The Gift of Magic

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Morgan stepped into the candle room and took a deep breath, but all she could smell was the clean sweet smell of beeswax. It was a pleasant scent but not what she’d expected when she'd seen the rainbow of colors lining the shelves, from the purest white to the darkest black, the candles on the shelves came in as many shapes and sizes as colors. After an exhausting morning of being lectured by both her grandmother and Peter on the difference between Wicca and Witchcraft, she was ready for some action.

As she watched, Peter pulled two tapered candles down off the shelf, one black and one grey. “Candle magic is one of the oldest forms of spell casting we know of, it's a way to boost your spell, to draw the magic around us in and focus it on your goal. Everything you see in this room, the herbs, the oils, and the candles can be combined in any number of ways to help you strengthen any spell. That's why candles are so often part of spells.” He said, lining up what he'd gathered on the table in the middle of the room.

Morgan looked around the room, three walls were filled with candles, but the fourth was filled cabinets comprised of small compartments. It reminded her of an apothecary desk she'd once seen on a museum tour, something that came from an older time. In, fact when she looked around she realized that everything in the room had that wonderful patina that spoke of age. Taking another deep breath, she detected the underlying scent of not only fragrant oils and herbs but old wood.

Next to old books, old buildings were her passion, and this building was hundreds of years old, of that she was sure. “I like this room, it feels healthy.” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

Peter gave her a strange look, “That's a strange thing to say, explain.” He ordered in his teacher voice.

Morgan had to stop and think about what she meant, “When I walk into a building, a house, apartment, I feel things sometimes. Vibes I guess, some times its good and sometimes it bad.” She said, feeling her way through the explanation. “Does that make any sense?”

Peter nodded his head, “Yes, it does, you're picking up the energy left behind by the people who came before you.”

Morgan thought about that for a second, “I never realized that's what I was doing.”

“It's a pretty common ability in our family. But for now, let's concentrate on the candle magic. The first thing you need to do is plan your spell, and don't forget that your spell starts the minute you start planning it. I've already chosen our candles, oil, and some herbs that fit the spell. Now we have to charge them with our energy, start with the candle, hold it in your hands and visualize the end result of the spell.”

Morgan picked up the grey candle, “I'm not exactly sure what you mean by visualize.”

“Well, this is a protection spell, so you might imagine a wall around yourself, or even a ring of light, something that keeps the bad out. If you were doing one for the whole island that's what you would visualize.” Peter explained.

“Okay, I got it.” Morgan said, closing her eyes and doing as Peter had suggested. Then opened her eyes in shock, “My hands are tingling.”

“That means it's working. Now we do the same thing with the oil.” Peter said, handing her a small dish of oil. “Then pour a small amount on your hands and rub it all over the candle.”

They did the same thing with the herbs, finally placing their candles into the holders. “Now I want you to close your eyes again and think about your goal, imagine it, visualize it until it becomes real in your mind. When you feel ready, light the candle, to release its energy and keep your goal in mind.” Peter said, turning to get the matches off the counter.

When he turned back to hand Morgan the matches, her candle was already lit. He stared at her in shock, then laughed and shook his head. “Your supposed to use these.” He said, holding out the matches.”

Morgan opened her eyes and looked at Peter, then down at the matches in his hand, wondering what was so funny. “What's so funny?” She asked, confused.

“Look at your candle.”

She glanced over at her candle, which was lit. “Wasn't I supposed to light the candle?” She asked, still confused.

“Yes, but most people use a match.” Peter said, throwing the box of matches on the table.

Morgan looked at the candle again, “Oh, did I?”

“Yep, you did.” Peter said, then gestured to the other candle, “Let's see if you can do it on purpose.”

Morgan concentrated on the other candle, imagining it lit like the other one and much to her surprise the candle flared to life and burned brightly. “Okay then, the spell is done, now we let the candle burn itself out.” Peter said, shaking his head again.

After they'd cleaned up the table, Peter went over and took an old leather-bound book off the shelf and handed it to Morgan. The minute the book was in her hands, she knew that it was just as magical as the grimoire, it felt warm in her hands as if it was alive. She set it down on the table and carefully opened the cover, not sure what to expect.

“What is this?” She asked, when nothing else happened.

“That book has been in our family for generations, inside you'll find pictures and descriptions of all the herbs and oils used in spell casting.” Peter said, gesturing for her to open the book.

Morgan turned a few pages, sighing with appreciation at the old-world handwriting and beautiful illustrations. “This is wonderful.” She finally said.

“I'm glad you think so, because you'll be spending the rest of the day with that book.” Peter said, then grinned at her. “Apparently, you're well beyond candle magic, Morgan.”

“What do you mean?” Morgan asked.

“Well, a lot of people need the extra magic they can gather from the universe with the candle, but you have enough magic inside you all on your own. What you don't have is an education.” Peter said, pointing to the book. “I'll see you at dinner. Happy reading.”

Devon climbed the stairs and knocked on the front door, it had taken him nearly a week to get this invitation and for the first time in a long time he was nervous. It wasn't just that he was about to sit down to dinner with Morgan Corey, it was simply that he'd begun to really like the island and the people he'd gotten to know over the last week.

When it had become clear to him that he was going to have to find something to occupy his time while he was here, he volunteered his time to Isobel who jumped on the offer. She'd sent him off to help build a barn and from there he'd been moving from farm to farm helping out. Thanks to his travels looking for Morgan, he had a little experience doing just about everything, and there was no shortage of work to be done on the island.

The truth was that he liked working with his hands, creating things the hard way, instead of simply casting a spell. As the week progressed it became clear to him that the people of the island respected that much more than they did his magical talents, that to them hard work was more important than the magic he could do. Even after all these years of traveling around the country he never quite got accustomed to the feeling he got when another witch silently assessed his power, but after a week of having it happen, he'd learned to ignore it. It wasn't hard to understand why people did it, if he'd been in their shoes he would have done the same, but today for the first time, he'd met someone new who hadn't silently assessed him.

He'd be a fool to think that his every move wasn't watched, that his presence on the island hadn't been discussed over and over since he'd arrived. But he was sure that he'd passed the test, Isobel would have never invited him to her home if he hadn't, and for a moment he felt guilty knowing that he'd been withholding information from her. It had been a calculated risk not telling her about Morgan being in his dreams, but at the time it had seemed the wisest course of action.

He hadn't seen Morgan since he'd walked her home that night from the beach, but she'd never been far from his thoughts, almost as if her lovely face had been burned into his memory. Every time he thought about her, he couldn't help but smile, just thinking about her seemed to make him happy. It was silly and at times he wondered if what he was feeling was simply a reaction to finally finding her after all these years, but then he'd remember what happened when he looked into her eyes and knew that they were meant to be together.

No matter what else happened tonight, he was going to tell Isobel, Peter, and Morgan the entire truth about his dream, maybe not the part about her being his soul mate, but all the rest. He should have done so a long time ago, but he just hadn't been sure how they would take what he had to say, but now that he'd proven himself just a little bit, hopefully they'd understand why he'd been so cautious. Hearing footsteps coming to the door, he took a deep breath and calmed his aura, the next few hours would decide if he was here to fulfill his destiny.

Morgan heard the knock on the door and her heart began to pound in her chest. When her grandmother had told her earlier that day that Devon was going to be joining them for dinner, she'd had the same reaction. Then she'd spent the day trying to concentrate on something besides his blue eyes and muscular chest. It was so unlike her to feel this way, men had always been nothing more to her than simply a nice distraction or a date for a function she had to attend. Her life had been all about her books, her parents, and she suddenly realized not much else.

Now she had a huge family, had discovered she was a powerful witch, and a huge crush on a total stranger. Of the three, the last was the most disturbing, even more disturbing was the look on her grandmother's face when she'd come downstairs for dinner dressed up in slacks and a blouse. Morgan had blushed and quickly left the room, making an excuse that she'd left something upstairs, when she came back Peter was there and nothing was said, but she knew that her grandmother knew why she'd dressed up.

“Morgan why don't you answer the door.” Her grandmother suggested, a small smile on her face.

“Oh, I… Okay” She said, even more nervous than before.

When she opened the door, and saw him standing on the porch, she almost slammed the door shut again in a panic. The feelings she'd had on the beach that day came rushing back so intense that she stopped breathing for a second. Peter had taught her how to ride her feelings, how to process them, but there were so many rushing through her when she looked a Devon that she lost control.

“Hi.” She squeaked, then held the door open wider. Then swallowing a couple of times, she managed to add, “Please come in.”

Devon took two steps inside, then stopped as overwhelmed by his feelings as Morgan, whose face was lit up with a huge smile. “Thank you, I'm glad to be here.” He said, never taking his eyes off her.

They stared to each other in silence for several minutes, before her grandmother’s voice came floating out from the kitchen. “Dinner is ready. Are you two going to stand there all night or come to dinner?”