“Do you think you’ll ever come back to Salem?” Miranda asked as they drove toward Seattle.
“Perhaps. I’ll certainly let you know if I do. I’d enjoy teaching you a lot more about sex magick.”
Card 2: The High Priestess
Late one afternoon, a week after Miranda had departed, Eli came upon Sybil seated beside her scrying pond. He paused in the shadows of an oak grove, silent as a deer, not wanting to interrupt her. But she sensed his presence—he could never hide anything from Sybil—and turned toward him.
“Come here.” She patted the grass beside her. “Let me show you something.”
Eli knelt next to the silver-haired woman and stared at the emerald-green pond.
Dragonflies hovered like tiny helicopters above its surface. The sun’s rays spilled across the water like warm honey. The pond, he knew, served as Sybil’s magic mirror, reflecting images of the past, present, and future.
She leaned over the pond again and motioned for him to do the same. “Tell me what you see.”
“I don’t know, Sybil…” He squinted at the water. “I can’t see pictures in it like you do.”
“The pictures aren’t in it. They’re in you. The sparkling surface triggers your intuition. Be quiet and allow impressions from your subconscious to rise into your awareness.”
He tried again, without success.
“Don’t try so hard. It might help to let your eyes unfocus a bit.”
Eli cast his gaze across the pond and allowed his vision to blur. Patches of light and shadow slid across the water. As he watched, they converged to form what looked like mountains. Peering closer, he noticed two tiny shapes, moving. The scene grew clearer, enabling him to distinguish two people climbing the mountain: a man, followed by a dark-haired woman. Inexplicably he felt a spark of desire. Miranda? he wondered.
But before he could be certain, a breeze rippled the pond and the vision disappeared. It’s just my imagination.
“I got this weird impression that Miranda is mountain-climbing,” he said, still not believing what he’d seen.
“First impressions are usually right. That’s the creative side of your brain talking to you, rather than the analytical part.” Sybil patted his hand. “Don’t worry, Miranda’s well and having fun. You’ll be together again soon.”
He smiled at his lifelong friend, thinking that she epitomized feminine beauty.
“Before Miranda left, I asked her what she thought about you. She said you’re a MILF.”
“A what?”
“A MILF. It’s an acronym for ‘mother I’d like to fuck’.”
Sybil laughed. “And what did you say?”
“I told her you’re very spiritual.”
“Can’t one be both?”
Now Eli laughed. “I think she’s a little jealous of our relationship.”
“That’s only natural. We share a past that doesn’t include her.”
Eli turned and gazed into the pond again, hoping to recapture the scenario he’d witnessed before. This time, however, he saw the murky figures of two men in a white car. A pang of fear jabbed him. He tried to make out the landscape around them, but it was too blurry to recognize.
“They’re looking for me,” he said. He didn’t know how he knew, but he was sure the men in his vision were the ones who’d destroyed Meditrina’s grapevines.
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Sybil answered, “but you’re safe here. For a while, at least.”
“I can’t put you at risk by letting you hide me. I’d better leave.”
He started to stand, but Sybil grabbed his arm and pulled him down beside her again. “Hold on. We’re not in any immediate danger.”
Eli sighed; his shoulders sagged under the weight of the fear and stress he’d managed to keep at bay for the past week and a half. Here at Sybil’s peaceful, secluded retreat, he could almost forget he was a hunted man. Now the reality of his situation slapped him like an icy wind off the north Pacific.
She placed her cool palm on his cheek and gently turned his face until his green eyes met her violet ones. “You must learn to trust your intuition. It will guide you through the challenges ahead. I want you to start paying attention to hunches, serendipitous happenings, things you know but can’t explain.”
Like the vision of the men in the white car. Suddenly he was very tired. He lay down on the soft grass and put his head in Sybil’s lap. Being with her always made him feel safe, perhaps because she’d helped bring him into the world.
Sybil stroked his hair tenderly, as if he were still a child. Her long fingers brushed his cheek, his forehead, then across his lips and chin, down his neck. Eli surrendered to her touch. The sensation was both soothing and erotic. Heat flickered in his groin. Does she know I’m getting aroused? he wondered. Probably.
He nuzzled deeper into Sybil’s lap and inhaled her scent. Miranda had perceived the situation accurately. Sybil was a MILF. And for as long as he could remember, he’d desired her. She probably knows that, too.
Sybil bent and kissed his cheek. “Dear Eli, why don’t you rest for a while? I’m going to start dinner.”
Rising as gracefully as smoke, she walked back through the woods to the house, leaving him to sleep beside the pond.
He hadn’t heard Sybil return, but when he reached out he found her lying beside him on the damp grass. His hand touched her bare thigh, cool and silky, and slid up to her hip. She sighed and rolled onto her back. In the moonlight, her luminous body seemed flawless — slimmer and firmer than the bodies of most women half her age. Eli stroked her stomach, his fingertips grazing the triangle of silver hair at its base. Again she sighed and opened her legs, inviting him to explore deeper.
As he leaned down to kiss what she offered him, he noticed he was naked. Did she undress me? he wondered.
“Eli,” she moaned softly, raising her hips to meet his mouth. “Eli.”
He could feel his blood pulsing in his cock, as if his heart were beating there.
“Eli.” Her voice was louder now, more insistent. “Eli, dinner’s ready.”
Confused, he opened his eyes. The sun hung low in the sky, slipping rapidly toward the horizon. Sybil stood over him, wearing a long blue dress. He glanced down at his body and saw that he, too, was fully clothed. His erection strained against his jeans.
“Sorry to wake you, but it’s time for dinner,” she said.
He sat up quickly, trying to hide his hard-on. A squirrel scurried along a branch overhead, chattering raucously. Eli felt certain it was laughing at him. As the last vestiges of his dream receded into the gathering dusk, he pushed himself up and followed Sybil to the house.
Erotic thoughts still lingered in Eli’s mind as he took his chair at the table on the screened-in porch. A bottle of Meditrina’s Merlot sat open, breathing; a vase of fresh flowers from Sybil’s garden perfumed the air. Candles waited to be lit. This looks like a setting for lovers. Is she teasing me?
Sybil placed a quiche, made with eggs laid by her Rhode Island Reds, on the table beside a large wooden bowl of salad greens, fresh strawberries, and goat cheese. The aroma of hot garlic bread made his mouth water.
“Thank you, Sybil,” he said as she lit the candles. “For everything.”
“I enjoy your company,” she answered simply. “I cherish my solitude, but sometimes it can get lonely here. Besides, you’ve been a great help with the garden and you’ve fixed so much around the property. The place hasn’t looked this good in years.”