Chapter 4

“I hope this isn’t going to hurt,” Leah thought as she sat on the stool in the center of the basement.  Leah’s mother and grandmother had been running up and down the stairs, setting everything up for the unbinding.
    The basement was aglow with the light of hundreds of candles, some seemed ancient, with intricate patterns and knots painted or etched into the wax.  Others were clearly bought from the drug store, but these candles were kept farther out of reach of the elegant scarlet cloths that draped over tables, chairs, and boxes, shimmering in the candlelight.
    Leah would have thought the display was beautiful.  If it wasn’t for the impending ritual that might as well kill her.  Leah really didn’t want to die, she had her mind set on that.  Nor did Leah wish to be seriously injured in any way, her family included.  She already willed this before her grandmother had even spoken to her about it, so she was pretty certain that everyone would be safe and sound.
    Almost.
    There was still a trickle of doubt in Leah’s mind.  Though it started small it grew and spread like some infectious disease, morphing and warping her thoughts.
    What if something went wrong?  What if she got killed?  What if her family was killed?  These were all serious things to worry about, but her grandmother said not to worry – that if she willed it everything would just be fine.  But how could she trust her grandmother now?  She trusted her fully, but still, she had faked her own death…
    As the thoughts and worry in Leah’s head reached a paramount, her mother had stopped the preparations of her own and walked over and crouched beside Leah.
    “I know how you feel Leah,” her mother said, eyes fixated upon Leah’s, “I know what it’s like to be scared of death, or of hurting others.  I know Leah, but know that you’re going to be okay.  You’re strong.  You’ve stuck it out through so much with me already, and I can’t let you give up now.  I’m here with you, so please don’t be afraid.  Baby, I love you, so please be strong  - for me.”  Leah’s mom, though a pre-menstrual powerhouse, truly loved and cared about her daughter, and she showed it as often as she allowed. 
    “No.  You don’t know how I feel!” Leah snapped, but she lowered her voice and softened her tone at the hurt expression in her mother’s eyes, “You don’t know what it’s like to have this whole new world opened up to your eyes and shoved upon you, or to find out that your grandmother is really alive, when you thought she was dead!  You grew up around all of this,” Leah said, gesturing around to the many candles and the scarlet silk sheets with golden symbols embroidered on them, “You’re used to this.  You’re used to risking your life, and putting yourself in danger.  You’re used to magic.  I’m not.”
    “Honey…” Leah’s mom said, hurt, reaching her hand out and putting it on Leah’s knee.
    Leah brushed it off.
    “No.  I’m mad and confused.  I don’t want to die and I don’t want to hurt you.  I don’t want to put everything I know behind me.  But that the same time I want to have magic, to help Franklinville, to help you and Nana, but I’m not sure I can.”
    “Leah…”
    “No!” said Leah, voice rising but dropping again, “Let me finish.  I’m still going to do it.  Not so much for myself, but for you and Nana.  For Franklinville.  Because I don’t know what is best for me, but I’m hoping whatever that is, that it’s also what is best for everyone else.  I can’t refuse this because I’m afraid or because I don’t want to.  It’s my responsibility, and I can’t just turn that down.” 
    Leah’s mother looked at her for a moment, tears welling up in her eyes.  She merely nodded her head before she got up and continued to prepare for the ceremony.
    Leah couldn’t believe what she just did.  She just accepted a dangerous task that could end up killing her, but, in reality, she didn’t seem to care all that much anymore.  Being a witch could be a good thing, hey, it could even be like being a superhero.  Well, minus the funny spandex costumes and the lame masks. 
    Nana set fire to something that looked like a bundle of plants bound together by string.  Nana walked about the room, wafting the smoke throughout the basement until it smelled like a cup of herbal tea.
    “Now,” said Nana, turning to Leah, “It’s time to start the ritual. 
    Leah felt a lump swell up in her throat.
    She was nervous.
    But there was no turning back now.  Leah made her decision and she had to follow through.
    Nana took Leah off of the stool she was sitting on and moved her to an altar.
    The altar was covered in a blood-red sheet of silk, and on top of that pebbles were arranged in what seemed like three spiraling symbols, but upon closer inspection it was all one pattern.  It looked ancient, if anything, and it was a very intricate and continuous design.  At each point in the spiral was a candle; three in total and these were not yet lit.  And in the center sat beaten copper bowl, filled with a dark grey powder. 
    Leah stood before the altar, her nerves acting now more than ever.  She could feel her breakfast churning it’s way back up her throat from her stomach.
    “Now, Leah,” Nana started, “Close your eyes, and take a deep breath.  We’re starting now, so relax completely.”
    Leah wondered how she was supposed to relax in a situation like this, but surprisingly it wasn’t too difficult because her stomach began to calm down and she no longer felt like throwing up all over the altar in front of her.
    Nana pulled a corked vial out of her dress and put it in Leah’s hands.  “Drink it when we tell you to, dear.”
    “Okay…” was Leah’s only reply.
    Leah closed her eyes and took another deep breath.
    They moved to the center of the room and Leah’s mother and Nana joined arms around her, and began to chant.  Leah couldn’t understand what her mother and grandmother were saying, and she wasn’t even all too sure that it was even English.
    Her mother and grandmother slowly stepped back, hands still outstretched, until there was a good deal of distance between them.
    A wind picked up in the basement, and it swirled about them, candles flickering, but not being extinguished.  The wind spun in a spiral and made a loud whirring noise in Leah’s ears, and she could barely hear.
    Nana stopped the chanting quickly to tell Leah to hold out her forefinger, and Leah did.  A small knife floated over to Leah from the altar, along with the beaten copper bowl. 
    Amongst the whirring of the wind, and the chanting of her mother and her grandmother, Leah was overwhelmed, and so much so that it wasn’t even a shock when the floating knife made a small cut on her forefinger.
    Some unknown force squeezed three drops of blood from her finger and into the copper bowl.  When this was done, both the knife and the bowl settled back in their proper places on the altar.
    The wind was at a constant speed, and though Leah’s mother and her grandmother had stopped their chanting, she could still hear their voices.
    It was in the wind.
    The wind carried their spell throughout the basement and into Leah’s ears.
    “Now!” her grandmother commanded, “Drink the potion!”
    Leah nodded curtly, and uncorked the bottle.  Without hesitation she threw back her head and drank the potion. 
    It burned slightly.
    Then, amongst the wind, the burning candles, and the chanting, thin cords appeared to be wrapped around Leah’s body.  They constricted her, and they were hot. 
    Leah caught a remorseful look in her mother’s eyes, but her mother quickly avoided eye contact by dropping her gaze to the floor. 
    The chants carried on the wind reached a crescendo.  The candles flickered violently all as Leah’s mother and Nana began to recite their spell
 

 

With this blood and essence of thee
    No longer shall this binding heed
    The powers granted at they birth
    From the creation of this earth
    Open now, this closed door
    Your magic shall be bound no more
    And through this spell that we cast here
    We now draw your powers near
    Manifest inside her heart
    Where there was once only an empty part
    Here shall her powers lie
    Strong and powerful until she dies

    The wind grew stronger as it whipped at Leah’s sides.  There was an immense pressure inside her ears, and the cords around her body seemed to grow tighter and tighter.
    Was she going to die?  Leah felt as though she was.  This was all too much; it was all too overwhelming, as she struggled to fight the constricting power of the translucent ropes that bound her body.
    The knife floated back from the table, and over to Leah.  Nana yelled something to Leah, but she couldn’t really make out what it was, but it sounded like some kind of warning.  Was it going to stab her?
    Leah braced herself, and willed with all that she could muster for no harm to be done to anyone, including herself.  Or killed. 
    The knife started for Leah, and she tried to move out of the way out of pure instinct, but the cords held her tight.  She was going to be stabbed to death by some floating knife.  The blade sliced through one cord, and she could feel the grip of them lighten, but just as the rope was cut, the wind picked up violently, and a few of the candles went out.  Nana and Leah’s mother were chanting again, shouting this time, to yell over the intensity of the whirring gale surrounding them. 
    Another cord was cut, and the wind grew even stronger still. 
    As each cord was cut loose, the wind grew stronger, even after it seemed as though it could not get any more violent.  Only one more cord was left.  This was it.  The worst is just about over!  The knife headed for her, and sliced off the final cord.
    Leah could not have been any more wrong in her life.
    As the last binding cord was cut free there was an immense amount of energy released.  Like a shockwave.  Emanating from her in a crimson ring, it knocked down both her mother and her grandmother to the floor. 
    Miscellaneous objects soared about the room, knocking against the rafters and sending tables to shatter against the concrete walls.  The knife used in the ceremony even cascaded in the windy gale through the basement, only to disintegrate into pieces much like many other objects caught in the storm.
    It wasn’t long before everything abruptly went stark black.