His eyes widened but he said nothing, merely held up his crossed fingers as if to ward off my evil threat.
Ah, well. So everyone would enjoy a good laugh at my expense. I had managed to live through these moments before and would do so again.
As soon as I sat down, Mom came toddling over with a sturdy wooden tray and set it on the coffee table in front of me. Anyone still standing quickly took seats on the couches and chairs. I still couldn’t believe Guru Bob was staying for the show.
Dazed, I stared at the tray filled with Mom’s usual arsenal of witchy tools and props. There was the ubiquitous bundle of white sage, tightly wrapped, to be burned and waved in my vicinity to cleanse away negativity; a miniature bucket filled with sand used for extinguishing the smoking sage; a bowl of blue glitter that left me curious since I’d never seen Mom use blue glitter in a ritual before; three small dishes filled with different herbs for summoning helpful spirits or banishing malicious vibes; a slender, foot-long oak branch that Mom used as a magic wand in ceremonies that called for a strong, protective wood influence; and three small, colorful candles.
I could tell that the candles had been glossed up with Mom’s special blend of magic oil. She infused the oil with a light scent of orange blossom that was said to bring both harmony and power to the fore.
A witch always “dressed” or oiled her candles before she burned them in order to establish a psychic link between herself and the candles. By rubbing on the oil herself, Mom charged the candles with her touch, sending unique vibrations into the wax. The candles became an extension of her life force.
Candle colors were significant, too. Mom had chosen green for good luck and harmony; blue for protection, wisdom, and devotion; and white for peace and spirituality, always best when trying to establish contact with the goddess.
Mom slid the tray over and sat in front of me on the solid coffee table. She clasped both of my hands in hers and said, “Take a moment to ground yourself, Brooklyn.”
“Okay.” I snuggled in my chair and rubbed my shoes against the wood surface of the terrace.
“Visualize your root chakra shooting a light beam through the soles of your feet and into the earth, connecting you to the soil and centering your spirit. The beam runs both ways as you feel Mother Earth’s energy spiral up through your body, opening and cleansing every chakra and creating a harmonious balance within.”
I straightened my spine and felt the oddest tingling sensation. I breathed in and out slowly and allowed my mother’s words to wash over me.
She reached for the bowl of blue glitter. “Sparkling indigo,” she explained, “found in the crystalline mines outside of Marrakech and ground to a fine, shimmering powder. Indigo corresponds with the sixth chakra, your third eye. It speaks to the fearlessness within you, that part of you that seeks the truth no matter what the consequences.”
I’m not fearless, I thought. More like the opposite. I felt like a phony until I saw Derek watching me intently. Could he know what I was thinking? Was he worried for me? I was worried for myself!
“Now visualize a triple circle of blue light surrounding you, holding you within its strength and power,” Mom said, standing. “And repeat with me:
“Goddess, protect us with your might,
Grant us strength both day and night.”
We repeated the chant three times as Mom circled my chair, sprinkling three thin lines of indigo crystals on the ground around me.
She came to a stop behind me, placed her hands on my head, and chanted,
“Goddess, we seek your attention,
With open heart and true affection,
Give us strength where we are weak,
Bring the answers that we seek,
Shield my girl from evil’s curse,
This I plead through song and verse.
Goddess, thanks and blessed be,
As I speak, so mote it be.”
There was a moment of silence, then Mom picked up the first dish of crushed herbs. “Hold out your hands, sweetie,” she said, and sprinkled the contents onto my palms. “Dried bergamot leaves to protect you from harm.”
“I’ll take all you’ve got,” I murmured.
Mom pressed my hands together and chanted,
“Crush the herb and bind thy powers,
Let it multiply by hours.”
I rubbed my hands together until the dried leaves turned to a gritty dust. Then Mom lifted my hands above my head and opened them, allowing the wind to carry the dust away.
Next came sweet heliotrope petals to vitalize energy, mixed with sandalwood to heal, protect, and calm the mind. Mom repeated the same verse, asked me to crush the mixture, and let the powdery bits blow into the wind.
Picking up the third small bowl, she said, “The last dish contains bits of dried lemon peel to evoke protective spirits, grains of myrrh to guard against evil, and crushed apple seeds to bring peace of mind, love, and wisdom.”
“Bring it on,” I muttered, holding my hands out.
She repeated the words,
“Crush the herb and bind thy powers,
Let it multiply by hours.”