Wiccan Break by Owen Townend

 

Friday

 

Tabitha closed the portal and sighed. Eloise uncovered the mirror and went back to sucking on the chain of her ankh necklace. Drusilla stepped forward from the opposite end of the room to scrub away the chalk lines.

            “I’m so done with this week,” Tabitha announced, wiping the blood from her nostril.

            “How much longer can we keep this up?” Eloise asked. “I mean, spell quotas? They’re driving this coven into the ground.”

            “It’s a shit show,” Drusilla replied, rising from her knees, “which is why I’ve done something. For us.”

            Tabitha and Eloise frowned at her.

            Drusilla grinned. “I booked a place in the countryside. For the weekend.”

            “Where?” Tabitha asked.

 

Saturday

 

The sisters approached the church.

            “It’s converted,” Drusilla explained. “Deconsecrated and all that. We won’t burn.”

            To demonstrate she opened the door, hopped over the threshold and back again. Nevertheless Tabitha wrinkled her nose and Eloise kept sucking on her ankh.

            Drusilla shook her head and led them inside. Eloise hugged her arms together and Tabitha knocked a cross so that it fell upside down.

            As they entered the main room, the sisters gazed up at the old oak beams and the stained glass windows. There were no depictions of humans, just lambs gambolling in a field.

            “So what do we think?” Drusilla asked.

            Eloise turned to Tabitha who scoffed. “I suppose it’s pretty enough.”

            “Quite spacious too,” Eloise added, twirling around, “without the pews.”

            Tabitha’s gaze fell on a table at the far end. On top of it was a polished brass candle stand. She hurried over. “That’s gorgeous! Think of all the candles we could put in in this thing. Do we have fifty in the car?”
            Drusilla did some quick calculations. “Yes.”

            “Think of the glow! The smell!”

            “Nice to see a little devotion from you,” Drusilla joked.

            Tabitha scowled back.

            “Oh come one, Tab,” Drusilla said. “Lighten up.”

            Eloise chuckled.

            “If you’re going to be all quips,” Tabitha replied, “you better have brought wine.”

            Drusilla winked and produced a bottle of red from behind her back. Passing it to Tabitha, she conjured up three glass flutes. Eloise clapped and Tabitha started pouring.

            “Careful,” Drusilla said. “Don’t you dare splash a drop of the Lord’s blood.”

            Tabitha just groaned.

 

Sunday

 

They woke up the following morning, sore-headed and quiet as the unmarked graves surrounding the church. Eloise, the youngest of the three sisters, was first to recover. She made teas and passed around bowls of muesli.

            “Jesus,” Drusilla said.

            Tabitha glared at her.

            “Not a quip.”

            “Yeah, well, thank God I don’t remember your comedy show last night.” Tabitha rubbed sleep from her eyes. “In fact, I barely remember anything. What did we do, El?”

            Eloise smirked. “Raised the dead.”

            Drusilla nodded. “Friendly ghost?”

            “Yes. The old gardener.” Eloise took a sip of her tea. “Tab disturbed him while spewing in the bushes.”

            “Fuck,” Tabitha replied. “Did I piss him off?”

            “A bit. But you gave him his last wish.”

            “What was that?”

            “Someone to yell at.” Eloise set down her cup and did some stretches. “He was timid all his life. As soon as he told you off, he passed on.”

            Drusilla squinted. “Wait. There was something else, right?”

            Eloise nodded. “We promised to tidy up the garden in his absence.”

            She waved her hand and created a portal midair. Reaching through, she pulled out a grass hoe and passed it to Tabitha.

            She groaned. “I’m never drinking again.”

 

Monday

 

Tabitha collected the last spent black candle from the devotional stand and sniffed what was left of the frankincense. Her shoulders slumped.

            Drusilla laid a hand on her shoulder. “We can come back, you know.”

            Tabitha snorted and turned around. “The only thing I’ll miss is this stand.”

            Drusilla cocked an eyebrow. Tabitha barged past her to help Eloise with the bags. She was back to sucking the ankh.

            “Really?” Tabitha asked, tugging the chain till Eloise dropped it.

            “The spell quota’s freaking me out. Was the deadline the midnight before Friday or after Friday?”

            “After Friday.” Tabitha pinched the bridge of her nose. “El, if you’re not gonna listen, it’ll really hold things up.”

            “Guys, guys,” Drusilla said, taking a bag off each of them. “Work starts this afternoon. Let’s just enjoy what’s left of the morning, OK? What’s left of our weekend break.”
            Eloise shrugged. “It was fun. Even the gardening.”

            “When the owner sees what we’ve done, she might just give us a discount for next time.”

            “Well, that and the rune,” Tabitha added.

            They stepped out of the front door and glanced up at the spire. After trimming the grass, Tabitha climbed up there and marked her sigil on the base. It had since turned invisible.

            “True,” Drusilla said. “Still, I can’t say I’m pleased with you doing that.”
            “It’s a precaution,” Tabitha replied. “The owner might seem on the level but I’d wager she’s not above claiming deposits for minor transgressions.”

            “Like what?”

            “Well,” Eloise spoke up. “There are parts of Saturday night that I don’t even remember.”

            Drusilla wondered if they had spawned any mystic flames and left them unattended. Or worse, some kind of transmogrification. She had done it herself on her eighteenth birthday.

            She sighed. “Fair enough. The rune should fix anything we forgot. Now let’s go.”

            Tabitha smirked. “It’s a long drive back to civilisation.”

            Eloise whistled back at surrounding birdsong then followed her sisters to the car. At least she was smiling again.

            Drusilla took in the church one final time before starting the engine. She chuckled to herself.

            “We’ll be back by next equinox.”