Water Witch by Amelia Bishop Read Free Book Online Page A

light-colored stones in the sand, and stuffed them in my pockets.
    The embarrassment of admitting my weakness with dream visions still stung. Especially on top of my already feeble interpretation skills, and my confusing feelings for Salil. I pulled my phone from my pocket and realized I didn’t even have anyone to call. I’d lost touch with the guys from the coven, and though I knew I could call them and they’d be cool, I couldn’t just dump all these things on them out of the blue. I seriously considered calling Scott. No. Better to let that bond fade.
    Being single and friendless felt like one more failure, and I had to swallow back stupid self-pitying tears. No, I won’t cry about this .
    I took a deep breath and mentally repeated my old affirmations from high school: I love myself…I love all others…I am infinitely loved…I forgive myself…I forgive all others .
    Better. Slightly pathetic that I’d reverted to the same emotional state I’d endured as a bullied teenager, but whatever, I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I could fix this.
    Visualizing a pentagram on the ground large enough for me to sit inside, I walked the five lines, dragging my feet to form the star in the sand. At each point, I carefully placed a stone. For all I knew, Salil was watching me from afar and laughing at my weak protections. But old habits die hard, and I’d never attempt a vision outdoors without some kind of safeguard. In my home, years of spellwork, layers of positive energy, and all my possessions served to shield me. But out in the open, even in one of my power places, I always felt vulnerable while in a vision.
    Sitting cross-legged in the center of my star, I dug my fingers into the sand and closed my eyes. I isolated one sound: the rhythmic slap of water against the pebbled beach. When that alone filled my mind, I moved inward, regulating my breathing, matching it to the tide. Finally I detached my mind from my body, working from toes to head, until my consciousness floated free.
    I was looking for more than a vision here. I needed to sharpen my skill. I needed answers.
    So without looking in any particular place, not focusing on a person or an event, I floated until patterns began to emerge around me. Some people say they see threads or fibers forming an intricate weaving. Other witches see a grid of connected shapes, like some kind of video game. But I’ve always been shown a network of roots in my Journeying visions.
    ***
    There is a giant tree I can’t possibly comprehend, and a tangle of roots around me. Some are small and twist in on themselves, others are thick and long, winding upward to sprout leaves or flowers or fruits. Some look sick and wasted, others swell with life energy.
    If I touched them, I’d know what decisions or events they represented. But I couldn’t touch all of them. Some always slipped away from me, not allowing contact. For now, I just looked.
    A large root, which had grown in a tight downward spiral, shriveled before my eyes. Another group of roots, with many tiny divisions and offshoots, seemed to grow stronger in direct proportion to the other’s demise. I moved back, trying to see a bigger picture, hoping to spot patterns.
    A flash of movement caught my attention, and I expanded my awareness for a wider view of the root system. At first it was difficult to tell what had moved. Then I realized it was the soil itself, being pushed by water flooding it, trickling into tight spaces. As I watched, large tangles were swept away, washed out, or dissolved. Hundreds of pathways—just gone. Muddy water rushed in to the now empty areas, threatening even the leafiest stems. Part of the tree trunk buckled and re-formed into a thinner version of itself, one with much less vegetation around it.
    I admit, I hadn’t practiced Journeying as much as I should, but I’d been there often enough. And I’d never seen anything like that before. My heart raced, almost pulling me back to my physical body.