Rebirth: The Gathering of the Witches, Wicca Trilogy Part 1

By Mary Devey

Elizabeth Grainger never imagined that her destiny would change with the nightmares but they did. Each nightmare carried its own pathway and revolving door where secrets could be told in a way only she could change. She starts life like any young woman would but then things don't seem so real anymore when the nightmares edge in the most horrifying way telling her things she wishes she never knew. There are witches she sees, people who use the dark forces for power and destruction, and then there's the beautiful professor who tells her that only she is deigned to bring the world towards continuity.

Enter the forces of good and evil, and enter the world of a long forgotten past where Bessie sees that what she defines as reality and as the world of her nightmares is but a thin line and a crossover that results in the most terrifying ordeal for her when people come in all walks, and spirits take forms that engender evil in its most putrid form. The past is a see through for who she once was, the present a world festered with the good and the evil, and the future, a destiny she shapes with a tumultuous ride through time.

Be warned: Contains sexual content.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Devey
• Release date: Apr 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476325088

Mary Devey

Mary Devey writes historical fiction and everything Wicca. Her first book "Sold into Slavery: The Story of Adaku" addresses the effects of African slavery and its consequence for one woman and the people who surround her. Highlighted in three parts, the first part addresses Adaku's life as a kidnapped woman sealed away from the rest of the African world in a place called a baracoon where she meets other kidnapped tribal women like her. Part II on The Middle Passage will be available soon at Smashwords.com. Mary has also recently completed Part I of her Wicca Trilogy which promises the most unusual - Rebirth: The Gathering of the Witches. Other books written include, "In Her Mama's Shoes" - a coming of age book that addresses the tragic consequences for a young girl who instead of looking onwards, turns the pages of time to only learn too much about her Mama.

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Rebirth: The Gathering of the Witches,

Wicca Trilogy

Part 1

By Mary Devey

Copyright © 2012 Mary Devey

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Sway to the Dark,

And you will but See,

Darkness is the Shadow of the Day,

When Devils lurk and witches Play,

Behind the Shroud of Light's shining Way,

There is a time for Creation,

A time for Play and there is but one Day,

When Love comes to Seek,

When another world seeks to peek

And the Raven has yet to speak its Way

Contents

Chapter 1:The Start of the Nightmares

Chapter 2:The Five Elements

Chapter 3:The Contract

Chapter 4:The Gathering

Chapter 5:The Neighborhood

Chapter 6:Cristin Crogan

Chapter 7:The Obsession

Chapter 8:Death of a Witch

Chapter 9:Caught in the Past

Chapter 10:Countess Helena Thornton

Chapter 11:Shadows from the Past

Chapter 12:Secrets in the Old House

Chapter 13:Pathway of Love

Chapter 1:The Start of the Nightmares

Bessie shivered feeling the icy cold night consume her. Somewhere in the distance, the owl hooted a death call. Then the voices screeched again, jarring and harsh, of words that spelled a hellish call. Quickly, the teenager hastened on. Once or twice, she stopped to regain her bearings, her eyes pitched at the intense darkness that surrounded her. She could feel her chest rise and fall, the fear of the thick cold night sinking deep into distress.

Got to move fast, she heard herself say, I need to get out of here. Why can't they shake me or something! Just get me out of the darn sleep! she moaned aloud.

She bolted into the first entry way she saw, a wooded path that seemed to trail on but as Bessie moved, she could tell that it was fear that was propelling her deeper into thick woods that sealed the most defying branches in her way. Then the voices began again almost like moans and fearsome calls of some long forgotten past. But as hard as she tried, the words only emerged in a tangled web of confusing diction. And it wasn't long before Bessie realized she had moved in just too deep into a thick dense forest that showed no signs of exit. None whatsoever. Just more trees that grew thicker in girth than she could possibly imagine and a darkness that seemed to draw an obscene invite to the creatures of the night.

Bessie! Come to us now, she heard the heavy voices call upon her again. The dark, she could see, carried spirits that sounded from a long forgotten land.

What are they? she wondered feeling her body tense with fear again but fear carried the Devil's work and she knew what that would bring.

Quickly, she guessed her next move, ruffling the dead leaves and startling the little birds and sleepy rabbits in her way. She could not understand how she came to be in a place where huge trees stood almost touching the dark, cloudy sky and where hideous voices called which she faintly knew to be visions of some long, forgotten past. She had been to the place before, she knew that, but nothing gelled in her mind. Nothing that told her of the safety or dangers of the woods and the spirits that dwelled within. The place, if anything, remained hideous with the darkness looming upon her and coupled with the unknown, Bessie could feel her own tension ticking hard within her. She had to get away but how? Where would she start? She was in a vortex, a pathway that could take her any place and each step was one that brought light or darkness to her. She could feel it in her bones.

She brushed her hands over her face, drawing her wet hair away. She needed to think straight. There was something familiar about the grounds she trod on. Something that told her she had been in the same spot some time before but as hard as she tried to gauge the familiarity of the area, she could not place any firm recollection of the area. Everything seemed so confusing and Bessie cried out, heart pounding as her fear intensified over the unknown. She had to get away from the wicked voices. She had to get back home.

She drew a heave seeking renewed energy then ran purposefully until she stopped short near a stream that meandered round a bend that pointed to the south. She sank her body down to the ground. Nearby, a large crow cawed an eerie note of reproach and Bessie looked up. It was a black bird, so big that she was sure it was not of the kind she had ever seen but there was something else that frightened her. The bird's eyes suddenly began to glow showing reddish balls where its eye sockets sat.

Shooo…shoo away! Go! Get out of here! she heard herself cry but the bird mocked her, its eyes taking an aura of continued menace. Then without reason, it fluttered above Bessie menacingly, circling and taunting the girl. Bessie flagged the bird away again and again but nothing worked. And when the crow attacked, she could feel it scratching her skin with its sharp talons, cawing demonically almost seeking to tear her eyes out. Bessie shouted frantically, her hands edging outwards in all ways to protect herself but the crow lunged on, seeking more painful pecks on her skin.

Get away from me! Go away dammit! she cried out desperately. Help me! Someone help me please! she shouted out as she drew herself to the ground, caging herself into a ball to ward off the onslaught of the wicked bird.

But then, she could feel a cool breeze send a soothing calmness to her.

Bessie…Bessie, she suddenly heard.

It was a gentle voice that now called her. Without warning, she felt someone hold her up, steadying her legs and her body as she stood to the ground. And when nature assailed her with the sweet smell of the forest, the harmonious wind carried a spiritual force that awoke her senses. Bessie felt the lightness seep her soul, her spirit gaining strength now, but it was the incantation of words which drew forth from her mouth that surprised the young girl. They were words she had never spoken before.

She saw the crow edge off, cawing desperately to be rid of the spiritual force that came to tug at it. Bessie could feel the wind ushering it away gently then with a persistence that frightened the ugly bird. Once it was gone, Bessie felt the same gentle stirring of the senses as a calm serenity descended upon her. There was something terrible that had drawn her into the bowels of the forest but there was something else that had come to her aid. She could feel a mystical presence of some kind and she knew the place rang a strange chord with her. Yet her mind seemed to thwart the very existence of the place. Nothing made much sense to her and everything she knew came in pieces that told her nothing.

More voices sounded again and her body felt a jolt and a push. This time, she heard the familiar voices ring through her, igniting comfort and easing her out of the unknown. Her eyes opened wide, shocked at the fear that had gripped her in her sleep. Her hair was wet and her face, tense from fright. Again, another malevolent nightmare and each time, the nightmare seemed much stronger than the night before but in all this, Bessie was still able to evoke a calm ending to her nightmarish horrors.

Mom! she sounded her voice crackling deep as her mother’s hands reached out to touch her cheek and wipe her tears away.

Bessie threw a hug around her mother feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

Mom, I am so glad you are here! Have you been here all this while?

Bessie, what’s going on? Why are you having these nightmares again? she heard her mother ask.

Caroline Grainger stroked her daughter delicately. For days now, ten days to be exact, Bessie seemed to be battling nightmares, recurrent ones which kept coming and never seemed to stop. And for the last eight nights, she had stayed up to watch over her daughter, sometimes lounging on the small sofa chair close by.

Bessie, what's the meaning of all this? Why are you screaming in your sleep?

Caroline looked at her husband wishing he would walk his way cautiously with their daughter but he steered on unable to contain his obvious agitation. But really what ruled their nights these days were fear and the knowledge that their daughter had more troubles than they thought.

What are all these words you speak at night? Funny words almost like some sort of incantation.

Bessie looked at her parents. Why did Dad always have to ask so much? How could she possibly know anything at all? She knew she spoke funny words…incantations, if you have to call them but they were words which spoke no relevance to their lives. They were just meaningless mumbo jumbo that came from nowhere. Surely they meant nothing at all because in her wake state, these words meant nothing to her and she hated it when Dad always recorded them. He always seemed to need his evidence to make his point and she hated it plenty. He could be such a pig when he wanted to push his darn point across!

How the hell am I supposed to know that Dad? And why are you always asking like you think I am pretending or what? Perhaps I'm mad. Maybe, that would set things straight about everything huh?

Don't be rude Bessie. You father is just being concerned.

Well, he sure has a funny way of saying it.

Caroline and Michael Grainger looked at each other, a little embarrassed. The truth that dug deep within them was a concern that their daughter could be possessed. The loud rapping on the windows frightened Michael and Caroline each time Bessie convulsed on the bed. And every time she got into those horrible nightmares, they could hear their daughter mouthing words that were totally foreign to them, words which seemed oddly Celtic in origin.

Her father walked to her, arms folded over his chest as looked glumly at his daughter. Recently, he had been wondering about whether they should be seeing someone who could help Bessie deal with the bad dreams. It almost seemed they were close to getting a voodoo priest and that would be a historic joke for him.

Bessie, your dreams are getting too virulent. Is there something that you are keeping inside that you need to release honey? Did you have a spat in school? he asked gently.

He was worried that his usually calm daughter was now looking like a disheveled and confused girl. He was beginning to feel concerned that the lack of sleep would eventually affect Bessie and her grades at school. She was a straight A student and he wanted to see nothing less of her. The point was she had to get to Harvard at all costs and he was going to make it happen. If she wanted to be the best, she had to be with the best. There was no working around it. Just plain hard work would take her to the helm but first, he had to deal with this pressing problem that was gnawing them deep.

Well, if you think I am going crazy, then the answer is a big NO to you Dad.

Bessie, that is no way to talk to your father like that!

Just what the hell then is he trying to tell me? I'm mad? What if I am then?

Caroline stroked her daughter eager to dispel Michael’s thoughtless conjecture.

It is just a nightmare and we know that, don’t we Michael? she quickly added looking at her husband. Men were sometimes so thoughtless. She glared at her husband almost as if to reprimand him for pushing on too quickly with a task that was best left to her.

Sorry, I just lost it. I guess but we are darn worried Bessie.

As soon as she was sure her husband had assented, Caroline directed herself back to her daughter.

Why do you allow it to take over your sleep state to such an extent Bessie? Is there something that you are keeping away from us that we should know about? Maybe, a fight with someone or something? Just tell us honey. Anything that would allow us to help you.

Bessie laughed good naturedly. She didn’t need her parents so worked up over her.

Guys, c’mon. I am fine. It is just a nightmare. Everyone gets nightmares right? she persuaded hoping they’d agree.

Lately, they had been prodding her for too many answers and she really had none to spare. The truth was she didn’t know what to say at all. She was trying to crawl out of the hole herself and she bloody well did not know where to start. But if only they would let her work her own way…

Her parents looked at her concerned.

Well nightmares should not be recurring and should not be happening this often to a young girl like you, added her father placidly his eyes focused on his daughter and then at Caroline. I want you to hear something, he stated as he reached for the radio and played the tape.

As the tape played, Bessie heard her shrill screams and the mounting fear that spilled off from her nightmares. What made her more curious though were the words that were uttered, words which were seemingly almost Celtic in origin.

I said all that?

Bessie was shocked. She had never spoken Gaelic nor did she understand what it all meant but she was now angry she was watched.

How could you tape my voice Dad! she cried out as she threw the blanket away and walked over to the radio, slamming it down with her hand. Please don’t do this again, she declared tears streaming down her face. What are you trying to prove from all this? That I am mad? I am just having nightmares, that’s all! People get them once in a while you know.

"You have said once in a while but your nightmares are happening almost everyday. You should know why we are worried. You have entered a state that needs help Bessie, can’t you see?" stated her father firmly.

Caroline watched the scene ready to spring now. Michael sometimes forgot when to draw the line. This was not one of his marketing campaigns where he got to prove his points. Surely he knew that?

Michael, please….stop, she urged gently holding his hand.

Michael wasn’t too pleased but the strange words bothered him.

He ignored the warning from Caroline.

Stiff arse, thought Caroline.

Bessie, where did you learn to speak that language? Sounds like Celtic to me, he sauntered off.

Bessie said nothing. Michael took it as a sign for help. Each time a nightmare began, they found their daughter mouthing words which were totally foreign to them. Perhaps, he could speak to his cousin, Billy, a noted psychiatrist. There might be something Billy could recommend them, a friend or a doctor who could help Bessie come to terms with herself and find ways to fight the horrendous nightmares which were taking over her life. All done quietly of course. Big money paid for much of the incidentals along the way.

Bessie, we are going to find ways to deal with those nightmares. Each time you have a nightmare, you are screaming your head off and I do not want this to continue, added her father when she did not utter a word.

Caroline watched her husband spiral off his complaints rather indiscreetly. She knew he was concerned but she also realized that there was a better way to reach out to Bessie. She was almost a grown up now and she had the right to her private feelings, but the nightmares were continuing in a way that hurt their daughter. Bessie needed some other kind of help, anyone could see that.

She watched her daughter unsurely and then the sight of blood spattered on her daughter’s gown arrested her attention immediately. As she walked closer, she could see fresh streaks of blood lines marking Bessie's lower leg.

Bessie! she pouted out pulling the blanket aside. Let me see that…Michael, look at these wounds! Where did all these wounds come from?

Bessie covered her wounds quickly with the blanket. How did the wounds get there?

I'm fine. Stop fussing okay. I'm fine….don't bug me.

If Michael had in any way disapproved, he decided not to show it now. Instead, he quickly made his way to the bathroom reaching out for hydrogen peroxide, some gauze and Band-Aids. There was something dangerous brewing from all these nightmares. Damn he was so sure of it! He had spoken his peace with Caroline and left her to deal with the matter but now, he would take matters into his own hands. Bessie was hurting herself and it had to stop.

As soon as he sat himself close to his daughter, he reached for her leg and began dressing her wounds. They were not too deep, just skin deep but enough to set off some surface bleeding.

Bessie, you have to be honest with us. How did you get all these wounds darling? he asked a little more kindly.

Bessie was unsure, her mind disoriented. She did not understand how the marks happened. Perhaps, she had scratched herself but when the gown on her left had also caught some twigs and acorns, she realized there was more than just a nightmare at stake. She was living her nightmares and it frightened her terribly but she decided against letting her parents know any further. The last one needed were two prying parents telling you what to do. Quietly, she reached out for the twigs and acorns without her father watching and left them discreetly on the side table close by. At this point, she would rather have them believing she scratched herself than to deal with the bleak possibility that she had transmigrated herself physically into reliving her nightmares. She did not want her parents asking too much. She was already dealing with the reality of her own nightmares and that was more than she could take.

Whatever the reason for the nightmares, Bessie decided that only she could stop them from happening again and again. Each time the nightmare happened, Bessie felt that was a purpose to it and she was determined to let it continue so she could understand the root cause of her troubles and stop the nightmares from coming back again.

I am not sure Dad. Maybe, they were just itchy and I scratched too hard, she said with a smile…an assuring one which she hoped would keep Dad from speculating any further. I will be fine. I promise.

She reached out and pecked a kiss on her father’s head as soon as he had gotten the band-aid on her then turned to her mother Caroline, who looked so serene and peaceful by his side. Mom was always great when it came to dealing with mishaps but Dad? Well, he was something else…

Michael nodded his head from side to side. He disapproved the easy manner in which Bessie discarded the obvious but he’d check with Billy before he pushed his daughter further. Bessie was an individualistic and high spirited girl. She was a daughter he was proud of and the only one they had but he had to be sure she was fine and that the nightmares would stop.

Tell you what…maybe, you should rest Bessie, he urged as he opened her window a little so fresh air could get in.

Want some tea maybe Michael? sounded Caroline wondering if he would take her up on her invite and leave Bessie alone.

Bessie needed the time to herself. That's what everyone needed to have sometimes. Their own time and Michael seemed to have a hard time realizing she was not the little girl anymore.

Yeah, make it piping hot hon. I'll be there…

Got cha…two cups coming up…don't take too long…

Caroline went about to set them some tea. It was already close to five in the morning and she figured they could sit up sipping tea before they began their work day again.

Michael decided to leave. He walked close to the door.

We will give you a shout when it is 7 am. You still have some time to catch some sleep and I will take you to school today for a change…how does that sound princess? he added with a smile. Or do you want to spend a day in just for today?

Nope I'm fine Dad. Anything you say…just make sure I get up at 7 okay? she sounded confidently as she settled into bed, pulling the sheets over. I do not want to miss today's class actually. We are putting some research paper together on Wiccan spirituality.

Wiccan? You mean witches? Isn’t there anything else your teacher could dabble in than witches? he asked.

He wondered why schools these days had to call for so much interest in the unknown. Well, let’s not dwell too much on the dark side, shall we? Not good for anything up here, he persuaded pointing to his head. What about the sciences these days? Why couldn't Bessie do something more fruitful? More worthy perhaps like medicine and the like? That would be a change to have a doctor in the family.

We call them Wiccans Dad. Good witches. 7 sharp. Please do not forget, she persuaded trying to ignore his comment.

She was not sure how much sleep she could catch up on. She was already wide awake but she figured she would just rest in bed for now. She did feel tired sometimes from the lack of sleep. The recent days had been horrendous with the sporadic nightmares tormenting her but somehow, Bessie felt they heralded something more telling, somewhat like a looking window only she did not know what to expect each time she got into one of them. They were so unpredictable.

She intended to find out what the nightmares meant. They had some good Wiccan stores she’d explore and perhaps learn a little about the unknown.

I will see you in a few hours then honey…try and get some sleep okay? reminded her father as he closed the door gently behind him and made his way to the kitchen where Caroline already had a hot kettle brewing the chamomile tea they loved so much.

Hey, you’ve been talking to her too long again…, prodded Caroline as she set the table with the two cups of tea together with a plate of butter cookies. Did she say anything more?

Michael shrugged his shoulders.

She is talking some witch stuff. No wonder she is having these nightmares. Wonder what they teach in school these days? What happened to history and geography? And about the American constitution? And the sciences? You know my mother would have loved seeing her as a doctor one day?

Caroline grinned.

I know that but that’s then. This is now. The world has changed so much Michael. You are supposed to be a management guy, remember? Aren’t you open to new ideas and the like?

Michael grunted and sat down. They were expecting a new client in this morning and he had to be ready to make the