Vampire in the Scrying Glass by R. E. Mullins

Author:R. E. Mullins [Mullins, R E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Paranormal, Fantasy
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2014-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“Okay.” Rafe had been continually scanning the area, “Don’t start anything until I get back. I want to make sure there aren’t any close neighbors.”

He strode off, but before he was even out of sight, Morgan began gathering kindling for the small Samhain bonfire necessary to honor the Goddess Morrigan.

With wood laid, she set her candles in place, and the wrapped scrying mirror next to her feet. She cast a circle of salt around her. Then throwing her arms aloft and spreading her legs in the star stance, she opened herself up while murmuring the ancient words of power.

Words that hadn’t crossed her lips since her sixth birthday.

She took the hazelnut she’d found in her grandmother’s box of effects, and enclosed the seed, dried and blacked with age, in her fist. When she released the nut, it was once more green and fresh. Flinging it into the little pool, the water slowly began to froth like a pot on the edge of boiling.

Breathfire was applied to candlewicks, and then with a flash of her old sass, she sent fire racing out of her fingertips to ignite the bonfire wood with a loud pop.

“Honor to the Goddess,” she intoned as flame and smoke issued forth. It was elating to see everything coming together. The wind stirred, picking up to tease the ends of her hair. Similar to a stop motion film, green sprouts pushed their way up from the dormant soil, formed plants, and flowers began to bud.

It was time. And she was ready. Gesturing to the scrying glass, it levitated up to her waiting arms. As she pulled off the silk wrapper, she reminded herself the key was to look through the mirror and not just onto its surface. What she needed to know lay beyond the tangible world.

She refused to feel any trepidation when the thin wisps of colors slowly started to emerge. The slender strands twisted and twirled into columns, remaining upright despite the quickening breeze. In astonishment she watched them dissipate and reform coalescing into the shape of her grandmother. Her form flickered in and out like a TV picture needing adjustment, but the lilt of her voice was sure.

“Heed the vampire in your scrying glass

If the demon’s will you would surpass

For this is the prophecy Morrigan sends to you

Beware the fang; treachery, danger, and rescue

All creatures from heaven and hell interlace

To end in death’s dark, earthly embrace

But love defeats all if it remains true

The end of a line might begin anew.”

When she ceased speaking, Morgan tried to assimilate her words. “I don’t understand. What does it mean? Help me, Grandmother. I need you.”

“You have me, sweet child. Know I have always loved you, been with you. It devastated me when you locked me out, but your brave actions tonight released the block. You enabled me to get through with the Goddess’ words.”

Tears welled in her grandmother’s faded eyes, seeped down the lined, papery cheeks. “Grave danger awaits, and you will be tested. Long before you were born, I delved deep into the darker side of magic.

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