Thursday, August 16, 2012


She lay beneath me, eyes wide, lips parted, body bathed in milk blue light, and I thought I would never drink my fill of her.  We’d had hours uninterrupted. True to form, we’d spent most of it – but not the better part – discussing legends. She’d harvested some plants and sown others.

“It must be a full moon or this is in vain.” Her long hair did not quite hide her smile. “I once thought it was superstition, but I’ve come to give it credence.”

“So, do they fail to sprout if the timing is wrong?” I’d taken enough biology to know that wasn’t true.

“No, but they aren’t strong. Sometimes, they’re stunted or twisted, or they don’t yield what you expect of them. Mostly, they just die. Considering how much work it takes, I want to be careful about the inception. So much is riding on this.”

“They’re just seeds. You can always get more, try again.”

She shook her head. “No, these are different. Special. I’ll never get their like.”  She dusted off her hands and led me inside.

Looking back, I realize I’d heard what I wanted to, what she’d wanted me to: inception instead of conception. Considering what I am, you’d think I’d have recognized the spell that cloaked her intention. She’d taken what she needed and now, somewhere out there in the world, I had a son – the second male witch ever born.

If my brother found out, he’d kill the child on principle.

Note: This is jumping way, way ahead in Seth's story. 

1 comment:

  1. But well worth reading all the intervening episodes to arrive at this point.