could not decipher. The hairs of the brush were stark white and shaped into a point.

“Are you left-handed or right-handed, “ Nadia asked, grabbing my attention away from her supplies.

“Right,” I said as she placed the jar and brush on the counter.

“OK then. We’ll do your left hand because it will be sore for a day or two.”

This conversation made me a little uneasy. I had a vision of my left arm blackened and hanging limply from my side. Lily came up behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be scared,” she said quietly. “I’ve seen this kind of old magic before many times. It will feel a little like getting a tattoo. A short sting, and then the next day your skin will feel as if it has been burned.”

I washed my left forearm in the sink and dried it. Then, following her directions, I laid my arm on the counter. Nadia removed her heavy cardigan, saying she was warm, and instructed Elsa to bring her a candle and some salt. Elsa brought both items to her and took a step back.

“Dim the lights,” Nadia said to no one in particular. Lily got up and turned off most of the lights in the kitchen, leaving a single bulb above the stove for illumination. Then Nadia lit a small white candle and picked up the glass bottle. She ran the flame under the bottle several times and then tilted the candle until it began to drip wax onto the counter.

“North. South,” she chanted in her Russian-tinged English. “East. West. These are the directions in which we travel.” She continued to drip wax until the face of a compass appeared. When she was done, she asked Lily to slowly sprinkle salt along the wax pattern as she spoke. Nadia ran the flame of the candle under the bottle one more time and then began to murmur the words of a spell under her breath. Slowly she unscrewed the cap on the bottle and handed the candle to Elsa. Then she picked up the paintbrush. Symbols began to glow when she clasped the handle. Nadia dipped the brush into the jar and continued to speak.

“Subnoto. Signum. Terminus.”

As soon as the brush touched my arm it began to sting. I had expected her to draw the images on my arm, adding each site I had seen on the map. Instead she was running the brush up and down the length of my arm, much the same way a painter would try to cover a wall. As my arm was coated with the liquid, exact copies of the line drawings I had seen on the map began to appear. I’m not sure how long it took her to complete the process. I was transfixed, watching the map take shape on my arm. The pain was no less and no more than what Nadia and Lily had promised. It stung and my arm burned, but I was almost too distracted by the magic to be uncomfortable.

When Nadia was finished, she asked Lily to put the last of the salt on the wax compass on the counter. Then the old witch placed the brush in the flame of the candle and said “Termino.” The hairs of the brush glowed, but did not catch fire.

I looked down at my arm. There were a half dozen line drawings sitting at the surface of my skin, all angry red and swollen at the edges.

“Can I touch?” I asked, hoping I could put a cold cloth or some ice on my arm. Nadia nodded and took a small clay jar out of the other pocket of her sweater, which I was beginning to suspect was bewitched to hold anything she needed. She opened the pot and moved it under my nose several times so I could pick up the fragrance. “Calendula flowers,” she said, as I smiled at the scent. “It will help your skin heal.” Nadia rubbed the salve on my arm and asked Elsa to bandage it for the night. “In the morning, you can remove the bandage,” she added, as she began to pack up her belongings.

“What will it look like tomorrow?” I asked, worried there would be some big, ugly mess on my arm.

“The map will be visible for the next few days, but only to you,” she continued. “It will disappear and only return when you request it.”

“Request,” I repeated, but Nadia shook her head.

“Not out loud. All you need to do is think about the map to see it. The map is bound to you now.” I stared at my arm, marveling at how, for the second time in recent weeks, I’d managed to stamp myself with permanent ink.

“There is one more thing,” Nadia said, interrupting my thoughts. “The map will change.”

This caught everyone’s attention.

“How do you mean?” Lily asked.

Nadia fixed a stare on the three of us, much like a schoolteacher dealing with an inept student. “The magic that binds the map is a part of the same spell that creates the portals. If the locations change, or a route is blocked, you will see it.”

“And if I leave San Francisco?” I asked, thinking this handy information.

Again, Nadia fixed me with eyes that spoke volumes about my inexperience. “The map will display the portals located in the place where you are. If your arm is blank, it means there is no exit.”

That sounded ominous.

“I think it’s time for tea,” Lily interjected, thankfully.

We made Nadia a cup of tea and the four of us sat in amicable silence for a few minutes. Finally the old woman stood up abruptly and declared that she was tired and wanted to leave.

“I will walk you,” Elsa offered, but Nadia declined, saying a walk in the crisp night air would do her some good.

When we reached the door, Nadia asked for my hand and began to examine my palm. She stood quietly for a few moments and then spoke. “You are destined for great things, Olivia. You have a long life line and…” Nadia had stopped speaking.

“And what?” I prodded.

“You have a great adventure ahead,” she said, almost squinting at my palm. “I see two great loves will enter your life.”

I replied with my own question. “Did I make the right decision joining the Council?”

Nadia squeezed my hand and stepped closer to me to ensure only I could hear her whispered words. “That was not your choice, miloska,” she said. “Women kings are born and must accept their fate.”

“There is no such thing,” I said back.

Nadia began to leave. “Oh, but there is,” she said nodding. “There is.” And then she quickly walked down the stairway, on to the sidewalk and into the night.

I remained in the doorway, unsure of what to think. I decided it was better not to mention too much to Lily or Elsa, who’d stayed in the kitchen. I knew Nadia wasn’t crazy, but she was old and maybe a little bit nostalgic for a different time. I walked back into the kitchen to find Elsa tearing a linen dish rage into strips for my arm.

Lily broke the silence. “OK, tell us: Did she read your palm?”

I nodded. “Yes. She said I would live a long life and have two great loves. I assume she meant the two of you,” I said, trying to make a joke out of it. But neither Lily nor Elsa was laughing.

“Nadia is a great seer,” Lily said. “If she said love, she means it.”

I found the entire conversation a little overwhelming after my cartography session. “How will I ever find one love, let alone two, when I’ve got a campaign to run and you two as my chaperons every evening?”

“Whatever Nadia told you is going to come true, Olivia. So you’d better be prepared,” Lily said, undeterred.