WHiTE
Jon Coley
©️ 2024
This book is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious, and any resemblance to other characters alive or otherwise is coincidental. Seriously, I don’t even know any banshees or Druids.
For Leslie
Cousins are our first best friends.
Dream Journal - Lesson One
The problem with magic is that it is much like water. It can revitalize you and wash you clean or it can drown you. It is a byproduct of life itself, thus often overlooked until you realize you need it. Compounding the problem even further, it is a finite resource. Yes, it is plentiful in some areas, but so scarce in others. Life conglomerates around it, as it must. There is just as much magic today as there was all those millennia ago when life burst forth. However, it is now divided among so many more peoples and tribes, and person magic is the hardest to understand of all, wild and unpredictable.
But just as there are those who know about nature because of their fervent studies, there are those few who know more than most of magic and all its wonders. They study our kind most obsessively, for we are their greatest creation and have become, over time, their greatest enemy. There are some pockets of humanity just as blessed with magic now as we ever were in the ancient past. That is why the Druids know that we can never be free.
It was the Druids who agreed to help the royal families create a bulwark against untimely death, a magical warning system with powerful agents. In those ancient times, wars between clans were ever ongoing, a ubiquitously present danger. The Fae still roamed the wilderness lands in those days too. And so it was to them that the Druids appealed. There were deals, barters, and politics aplenty. After so many negotiations and great sacrifices, a binding bargain was struck and our order was established.
Our tales speak of five women, one for each of the royal families. Again, deals were made for their sacrifice. But they agreed to a lifetime of servitude under their patrons. What was given to the Fae is lost to obscurity, but they did agree to give their blood. Each of the five women were bonded to a Fae familiar, most of which were cats. They were then lain down upon the stone pillar amid the great stone rings and hedges, and Fae blood was spilled into their eyes. Their eyes became red as fire and their hair white as snow. Amid great screaming, the first Banshees were born.
Chapter 1
Sunsets are magical in New Mexico, but Dave Preferred the sunrise. Like he spent most mornings, he breathed in the crisp desert air and prepared for his day. After his morning coffee, he made his way over the outer edges of the RV park, his pan filled with feed. He shook out a little pile here and another there, then he pounded on the pan to let his friends know that breakfast was ready. Right afterward, dozens of hungry quails appeared from the brush, rushing over for their daily meal. The doves cooed in jealousy overhead as a new day dawned in Truth or Consequences.
Croia wasn’t ready to make friends, but the cat was insistent. “Kree-Yah Kree-Yah,” she seemed to say instead of regular mewing. And it was definitely a she. That much was obvious, considering her fur consisted of random splotches and patches of three distinctly different colors. She was a calico. Croia sighed with acceptance and went to get a saucer of milk. It wasn’t the best offering, but it was all she had at the moment.
“Well, Kitty, it appears you already know my name. But what should I call you?”
The scrawny calico cat lapped up the milk greedily, not bothering to answer, quite a cattish behavior.
“I know you’re attracted to my kind, but you should understand, we don’t take familiars. We travel way too much for such as that, or so I’m told. I don’t know how long we’ll be in the land of enchantment.”
“Kree-Yah,” the feline called out again and began to rub itself across her legs. That seemed to settle the matter.
“Okay, okay. I’ll get Maeve to buy some cat food this afternoon. It’ll be good to explore this little town, I guess.”
Appropriately enough, Maeve came to the doorstep at that particular moment and observed the situation. Croia looked up to see her mother’s long red hair glistening in the sunlight.
“You see, Dearie,” she said in her vague, Scotch Irish accent, “You’re already making friends anew.”
Croia looked up at her mother. She still didn’t want to speak to her, although she knew it was an irrational sentiment. In her heart, she could not yet forgive her for uprooting their lives, for turning her whole world upside down. But that having been said, she didn’t really know what else she could have done differently.The young girl’s mind had not wrapped around the new paradigm that was now her life. Upon her father’s death, and her own coming of age, everything had forever changed profoundly. She swallowed down all those churning emotions and relented.
“She seems intent on staying, though I told her to be wary of our kind.”
Maeve nodded sagely, “Yes, tis true enough, but cat folk have their own agendas. You’d like me to pick up some cat food?”
“I told her we would.”
“Very well, then. You’d like to go with me?”
“Sure, Maeve. Let’s see what Truth or Consequences has to offer.”
*
Aodh sat back in the recliner, attempting to make himself more comfortable. He knew he wouldn’t feel pain, but his nerves still got the better of him. This kind of magic hadn’t been practiced for well over a century, and success was far from guaranteed. Still, he knew that fear would not be his friend during this attempt. After all, fear was an emotion instilled in mankind to keep people safe and alive. It could cloud judgment even worse than anger. To get the job done, he needed his mind to be perfectly clear and pristinely focused.
All his brethren had left the room, most taking care of their daily duties. Life must go on. Sure, he knew that he was being monitored, but the low hum of machines was not the same as footsteps, rustling clothing, and the light buffeting of air against one’s skin generated by another’s passing proximity. He became aware that his senses were on high alert.
Finally, he focused. His mind was sharper than it had ever been. His consciousness inverted until, there it was, that little spark of magic all people had. His was stronger than most, assumed due to his mysterious lineage, though strengthened by being raised in the brotherhood. None of his brothers could do this for him, though. This kind of magic was too personal, too primal. He focused on the spark, visualizing it in his mind’s eye. Then he encased it. He could feel different micro-tissues in his body surrounding the luminous pulse. Gently he moved the delicate life force into position, allowing the metaphysical and physical states of existence to almost touch. He took another deep, cleansing breath. The time had come at long last. The magic was momentarily physical, for lack of a better term. It was living light that could be manipulated and moved at will, and his will would be done.
Summoning his courage, Aodh pushed the magic away from himself mentally and physically, exhaling sharply in the process.
Success! Aodh died.
