Again I had just the slightest twinge of something on the edge of my consciousness about what she had said, but I would look at it later. Anyway, I could see her point of view so far. Many witches would agree with her. It wasn’t my job to agree or disagree with her.
We talked for another hour. Sometimes Justine pressed her beliefs, sometimes we just chatted, learning about each other, sizing each other up. At the end of my visit I knew that Justine was very bright, extremely well educated (which she would be: I had recognized her mother’s name as one of the foremost modern scholars of the craft), funny, self-deprecating, and strong. She was wary; she didn’t trust me any more than I trusted her. But she wanted to trust me; she wanted me to understand. I felt all that.
Finally, almost reluctantly, I needed to go. It had been a nice afternoon and such a great change from the hellish disappointment the last week had been. It was nice to talk to an ordinary witch instead of someone hell-bent on his own destruction, someone mired in grief and pain.
“I’d like to meet with you again before I make my report to the council,” I said. I carefully dislodged the cats in my lap and stood, brushing fur off my jeans. Justine watched me with amusement, making no apologies.
“You’re welcome here anytime,” she said. “There aren’t any other witches around here for me to talk to. It’s nice to have company I can really be myself with.” She had a nice smile, with full lips and straight white teeth. I put on my coat.
“Right, then, I’ll be in touch,” I said, opening the front door. As I started down the stone path, I became suddenly aware of Justine’s strong interest in me. I was surprised; she hadn’t given a sign of it inside. But now I felt it: her physical attraction to me, the fact that she liked me and felt comfortable with me. I didn’t acknowledge it but got into my car, started the engine, and waved a casual good-bye.
11. The Rowanwand
The Seeker arrived yesterday. I don't know how to describe my reaction-he's an invader, and I should resent him being here, yet he is so… interesting. He is an Englishman, young, scarcely even twenty. Yet he carries himself with a confidence, a maturity that makes me think he has great potential. I do sense turmoil in him-whether it is a result of this assignment or a personal problem, I can't say. Still, he is so attractive to me, so stimulating to talk to, I find myself wondering if I could win his heart.
Of course, I haven't been able to do any research since I sensed him coming. I've stripped the library of any traces of magick and have performed endless purification rituals to keep him from sensing the taint of the other side. I miss my work and my friends in the shadow world more than I can express, but I can be patient. The Courceaus know much about patience, hiding our time, waiting until the right moment to make our intentions known.
Goddess, help me to keep my focus and remember that it is my work that is most important-more important than any temporary attraction I might have. If only there were some way to make him understand. If only I could get his true name…
— J.C.
This morning I spent time in Foxton proper, hanging out at the local bookstore, the coffee shop, the library. It’s a bigger town than Saint Jérôme du Lac and has more resources. Basically I was casting my senses, trying to listen for gossip about Justine. Unlike my father, no one here seems to have identified her as a witch, though quite a few people knew who she was. I mentioned her name in a few places, and people had only good things to say about her. The previous autumn she’d led a fund drive for the library, and it had been their most successful ever. One woman told me how Justine had helped when her dog was ill—she’d been a godsend. The general impression was that she was something of a loner but friendly and helpful when needed. They thought of her as a good neighbor.
The way Kennet had talked about her, I had been prepared for another Selene Belltower—an amoral, ruthless user who felt she was above the council laws. Justine didn’t seem that way at all. Though, of course, appearances can be deceiving.
Back at the bed-and-breakfast, Da was doing a lot of lying around, staring at the walls. I had brought several books to read, and I offered them to him. If he knew about the watch sigil or the spelled door, he didn’t mention them. Mostly he seemed incredibly depressed, hopeless, uninterested in anything. I wanted to jolt him out of his stupor but wasn’t sure how. I wished there was a healer around.
That afternoon Daniel lay down with a book, and I headed back to Justine’s. She greeted me cheerfully, and soon I was again sitting in her comfortable lounge, with cats appearing out of nowhere to take naps on me.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” she began. “About the council laws and why we have them. And I’m just not convinced. I mean, I obey all Canadian laws, and I recognize their right to have and enforce them. After all, I’m choosing to live here. If I don’t like their laws, I can decide to move somewhere else. But I have no choice about being a witch. I am one, by blood. It would be impossible for me not to be one. So why should I accept the council’s laws as valid over me? They set themselves up almost two hundred years ago. Nowadays they’re elected, but the entire council, in and of itself, wasn’t created by the Wiccan community or even by the Seven Clans. To me they seem arbitrary. Why should I subject myself to their laws?”
I leaned forward. “It’s true that the council created itself long ago. But the original members were witches, just as all members are today. The council wasn’t created by humans, who have nothing to do with witch affairs. The creation of the council signifies the intent of the witch community at large to be self-governing. And yes, we’re all subject to whatever human laws govern the places in which we live, but those laws don’t address the sum of our existence. Everyone who practices the craft, everyone who works with magick is a part of a different world. That world intersects with the human world but doesn’t overlap.” I adjusted one of the cats on my lap, whose claws were digging into my thigh. “We’re not talking about golf here, Justine. We’re talking about magick. You know as well as I do that magick can be incredibly powerful, life-altering, dangerous, misused, destructive. You don’t think it’s a good idea to have some sort of mutually agreed-upon guidelines for it? Do you really think it would be preferable to have no laws in place? So that every witch could make any kind of magick she or he wants, with no fear of reprisal?”
Her brows came down in a thoughtful V, and she pulled a corner of one lip into her mouth: she was thinking. “It’s just that the laws seem arbitrary,” she argued, crossing her legs under her. Today she wore faded jeans and a fuzzy pink sweater that showed the neck of a white T-shirt underneath. She looked very fresh and pretty. “I mean, look at the rules about uninitiated witches making certain kinds of magick. Why does someone need some stranger’s stamp of approval just to do what comes naturally? I hate that.”
“But what comes naturally, Justine?” I asked. I was enjoying this back-and-forth discussion. I hardly ever got to have this kind of interesting, stimulating conversation. Among the witches I knew, we all just accepted the council’s laws. And other people, like Morgan, don’t really know enough about Wiccan history or the witch community to be able to fully form an opinion. “What kind of magick did you make as a child? That was natural, wasn’t it? But was it always good?” I thought about my own spell on poor Mrs. Wilkie. “I don’t believe either people or witches are always born naturally good,” I went on. “I think that as people get older and more educated, they learn to channel their goodness, to identify it, and to express it. But I think witches, and people, too, are born with a capacity for light or dark. It’s up to their parents, their community, their teachers to educate them to see the consistent benefit of good and the consistent detriment of darkness. The council and its laws only serve to reinforce that, to provide guidelines, to help people learn where the boundaries are.”