didn’t see him when I walked in. I grabbed a soda out of the fridge, slipped into some flip-flops, and headed out towards the cemetery with all my witchy wickedness. I knew just where I wanted to go to set up my altar. The book had emphasized the importance of placement. You didn’t want the magic in your house. You wanted it someplace sacred. There could be no mirrors, no computers, no Wi-Fi availability. All books but the spell book had to be closed. I knew exactly where to go, to find my place.
I walked over the wooden bridge and into the woods. The slave cabins sat quietly in the waning evening sun. Tall magnolia trees towered over them leaving scattered white petals on the ground beneath them. One of the cabins was in a better state of repair than the others. The roof was still intact and the floors were still strong. There was an old wooden table in the corner that was sturdy. I walked in. The sun drifted in through the window and onto the old floor. I knew I had chosen well. The cabin moved me. I sat down beside the old wooden table and placed a large iron tray on it. I placed four candles on the tray. They were all blue for healing. I surrounded the candles with rose quartz and herbs. I looked at my altar and raised my hands in the air. There were words I was supposed to say. There was a god I was supposed to name, but as the words passed my lips, they changed.
“I dedicate this altar to the spirit of this place,” I said.
I bit my tongue. I didn’t know why the words had come out wrong. I let it pass and used the white altar candle I had placed in the middle of my candle garden to light all the other candles.
“I dedicate this candle to Elisa, may she find a place of peace in this world,” I said as I lit the first candle.
“I dedicate this candle to Stephen, may his demons be driven out and may his madness leave him,” I said as I lit the next candle.
“I dedicate this candle to Harry. May his sorrow run from him,” I said as I lit the third candle.
“I dedicate this candle to Rachel. May she learn to forget the horror that is her past,” I said as I lit the fourth candle.
I sat back and looked at my little candle garden. It was a healing garden. The book said to draw the energy for the garden from around you. I breathed in and watched the fire. Suddenly, the flames flickered bright and each one popped, like a firecracker. I jumped back. Large sparks rose up from the garden like fireflies. The scent of magnolias filled the air and it became so thick, I coughed. The sky above the little cabin darkened and the sunlight faded.
I sat in front of the garden, as I had before and watched the fire dance. I felt as if it were pulling my strength into it. I grew sleepy. My fatigue spread out throughout my body and I lay down on the dirty wooden floor. I lay on the floor watching the candles grow brighter as the smoke coiled upwards in thick spirals.
As it had the night before, sleep overtook me. I drifted away into a netherworld where I walked hand in hand with a strange man. He was dark. He had dark skin and dark hair. His eyes were black and when I held his hand, I felt at peace. We walked alone together through a world that looked like something a bad science fiction writer would dream up.
When I awoke, it was daylight and the sweat dripped off me and puddled on the floor. I checked my watch. It was a few minutes before ten. I had slept for almost thirteen hours on that hard floor. Thank God it was Sunday and my off day. The candles had burnt out and only wax was left. I raised my arms above my head and stretched.
“The magic is spent and sent,” I said. “I thank the spirits who helped me in last night’s work. May you go in peace.”
I stood up and stretched. My back felt like I had spent the night on the rack. I leaned backwards and felt my back pop. I looked at the candle garden with its spent magic. I cleaned up the used wax and the other altar items and buried them in the cemetery behind