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The Thirteenth Witch

Chapter Eighteen

by Raine Monday

Thomas withdrew into the Tree, and found himself surround and encompassed by the Tree Mother.

Come child, the sounds of the Tree Mother's voice. We must talk.

Thomas found himself back at the treehouse, or…treemancave, and Joe liked to call it. She giggled as she walked through the small structure, sitting down in one of the Bark'o'Loungers. Literally a chair made of bark.

The Tree Mother assumed form in front of her. Her hair rustled with thousands of leaves, streaming back behind her, her eyes the green of Photosynthesis, her body, literally made from the trunk of the Tree.

"How are you feeling, child." Tree Mother asked, if a voice made from the wind.

"Happy, sad, worried." Thomas shrugged perfect shoulders. "All three."

"Would living here as you are be so bad?"

"With someone as loving as you? No, not bad."

"But you love another."

Thomas nodded, feeling tears bite her eyes.

"I must tell you, child, when someone enters my domain, I am reluctant to let them go."

"I figured."

"You did?" Tree Mother smiled. "Tell me."

"Your love is a deep as the Ocean! As wide as the Sky!"

"Tell me the real reason, child."

Thomas giggled. "Joe told me she'd been 'stuck' for the last eighty years."

"Yes, that one has never truly belonged."

"I can see that."

Tree Mother caressed Thomas's face with flowered fingers, weaving strands of daffodils through her hair. "You could though."

"It…wouldn't be fair."

Tree Mother nodded. "To the one you love? Out there?"

Thomas nodded.

"Would it surprise you to learn that Agatha, leader of the Coven, implored me to take Joseph into my caress?"

"Wow, really?"

Tree Mother nodded. "I did owe a favor to the Coven. They prevented a rather fire happy demon from turning me into a conflagration one dry sol year."

"A dry year?" Thomas giggled. "It feels like everything here is perpetually wet."

"That is how they saved me, child. They relocated me here, to the Nexus."

"Oh, I see."

"You might be happy to know, I came from your world."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "From a mountain in Africa, I think you call it."

"I could see that."

"Regardless of what might happen tonight, child. You will always be welcome here."

Thomas felt happy at that. "Truly?"

Tree Mother nodded. "All you have to do is ask. And I will accept you."

"That's…really nice to know, actually."

Tree Mother enfolded her in her leaf covered branches. "You will be loved, cherished, and adored, forever."

Thomas nodded, feeling the bite of tears.

"I know you are having a hard time finding your place here, in the Nexus."

Thomas nodded.

"Your partner has moved on, and been embraced by the coven. There is no male equivalent of the Coven in the nexus."

Thomas nodded again, wiping her eyes.

"Here, you would be welcome. Not as Thomas, or even Joseph. No, you're name would be JoAnna. Your name is JoAnna now, at least to me."

"Truly?" Thomas…JoAnna said.

"Indeed, child."

She smiled, feeling happy and content

"I do not know what the future holds. Whether you will depart in the next 2 phytos, or 2 million. But know that, no matter where you are, what body you inhabit, to me you will always be my lovely JoAnna, and have a place here. Okay?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Now, let us cuddle until your time is up, or you decide to stay with me."

"Okay, Mother!"

And they did.

The swap happened like a breath on a summer breeze. One moment she was lying in the embrace of the TreeMother, then next she was standing on the ground next to Agatha. Or, he was. They were?

Thomas stumbled, his brain not ready to carry the weight his legs already held. "Wup!" he nearly collided with Agatha. "Whoa, hello there."

"I assume with your clumsy footing, the swap did occur as we considered it might?"

Thomas looked down at his hands. Heavy, male fingers, large palms, the cut he'd given himself the other day using the awl in the workshop. "Yep, looks like it."

"Let us wait a moment or two until your identity confusion has integrated."

Thomas nodded, feeling strangely sad. He looked up at the immense tree. Goodbye, Tree Mother.

Let us only say farewell for now, child.

Thomas grinned. She…He…was still in communication with the Tree Mother.

Joe stepped out from the bark. Looking supple and toned and Lord, had he really been in that body?

"I see we're back to normal," she said a bit wistfully.

"Mhmm," Joe said.

Joe gave him a soft smile, her green eyes glimmering in the light cast by the oil lamps nearby. She walked up to Thomas and gave his beard a tug. "Well, don't be a stranger, huh?"

Thomas nodded and swallowed.

"Ahem," Agatha said.

Joe turned suddenly, and embraced the Witch heartily, kissing her salaciously on the mouth.

"Impertinent child," Agatha said, after the kiss. But she didn't protest too loudly, patting the back of her bun.

"But you wuv me!" Joe said, booping the witch on the nose.

Agatha nodded and gave a smile. In it, Thomas saw the young woman she had been. A woman with hopes, dreams, and passion. She must have been quite the looker in her youth.

"Wait," Thomas glanced around. "Where's Esmerelda?"

"I'm not sure," Agatha said. "She was supposed to be here. This was the appointed time.

"She has contacted you by, I dunno, Mind Zoom in the past. Are you able to speak to her through the Coven Hotline?"

"I reached out to her a few moments ago, and there was no response.

"Damn, something's wrong." Thomas started running, then started sprinting.

"Ugh, when will that child learn not to run alone at night in Sælicbrook?"

Thomas felt himself lifted into the air, his progress slowing, then being whisked through the night like his own private plane.

He laughed at the feeling of flying. It was quite exhilarating! If this wasn't such a serious issue, he would want to do more.

Agatha set him gently on his front walk, and he sprinted up the path. The door opened in front of him.

"Esmerelda!" he called, not hearing anything in response.

He pounded up the stairs. He should have never let her come back here alone. Not if there was a possibility of a cursed mirror that could do anything to her. He fervently hoped nothing had happened to her, and he wasn't too late.

Opening the door to the Master suite, he found the mirror glowing crimson. Esmerelda was asleep on the bed, but she turned fitfully in her sleep as if gripped by a nightmare.

"Babe!" Thomas shook her shoulder. He didn't like how her face was scrunched up so tight with her eyes closed. And he really didn't like how the mirror was essentially some kind of crimson lighthouse shining directly on her. It made her elderly face have shadows that shouldn't have existed, the skull behind the skin nearly visible.

Agatha entered the room behind him. "Stand back, dear. I'll need some space. And find something to cover that damned mirror."

Thomas stepped away, Esmerelda was still locked in some kind of fitful nightmare. He went to the glowing mirror and found a quilt that had fallen in front. He picked it up, and covered it, casting the room into almost complete darkness.

A light bloomed from one of Agatha's gems in her hair. She had her arms spread wide, and seemed to be chanting something in a language Thomas couldn't identify, but one Esmerelda knew by heart.

A few moments, later, Esmerelda stopped turning and twisting. A few moments after that, her eyes opened, like the shutters on a window. She looked over at them.

"Thomas?" She said, her voice a raspy croak. "Agatha?"

"Yes, dear." Agatha knelt next to her. "How are you feeling."

"I have a headache," she said, laying back. "Why are you here?"

"You were caught in the throes of a cursed object. Where did you get this device?"

Esmerelda looked at the mirror. "It's just a mirror. I bought it in town."

"It is not just a mirror. It is…well. We shall speak of this in the morning."

Esmerelda looked as if she needed to go back to sleep.

"Thomas, I think we are out of the woods. We need to get this device out of the room."

"Agreed," Thomas said. He had an urge to take off the quilt. Something was wrong, and he wanted to find out what it was.

Between the two of them, Thomas was able to drag the heavy mirror out, and down the stairs. Agatha helped with steams of air, and Thomas used his muscles.

He hadn't given any thought to what he'd just recovered from. Not just being a wood nymph but being a female wood nymph. He hadn't really had much time to do any, uh, exploration of the female form, but it hadn't been as traumatic as he once thought it would have been.

But it was nice to have muscles again.

"Why is it glowing," Thomas said. "I feel like it's going to explode."

"You aren't far off the mark," Agatha said, and he could hear the strain in her voic. Even though the streamers of magic came from her, he hadn't considered it might come at a cost. She'd also basically flown him home, and that must have cost her too.

"Where should we take it?" Thomas said, as they reached the main floor of their house.

"Let's take it downstairs for now. We'll set it in the middle of the spirit circle."

"Esmerelda's gonna love that," Thomas murmured, but did as instructed.

Once they had it in the circle, Thomas placed the quilt back over it, and taped both sides, so whatever the magical fuck that was trying to escape, or curse them, or whatever, would at least have a harder time. Though, I guess if you were a supernatural being using a mirror as your tool, you could probably set it on fire.

Let's not go down that path. Thomas finished taping up the mirror and stepped back out of the circle to join an exhausted Agatha.

With what seemed like reserve strength, Agatha touched the silver circle embedded in the floor. Sparks flew from all areas of the circle as if the negative and positive terminals of a battery had been connected. The mirror device in the center, literally rocked back and forth, then fell quiescent, the crimson glow from under the quilt, winked out.

"Think you killed it," Thomas said.

"Oh, no, dear boy. It's merely contained. And not for long."

Thomas nodded, brushing his hands off, and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Could you assist me back upstairs, dear?" Agatha said, holding out her arm. "I feel, I've overtaxed myself a bit."

"Of course!" Thomas held out his arm, and she used it for balance as they slowly walked up the stairs.

"Now," she sighed. "Please make us some tea. We have some things to discuss."

Thomas nodded. "Esmerelda has several kinds. Which one would you like?"

"Earl Grey, hot," she said. Thomas chuckled, thinking she might have been making a joke about a certain television series, but she glanced up at him and wore a scowl.

"What is it we need to talk about?" Thomas got up and started for the kitchen.

"Your wife," Agatha said, flopping down in one of the comfortable chairs by the fire. "And the fact that when she spoke to us just now, she didn't speak with an accent."

Thomas felt a shiver go up his spine. And knew they were in for a long night.