A Dark Root Christmas_Merry's Gift Read online

  The owl looked at the open window, his eyes widening.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t put you out again. You obviously didn’t like it. But I think you need name.” Merry placed a finger to her chin, her eyes focused on the yellowed wallpaper that framed the window. “What do you think of Rose?” she asked, then immediately shook her head. “Pretty, if you were pink and a girl.” She lifted one of the owl’s wings and then the other, in an effort to determine its gender. “We’ll choose something that fits boys and girls, although I’m pretty certain you’re a boy. But just to be safe…” She puckered her lips and exhaled through her nose. “How about Starlight?”

  The tiny white owl cocked his head. After a brief pause, it bounced its way up to her pillow.

  “Hoo,” it said, through his downturned beak.

  Merry saw the energy around him light up in swells of silver and gold. When it receded, she patted his head. “Well Starlight, it seems like you like your name.” She reached out and turned her palms face up. “Now come to me.”

  Starlight climbed on, nestling his head beneath one of his wings, chortling himself to sleep.

  “You can be my familiar if you want to,” she said, stroking the bird’s feathers. “And maybe one day we’ll grow up and get a house of our own. There will be lots of animals there, and we’ll do magick together and…”

  There were so many possibilities. But just like the owl’s, Merry’s lids grew heavy and she fell asleep on her bed.

  She dreamed of Christmas parties and a snowcapped landscape and Starlight, all grown up.

  It was a good dream, and she smiled as she slept, the owl tucked snuggly into the crook of her arm.

  AT ALMOST FOUR that afternoon, Merry heard the front door open, accompanied by the sounds of a grumbling Maggie, a giggling Eve and a prattling Ruth Anne. Merry hid Starlight inside their bedroom closet, nestled among old dresses and worn out shoes.

  “I’ll be back later,” she promised, then closed the door and ran downstairs to meet her sisters.

  “You left me,” Maggie accused, tossing Merry’s backpack onto the old couch and kicking her shoes towards the entryway closet where Miss Sasha kept her fur coats.

  “I got sick,” Merry lied.

  “That’s not what we heard,” Eve said, giving her a questioning eye.

  “If you’re really sick, Mother’s going to make you drink that disgusting tea,” Maggie said, flipping on the TV. Their mother rarely allowed them to watch television, insisting their time was better spent learning to cast spells and read tea leaves, and so the sisters snuck cartoons in whenever Miss Sasha was away.

  Ruth Anne went into the kitchen and returned with a towering platter of cookies, a gift from one of Sasha’s many love-spell customers. She ate three before passing the tray around.

  “I hope it’s not catchy,” she said, wiping crumbs from her mouth with the back of her arm, her brown eyes sparkling beneath her oversized glasses. “I’m going to Uncle Joe’s this weekend. He got a bunch of new books from Portland last week. I need to read them all before you guys get your sticky fingers on them.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about Maggie or Eve getting to books before you do.” Merry smiled as she retrieved a broom and went about sweeping up the stray crumbs on the floor.

  “I don’t care if I ever see another book again,” Maggie said, her eyes never leaving the TV.

  “Merry…” Eve’s voice was low and curious, her head aimed towards the breakfast nook near the kitchen. “What’s that?”

  In all the confusion, Merry had forgotten about the sapling. She had potted it then left it hiding in the corner, meaning to return to it, but Starlight had required all of her attention.

  “It’s a tree,” Merry said simply. She went to the tree, which was partly obscured by a table and a set of mismatched chairs. It was a fir tree of unknown origin, almost green but also silvery in the right light. Her sisters gathered around, asking more questions.

  “I found it in the forest,” Merry explained. “A few nights ago. It was small then, but now it’s almost as tall as Eve.” She sighed and rested her hand on the table, as if she should have expected this. “I think I blew on it too hard,” she continued, pushing out a breath to demonstrate.

  The others nodded.

  Merry had a way with plants. She grew things that seemed impossible to grow, even in seasons when they should be dormant. But she had never grown anything so fast as this.

  Deep down Merry knew there was another answer. It didn’t take a witch to know there was a special magick at work in the tree, just as there was in the owl. There was a subtle radiance to the tree’s boughs, only noticeable out of the corner of one’s eye. And it emitted a cozy energy to the corner of the house, like the feeling Merry got napping by the fireplace. It had a glow, too, almost like a halo.

  Merry tugged at the ends of her long hair and chewed on her bottom lip. Mama would be home soon, and she was going to notice the tree and ask questions. Ever since The Council split up, Miss Sasha was suspicious of all magick that she didn’t have her hand in.

  Ruth Anne circled the fir, pulling her glasses down over her nose to get a better look. She pushed her hands forward, as if warming them over a campfire. “It’s alive. I mean, duh, it’s a potted tree, but this one actually feels alive. Does that make sense?”

  The others bobbed their heads, listening.

  Ruth Anne squinted her eyes in concentration, then tapped the edge of one of the boughs. “I’ve seen a picture of a tree like this, but I can’t say where. I bet we can find something on it at Uncle Joe’s.”

  “Good idea,” Merry said. Uncle Joe had the largest library in Dark Root, and was the source of all information on the magickal and the arcane. If it wasn’t in one of his books, it probably didn’t exist.

  The sisters continued to ogle the fir, blinking from time to time, uncertain as to whether the tree was visibly growing before their eyes or if it was an optical illusion. Ruth Anne got out her measuring tape and placed it alongside the sapling. Sure enough, within the half-hour, it had grown nearly an inch.

  “You’ve got a monster on your hands,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Why didn’t you plant it outside?” Maggie asked. “Nature should stay with nature.”

  Merry wanted to tell her sisters about her star wish, but she feared that if she did it wouldn’t come true. For that is the nature of wishes––like dreams, they vanish as soon as they are spoken.

  “It looked lonely,” was all she could answer.

  “I wish I were lonely sometimes,” Maggie said.

  “Hell, I’d kill just to have my own room,” Ruth Anne agreed. Then looking to her sisters, shrugged. “No offense.”

  “How are we going to hide this from Mom?” Eve finally asked, sitting cross-legged near the pot on the floor. “It’s pretty, but she won’t like it. And she’s not going to be happy when she finds out you’ve been keeping secrets, Merry.”

  “But she sure knows how to keep them herself,” Ruth Anne said, putting the tape measure away.

  Merry smiled thinly, her lips pulled taut. “We’ll have to hide it,” she said firmly, looking up the staircase.

  There were other rooms upstairs––rooms that Mama wouldn’t go in. She checked them off in her head. Closets. Bathrooms. The nursery...

  No, the nursery was not an option. That room gave Merry the heebie-jeebies whenever she walked by. Hmmm. Wait. The sewing room? No one ever went into the sewing room since Aunt Dora went to live at Harvest Home.

  Maggie wandered over to the window, staring out across the yard and into the woods.

  “What the…?” she asked, pressing her face to the glass. “I just saw a white bird flying onto the porch! It sparkled!” She turned towards her sisters, her green eyes flickering with excitement as her fingers tapped the glass. “It looks like one of Eve’s toys, but it’s real!”

  Merry rushed to the front door, throwing it open. She was met by an icy gale of cold
wind. Starlight stood at the top of the porch steps, staring up at her with his golden eyes.

  “What are you doing out here?” she asked, scooping him up and returning to the house. There was a bluish haze around his cheeks, and he shivered, ever so slightly, in her hands.

  “Is he yours?” Maggie asked, joining her.

  “Uh-huh. I found him––at least I think it’s a him––near the sapling, the night the wishing star fell.”

  “A wishing star?” Eve asked, twirling on tiptoes when she heard the words, her long dark hair flaring out around her.

  “Yes, but never mind that,” Merry said, not wanting to go into detail. She tucked the owl into a blanket on the couch and its shivering ceased.

  Still, she was troubled. If Mama didn’t like the tree, she wouldn’t approve of her owl, either. She had banned all pets from the house after Ruth Anne’s dog bit one of her Tarot clients. In fairness to the dog, the woman did have a yucky aura and probably deserved it.

  “You going to tell the woman?” Ruth Anne asked, leaning against the staircase banister as she inspected the owl from afar. “It may not bite, but I bet Miss Sasha will claim it can peck someone to death.”

  “No. I’m not telling her,” Merry said matter-of-factly. “And I hope you all can keep a secret, too. At least for a little while. When he’s bigger, I’ll let him go. He’s just not…ready, yet.”

  Ruth Anne waved her hands in the air, in a mystical figure eight. “But The Great Miss Sasha knows all! You’ll have a helluva time hiding a live owl and an out-of-control tree.”

  “I know.” Merry said gently. “And you shouldn’t curse, Ruth Anne. Especially around Maggie. You know how impressionable she is.”

  “Hell, Maggie curses more than I do.”

  Maggie nodded, and Eve agreed.

  “That’s not the point. Anyways, please don’t tell Mama. Okay?” She looked at her sisters, her eyes imploring. “You have to trust me on this.”

  Ruth Anne returned to her post on the couch, turning up the volume on the TV. “I talk to the old woman as little as possible. Your secret is safe with me. But you should probably hide everything before she gets home. She may be out of her mind a little, but she’s still sharp as a tack when it suits her.”

  Maggie pointed at Eve. “You know I won’t say anything, but Eve’s a tattletale.”

  “I only tell on you,” Eve said, sticking out her tongue. “I’d never tell on Merry.”

  “Stop it, both of you.” Merry returned her attention to Starlight, petting his soft head. His energy had changed since that morning. He felt wan, almost sick, and the color of his aura had greened. “Ruth Anne, maybe you can also read up on how to take care of owls when you’re at Uncle Joes?”

  Ruth Anne raised both eyebrows, rubbing her hands together. A wide grinned overtook her face. “Research? On it!”

  Merry fed warm, healing energy into the owl through her touch, and after several minutes Starlight was once again asleep. As before, she had no idea how the creature had escaped his confines, but he certainly wanted her attention.

  “Well, you certainly got it,” she whispered.

  From the corner of her eye, she was nearly certain she saw the sapling spring up just a little bit more.

  This wasn’t at all what she wished for, but the owl and the tree where her responsibilities now.

  And she would see to them, for better or worse.

  THREE

  MISS SASHA’S VOICE boomed from the kitchen of Uncle Joe’s house, carrying all the way into the library where Merry and her sisters were sequestered.

  “This isn’t how it’s supposed to work out, Joseph! You know that. After all our plans, we can’t just give up!”

  Miss Sasha’s bellows were followed by the sounds of cupboards, opening and slamming shut, and pots crashing to the floor. Merry lifted her head slightly to listen.

  “What can we do, Sasha? The Council’s dissolved. Leonard’s sick. Dora and Rosa aren’t speaking to you. And after losing Armand and Larinda…”

  Another loud crash, like two copper pots clanging together. “Ingrates. All of them! And after everything I’ve done for them!”

  “We’ll have to forgo the Solstice dome this year. The girls aren’t old enough. Their powers are still developing.” There was a long pause, followed by Joe’s words, lower and more cautious that before. “Face it, Sasha. We just don’t have enough people.”

  “Armand will pay for his mutiny. And Larinda, too. Mark my words.”

  Merry shivered at the tone of her mother’s voice, then looked around the room. Ruth Anne plucked a book from a high shelf, skimmed it and then returned it to a different spot before pulling out another. Maggie stared out the window, pressing her fingers to the glass and steaming it up with her breath, the energy around her wild and restless. Eve played with a tea set on a Persian rug, serving her dolls and teddy bears in a voice mimicking their Aunt Dora’s.

  An archaic Elvis clock, with hands that no longer moved but a tick-tock that never ceased, watched over them all.

  No one seemed to be paying attention. They were used to Sasha’s outbursts, and as long as they weren’t directed at any of them, what did it matter?

  But it mattered to Merry. She slumped against the wall near the alcove separating this room from the next. It was Christmas and her family was torn, divided, and off in their own worlds. It wasn’t right.

  “Find anything about our tree?” she asked, working her way towards Ruth Anne. Her older sister was now sitting atop a stepladder, rummaging through the towering bookcase that circumnavigated the entire room.

  “Nope.” Ruth Anne admitted, removing her glasses and blinking away the exhaustion in her eyes. “Still working on it, though. The owl, too. Wish I had more to go on.”

  “Look up Star-Trees,” Merry suggested, standing on tiptoe to read over Ruth Anne’s shoulder. Starlight, who had been sleeping in her coat pocket, peeped his head out and Merry pushed him gently back down.

  “Star-Trees?” Ruth Anne, asked. “Are you sure? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “That doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

  “Alright. You’re the boss. But there better be cookies in it, in exchange for my servitude.”

  As Ruth Anne closed one book and reached for another, Miss Sasha appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a wide, yellow house dress and her hair was done up in curlers that hadn’t been there when they’d all left the house together.

  “Time to go, girls.” She clapped her hands twice in a chop-chop motion. “We have to get up early. There’s a holiday sale at the shop tomorrow, you know?”

  “Holiday sale?” Merry lifted her head, encouraged. Miss Sasha hadn’t shown any interest in any holiday for a very long time, even Halloween.

  “Of course, dear,” her mother answered, her voice an octave higher than usual.

  “Yay!” Merry glanced at Ruth Anne and nodded. Their research would have to wait. Reluctantly, Ruth Anne closed her book and sighed, not hiding her disappointment at having to return home.

  Merry walked over to her mother and took her hand, pressing it to her lips. It was lined with blue veins that crossed from her knuckles to her wrist, veins she hadn’t noticed even a year before. Her energy was tired too, and cold.

  Breathing in deeply through her nose and then releasing it the same way, Merry sent waves of warm energy into her mother’s hand. At once, Miss Sasha stood up straighter and smiled, seemingly unaware of the bolster to her demeanor. But the energy transfusion had taken a toll on Merry, leaving her slightly weakened and wobbly. Still, she didn’t confess any of it. It was not in her nature to brag or complain.

  It was duty. All of it.

  “Do we have to go already, Mom?” Eve asked, even as she gathered up her tea set. “My potions aren’t done.”

  “Yes, yes. And hurry. The night grows colder by the minute.”

  Maggie wrote her name in the steam on the window, then joined Merry and Eve. Ruth Anne tailed
behind.

  The December evening was cold, just as their mother said, and the temperature seemed to drop by the moment. They walked in single file as the woods around the narrow path home deepened, closing them in. As they walked, Miss Sasha chatted excitedly about her plans for the store’s holiday sale, Eve rambled to no one in particular about her upcoming dance recital, Ruth Anne pulled out a flashlight and read from her book, and Maggie kicked at stones and vowed she’d move to warmer weather once she was old enough.

  Merry fell far behind, peeking inside her jacket pocket where Starlight slept. Even in the dark she could tell that his coloring was more gray than white now. Sadly, she had no energy left to give him, having spent her reserve on her mother.

  The owl trembled, wrapping his head beneath his wings to shield itself from the frigid air.

  “Get some rest, Starlight. We’ll be home soon,” she promised.

  From somewhere deep within the surrounding woods a raven cawed.

  An omen, Merry knew.

  And not a good one.

  FOUR

  “MAMA, WAKE UP!” Merry shook her mother’s shoulders, trying to rouse her from her sleep on the couch. It was nearly eight in the morning, and the magick shop would open soon.

  Miss Sasha grumbled and buried her head under an ornate red throw pillow, then turned over. Merry shook her mother again, but Miss Sasha remained stubbornly asleep, even as the sun continued its slow rise into the gray sky. Merry looked frantically around, wondering what to do.

  “I don’t think she’s up for it, today,” Ruth Anne said, marching by with a piece of toast in one hand and a Poptart in the other. She ate them both in turn, licking her fingers between bites.

  Merry bit her lip. Ruth Anne was right. Miss Sasha’s raspy breath assured her that she wasn’t getting up anytime soon. Merry funneled a little more of her own energy into her mother, just enough to see if it would have any effect. The rasping ceased, replaced by a smooth snore, but her mother was no closer to waking than she was before.