Kitchen Witch

34 | Murmuration

The rain was coming down heavily now, and the windshield wipers could barely keep up as Sarah pulled out of the market and headed to the lighthouse. Charlotte sat in the passenger seat, eyes staring out the window, neither of them speaking. They passed the lobster trap tree monument covered in faded buoys in memory of those lost at sea. Charlotte remembered someone saying there were over 200 buoys on the tree. The meaning behind the buoys pressed on her heart as she willed the car to travel faster. The red and white tower soon came into sight, and Sarah pulled in next to the weathered tower. Charlotte had asked her to take her here, feeling a pull to it as she had the night of the Nor' Easter.

"Stay here with Charlie– keep him safe."

"I will," Sarah said, reaching out to squeeze her friend's hand. You can do this, Char; I know you can."

Charlotte squeezed back and pushed the car door open with effort, the wind fighting to keep her in. The car door slammed shut with force behind her, and her clothing became stuck to her heavy with rain as she pushed her way to the door of the lighthouse. She had noticed the lock was broken last week when out exploring. Some local teens likely broke it and had been enjoying the space to drink and hang out. The door flew open as soon as it caught the wind, and she entered to the wailing sound of the wind. There was a strange pressure to the building and a haunted howling of wind. She suspected a window had broken up in the tower. 

She took a deep breath and took to the ladder stairs. She tried to wipe her hands dry on her clothing, realizing that was useless. She gripped the handrails tightly as she went. She climbed up the three levels with some effort, arriving at the top level out of breath. Sure enough, one of the windows was broken; large shards of glass lay on the floor next to the discarded trash from hangouts. Beer cans, cigarette butts and chip bags lay among the broken glass.

The wind roared through the open glass, rattling the edges of what was left in the panes. She pushed herself forward, steading her feet and looked out toward the open ocean. Despite being early afternoon, the sky was shaded from the dark cover of clouds, and the water looked vicious, turning up white caps. Her heart squeezed thinking of Riley out there.

Riley, she needed to reach him, but could her power reach that far? She took a deep breath and oriented herself toward the north, which just happened to be the broken pane of glass. She closed her eyes, breathing in twice through her nose and once out her mouth repeatedly. As she cycled through the familiar breathing pattern, she reached out her senses, grounding her feet to the floor of the lighthouse and feeling them root down through the three floors into the red sandstone of the island. She hadn't felt that far down into the island before. 

Her eyes flashed open, staring into the storm, and she reached for the air that called her. At first, the warm breeze enveloped her, and oddity amongst the viscous cold wind howled through the lighthouse. She opened all her will to it, imploring it to help her, and her senses joined the roaring storm, and she felt herself travel over the churning water in search of Riley.

The boat pitched and rolled in the angry waves, the spray stinging Riley's face as he tried to steady his feet and hook the gaff onto the massive bluefin tuna. "Jesus H Christ!." He could hardly believe that the captain had been right. But he was staring at the enormous beast, fighting to not lose it in the waves hitting the boat. With concentrated effort, thankful for the harness securing him to the boat, he slipped the gaff under the tuna's gills. The crew quickly began the work of winching it up onto the deck. His muscles strained, pulling the ropes to secure it to the deck; they needed to secure the fish fast or risk losing it or, worse, one of the crew overboard as the storm worsened. He had never in all his years witnessed a storm come in so fast and furious. It wasn't like they set out in calm waters, but there hadn't been a warning about such a massive storm. 

This was the kind of widow maker that haunted the families of fishermen.

The tuna secured, he leaned against the gunwale catching his breath. The sight of the massive tuna against the backdrop of the storm was an impressive sight. Their payday was secured if they could manage to ride out the storm. Another wave rocked the boat as the call was made to pull up the anchors and steer the boat into the waves to prevent capsizing. He prayed Doyle knew what he was doing.

Charlotte could feel her power reaching out over the vast ocean, but she was beginning to struggle; she had never stretched her power so far before. Her heart was racing, the familiar heaviness filling her chest as she began to panic. She couldn't fail again, not like before. The warm breeze squeezed her like an old friend, reminding her she wasn't alone. No, she wasn't alone, and realizing that Charlotte filled her mind with her loved ones. 

She pictured the faces of her sweet girls Airlie and Bree, the strength of Maratha's loyalty, Sarah's unbridled energy, Old Man Murray's comfort, and the Quinn sister's mischievousness, and she could feel the village's faith in her. Drawing on that strength, she reached further, and a flicker formed in the tower, an image coming into view. 

It was her sister, her sweet little sister Sophia, who was standing there, her face as encouraging as ever. Her breath sucked in as her parent's images came into view, tears falling freely now. She was far from alone; the wind picked up, her bright red hair streaming out behind her, and she reached, searching for Riley.

Filled with renewed strength, she felt her power calling out beyond just the air and felt the vibrations of wings moving in unison. Hundreds of black birds swooped past the tower toward the ocean. Seagulls and gannets joined, even the great shearwater. Thousands of birds had joined, swooping and swirling through the roaring winds like a great murmuration. Their combined power was intoxicating.

Riley wasn't the praying type, but he prayed that the harnesses held, as he held on tight as the boat maneuvered to hit the oncoming waves. The storm was relentless, but old Doyle was holding firm, his many years on the water proving his deftness as he handled the waters. Riley looked up toward the sky as movement caught his eye. "What on earth–" He wiped the water from his eyes from the near-constant spray, wondering if what he saw was real as thousands of birds swirled through the air. He was about to question his sanity, witnessing birds so far out from shore, let alone such a huge swirling mass of them, almost like the churning waves themselves. 

When he felt it, or rather her. He could feel Charlotte's presence, like a siren's call. He was either about to fall victim to the oldest fisherman's tale, or he prayed it was the case that there was hope after all.

The temptation to get lost in the sensation of flying was real. She couldn't believe how connected she felt to the airborne creatures. But she had to focus; her energy was draining again, and time was running out. She couldn't withstand this amount of effort indefinitely. She pictured his face in her mind's eye and felt the keen bird's eye narrow in on a boat battling the waves. 

She had done it. She had found Riley. 

Recentering herself, she called out to the storm winds, urging them to slow. She could feel a subtle shift in the storm's energy, but her focus was challenging. She began to wobble on her feet. She opened her eyes and saw the vision of her family fading. 

She was so close,  and yet, all too familiar panic was rising like the tide. She was about to lose it all again. She screamed out in frustration, the sound of her voice triggering a memory.

"That day on the beach when she let out a long forgotten primal scream, her foot cut open from the razor shell, blood flowing in the water and her power awakening."

Desperate with the time running out, Charlotte looked over to the wall with the jagged, broken shards of glass. She bent over dizzyingly and retrieved a piece, her eye-catching, now almost transparent image of her mother. Her mother nodded, and that was all the encouragement Charlotte needed as she ran the sharp glass across her palm and then the other. Blood ran immediately, dripping to the floor. 

Charlotte thought she felt a pressure on her hand and looked down to find her mother holding it. Standing side by side, holding her mother's hand, a mother and daughter's magic combined. She called on the last of her power, and the storm began to relent. The sound of the wind quieted, and the sky slowly brightened as the clouds parted. Her legs finally gave in, and she fell to the floor as the image of her family faded from the room. Tears fell as freely as the drops of blood from her palms as she fought to stay awake.