The Black Grimoire

Rebecca kicked at the grass with her bare feet, the breeze blowing her untamed red-curls into her eyes - which were currently glaring at her mother. "Why can't I see it?"

Lily leaned over to pluck a dead leaf off her chamomile plant; her own thick, red mane not daring to move from its secure bun at the nape of her neck. "I've told you, not until you're older."

"But, I'm a witch. Why can't I see the Black Grimoire?" She crossed her thin arms over her puffed out chest. "Grandmother told me she showed it to you when you were my age."

Lily straightened to her full height, towering over her disgruntled twelve-year old daughter. "Firstly, I don't like you making proclamations about being a witch. You come from generations of wise women and healers. You know I prefer those terms over that Anglo Saxon label. Secondly, I was thirteen, not twelve, when your grandmother showed me the Black Book."

Rolling her eyes and letting her head dramatically fall back, Rebecca moaned, "I'll be thirteen in, like, seven-months."

Hiding a small smile from her head-strong daughter, Lily turned her attention to a mugwort plant that was drooping too much for her liking. "What's the big hurry? You usually put off your teachings. Why are you so insistent on seeing the family grimoire now?"

Rebecca bounced on her toes, her cotton dress bouncing along with her. "Grandmother told me you could conjure abundance with the book." She raised her strawberry-colored eyebrows. "And you know what that means? Money!"

With a deep breath, Lily closed her eyes and silently wished her capricious mother would stop sharing quite so much. It was hard enough to keep Rebecca focused on her studies. Giving up attending to her plants, she turned her attention to her daughter and sat down on a whicker bench. "Come here and sit down."

"Oh, no." Rebecca trudged to her mother's side and sat down heavily on the seat next to her. "Here comes the lecture."

"No, here comes some wisdom." Brushing brown leaves off her skirt, Lily said, "Abundance does not always mean money. It means having enough, and maybe a little more than enough, that can be shared and enjoyed. Enough food. Enough security. Enough love. To have plenty and be grateful for it."

Rebecca sighed. "Yeah, yeah. I get it."

"Do you? Because the grimoire is a very powerful tool. You need to be ready to wield it without doing harm. Not to yourself, and not to others."

Rebecca pulled her mop of hair away from her face and looked up imploringly at Lily. "I would never hurt anyone, or myself. I know we need money to pay the taxes on the house. I've heard you talking to dad about it. Why is it so wrong to want to help?"

"It's not wrong, and it's sweet you want to help. Although, I don't want you worrying. Dad and I will figure it out." She took her daughter's hand in hers. "But what you're seeking, abundance as you call it, needs to be done with the knowledge that you often have to give up one thing to gain another. There is balance in everything. Your desires must be weighed carefully."

Before she could give her mother a rebuttal, Rebecca spotted her grandmother coming through the conservatory door and jumped off the seat to run to her. "Grandma!"

Her silver and red hair piled into an untidy bundle at the top of her head, the straight-backed woman in black-lace leaned lightly on her cane as she held open an arm to encircle her granddaughter. "There you are, my sprite. I'd wondered where you'd gotten to."

"I was asking mother to let me see the grimoire." Rebecca scrunched up her nose as she looked up into the sharp-edged features of her grandmother. "She said no. I told you she would."

Matilda turned large green-eyes to her daughter. "Lily, don't you think it's time? She's eager."

"Eager does not mean ready, mother." Lily stood up and put her hands on her hips. "The spells are too strong."

"I don't mean she is going to cast spells from it yet, but just to look at it." Matilda ran her hand down Rebecca's curls, her jade ring catching the sunlight. "Don't you think she's earned that? Just a look at the book that has been passed down through countless generations of our family."

Lily looked from her mother's imploring eyes, to the startlingly similar ones of her daughter. She felt her resolve slipping. Studying Rebecca's face, she finally said, "OK. You can look at it. But we won't be casting any spells from it today, do you understand?"

Unwinding from her grandmother's embrace, Rebecca twirled around and ran up to her mother, hugging her around the waist. "Thank you!"

Lily touched the ancient silver key through the fabric of her dress that hung on a chain around her neck. Matilda had given the key to her the day Rebecca was born, and she hadn't taken it off since. "You have to listen to us when we open the book." She put a finger under Rebecca's chin and tilted her face up. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, mother. I promise." She turned to look at her grandmother, who gave her a wink. Matilda had known Lily would relent. She hated to manipulate her daughter with her own granddaughter, but since she no longer wore the key, she had to do whatever she could to maintain some power.

They walked single-file up three flights of stairs, and then through the creaky, wooden attic door. The leather-bound black book sat on its own pedestal near a small circular window at the far end of the attic. The leather was etched with the image of a raven, their family's familiar, and several healing flowers along the edges. The book was bound with two ornately carved, silver hinges; a thick leather strap with a silver lock secured it.

Matilda reached out and ran her hand over the cover, letting her fingers linger over the embossed image of the raven. She looked down at Rebecca and nodded. "Go ahead. You can touch it."

Rebecca placed her hand on the book and closed her eyes. They sprung open and she looked from her mother to her grandmother. "It feels like it's alive."

"It is, in a way." Lily rested her hand next to her daughter's. Letting the energy from the book enter her, breathing and accepting the strength and wisdom of all her ancestors who had added their own spells to the book. "It is a book that's never finished. Each generation adds their own spells."

"Have you added any?" Rebecca asked.

Lily nodded. "Just one. Your grandmother has added three."

"So far." Matilda arched an eyebrow. "I'm not dead yet." She took matches out of her pocket and lit the blessed candles on each side of the book. "There, now we can see better."

Lily pulled the key up on its chain from inside her dress, and then leaned over to insert it in the lock, giving it a turn. She released the black strap, opening the book to expose pages with spidery black-inked writing.

Matilda gently turned the pages towards the front of the book, the pages getting darker with age as the entries grew older. "Ah, this is a good one to show you, Rebecca."

The girl moved closer to the book, her chin hovering above the page. "But I can't read this. What language is this?"

"Daelic." Matilda leaned over Rebecca and took her hand. "This is the language of your ancestors. Learning to read and speak it will be part of your next lessons. Here, let's practice now."

A ripple of apprehension ran up Lily's spine as she watched her mother hover her finger over the book.

"Why don't you take your mother's hand, my darling." Matilda cleared her throat and began, "Thanks to the goddess for all she provides. Our home is warm, our home is dry."

"Mother." Lily watched as the page began to grow lighter in color.

"The loving force that surrounds us, we ask for your protection."

"Mother!" Lily's eyes widened as she watched the page begin to glow.

"For this we promise to return our own gifts back to the earth and all its children."

"Oh, mother." Resigned to the fact that Matilda was going to caste the spell no matter how she protested, Lily closed her eyes and took deep breaths, feeling the energy flow from the ancient book through her. This was the first time Rebecca would feel this level of power, and she wanted to keep the energy positive and focused so as not to scare her daughter. She added her own voice to her mother's. "Keep our home whole and a place of shelter where we may practice our craft and add light to the world, as you would wish it."

A bright light radiated from the page. "Blessed be." Matilda let go of Rebecca's hand.

"Blessed be." Lily also let go of her daughter's hand and blew out the candles. As the smoke from the candles faded, so did the light that emanated from the book.

Rebecca stood in silence, blinking, and then looked up at her mother - who was glaring at Matilda. "Um, Mom, did we just cast a spell?"

"Yes." Lily turned to her daughter, softening her voice. "Are you ok?"

Matilda closed the book. "Of course, she's fine, Lily. Don't coddle the girl."

"I'm not coddling, mother." Lily locked the book and dropped the key back down into her top.

Rebecca asked, "So, what happens now? I mean, has something happened?"

Matilda led to her back down the stairs. "We won't know right away, poppet. We'll just have to wait and see."

A few days later, the three sat together at the breakfast table having tea and toast, Lily sorting through the mail. With apprehension she opened a letter from the county tax collector, hoping they had granted her the extra-time she'd requested to pay off the $20,000 owed in back property taxes. As she read the letter, her face became flush.

"Mom? Are you alright?" Rebecca studied her mother's face. "What is it?"

Lily began to read the letter aloud, "This is to inform you that upon review, it was found that your home was registered in 1985 as a historic and significant home in our county. Under that program, your tax assessment should have been frozen as of that date. It was an oversight that you were billed at the current rates since that time. We apologize for the inconvenience and will apply a proactive credit to your account. You will not be sent another tax invoice until such time as this credit has been fully utilized, which we estimate to be in ten or more years."

"See!" Matilda clapped and reached out for her tea cup. "I knew all would be well. This is exactly why you have a family grimoire, Lily. I don't know why you are so loath to use it."

"Maybe." Lily had to admit she was relieved, but then she noticed Matilda's hand. "Mother, where is your jade ring?"

"It's on my finger, of course..." But Matilda's finger was bare. She frantically stuck her hands in her pockets and looked on the floor under the table. "Where is it? How could I have lost it? That ring is irreplaceable, it was Celtic, made for the first healer in our family." She looked miserably at Rebecca. "I was going to give it to you on your eighteenth birthday."

Folding the letter and sliding it back into the envelop, Lily said quietly, "And balance has been struck."