Forest Magic: Rituals of Rock Bay, #3

By M. A. Phillips

Lacey and Cian embrace a new path in life, but fresh mysteries and dangers stalk the forest around their home. The dreams and visions that once guided Lacey have gone silent, and Cian's own intuition blossoms whether he wants it or not. With their abilities transforming, and tragedy at their heels, can Lacey and Cian do what they must to protect their family and Pagan community, even when one of their greatest threats ever comes from within?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing
• Release date: May 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201968403

M. A. Phillips

M. A. Phillips lives in northern NY with her husband, daughter, and three cats. She is a writer, English teacher, and practicing Druid. Some of her short stories have been published in Stone, Root, and Bone magazine. Her debut, River Magic, is an adult magical realism novel featuring a friends to lovers romance, contemporary pagans, and a vengeful mermaid. When she isn't writing, you can find her in the garden, sewing, or enjoying a book with a side of tea. you can read more about her spiritual and creative journey on her blog www.ditzydruid.com or on twitter & Instagram @ditzydruid

Book preview

Chapter One

Lacey

Lacey had a knack for sensing the unknown. Nocturnal visions revealed clues of tomorrow's tricks and treats for her and her loved ones. The same doorways which allowed this knowledge to pass through her mind also granted her an inner ear with which to grasp the speech of the land spirits—who some refer to as fairies.

Trees are merely large plants of varying shape until one learns to identify their features. Once a person can discern a walnut from an oak or a hawthorn from a rowan, they’ll begin seeing them everywhere, even in the dead of winter. Lacey found the same to be true with the land spirits, yet the visions and spirits all slipped away from her one day as if someone flipped a switch.

HAND IN HAND, LACEY strode the familiar riverwalk with her husband, Cian. Late August found Rock Bay more subdued since most college students had returned to classes, and many of the seasonal residents migrated south for the winter. Yet summer held on with its sunny days, birdsong, and flowers.

Lacey paused where she once tumbled into the Saint Lawrence River. Just as the sky dipped down to kiss the horizon, Lacey, too, thirsted for contact. The place remained significant to her personal lore. This was where Cian had finally admitted his feelings and, a year later, proposed; where she had encountered the mermaid who stalked her dreams; where she began to embrace her abilities and deeper calling.

Lately, she heard another call, equally powerful to the siren's. The craving was illogical but pervasive and struck at the most inopportune times to haunt Lacey with doubt. To carry on amidst a pessimistic internal monologue was exhausting. On top of those concerns came a sense of guilt that she wished for too much. Wasn't it enough that she had graduated cum laude and was about to start her first year as a teacher? That she had married her best friend, and they lived together in a cozy, safe home near the river they loved? Wasn't it enough that she was growing as a Druid with her grove and finding time to write? She knew the sensible answer.

It should be. Perhaps I'm greedy to pray for one more blessing.

Each cycle, Lacey’s hopes flourished only for her body to dash them like jetsam against the rocks.

Her dreams, which so often provided veiled guidance, now taunted her or said nothing at all. The vision of the little girl—her future daughter—had not resurfaced. Lacey could recall it but was not deluded enough to mistake it for anything but a fuzzy memory, like a flickering ember against the cold air that came out to dance each night.

The water shimmered with an invitation, so she removed her sandals.

I should have known, Cian said with a smile. He sat beside her with his tackle box and curled his legs into a pretzel. Can't help yourself, can you?

Lacey bumped her shoulder against his. I won't be able to savor it much longer. Look. The leaves on that maple are already changing. Soon it will be September, and I'll be really busy settling into my new classroom.

Cian wrapped an arm around her. I'm just a little surprised after the last time.

She rested against him, closed her eyes, and let her legs hang into the dark waters below. These peaceful moments were a balm against the insecurities gnawing at her. Her husband, though often susceptible to his anxieties, had a calming effect.

A week ago, the Rock Bay Land Trust had hired Cian and Anthony to bring river-themed cookies to a conference. The former had mentioned to the organizer that the region inspired his wife's writing, and she soon found herself accompanying them on a boat to an insular mansion to present a sturgeon poem.

During an intermission, she wandered to the dock with Cian and plunged her toes into the current. I hope that pleased you, she said to the river guardian.

Lacey sat with her husband in stillness until a whisper floated through her mind.

Trust me.

Something stung her right ankle. Lacey jerked and examined the thin, deep cut. What did that?

Cian inspected it. No clue. Maybe there was some driftwood? He squinted into the water.

Lacey frowned. Maybe.

Aside from the usual confusion, no sense of dread bubbled within her. No other voices whispered from the depths. Perhaps it was as simple as Cian suggested, as the mermaid had no reason to scratch her.

She stood and flicked water from her feet. The wound had scabbed over into a straight line like a needle tucked into fabric. I'm going to the restroom.

When she emerged, Rick and Fiona waved at her. Their toddler, Seamus, was with a babysitter tonight, so they could have a quiet dinner before splitting off for fishing or drinks. The women kissed their husbands.

Behave you two! Fiona sang over her shoulder.

Rick never missed an opportunity to tease his wife. I'm not the one going out for booze!

There were some perks to not being pregnant, and going to The Wine Lounge with her friends was one of them. Lacey and Fiona joined Lidia and Jan in a merlot-colored booth and ordered their favorites.

Lidia raised her glass, and her bracelets tinkled merrily. Cheers to the start of your new career, Lace!

She clinked glasses and sipped the sweet red. Closing her eyes, Lacey convinced herself that everything was okay because she got to relish life's indulgences.

What's wrong? Lidia asked, and her bangles clattered against the table as she lowered her goblet of rosé. The liquid was as pink as her hair.

I guess I'm just nervous for the first day of school, Lacey replied with a weak smirk.

You'll be great! Lidia said. I remember it always being super low-key. We looked through our syllabus and just talked about ourselves. It was the third-best day of the year.

What was first and second? Jan asked.

Second place was pajama day, and the last day of school was first, of course!

If you say so. Lacey managed a chuckle. I'm hoping my ice breaker activity isn't completely lame.

Fiona folded the menu. No matter what you do, some kid'll moan about it. You'll never please them all. The most important thing is you're genuine and clear about your expectations from day one.

They spent much of the hour munching on a platter of cheese with crackers as they finished their wine. Mellow jazz from the speakers flowed through surrounding conversations about boating, lazy days on the beach, and the State Fair in Syracuse.

One last hurrah, Lacey said, attempting to focus on the present. Until the next vacation.

Fiona giggled. Already looking forward to November!

On that note, Lidia began.

Uh oh, Lacey chuckled and tapped her nose. Not it!

Oh, come on! Lidia pouted. Don't worry. My idea shouldn't impact your first year of teaching. Not much, anyway. Just hear me out. She set her hands on the table and shut her eyes for a moment to compose herself. A Pagan unity festival right here in Rock Bay. Title pending.

Lacey leaned in her chair. So, what do you want from me? She nibbled her brownie to anchor her thoughts. No impressions came to her; no hints of her place in Lidia’s latest project. The last thing she wanted was to agree to something while buzzed.

For now? Mostly brainstorming and moral support. I'd love to bring this to fruition next year around May Day, so we can have a Maypole! Plenty of time to organize.

You said, 'mostly.' What else do you have in mind? Lacey asked.

A victorious grin wriggled up one cheek. Two things! I'd like your grove to have an informational booth, and I'm looking for presenters.

Fiona finished her slice of cake. I can't speak for the grove without talking to them, but we have a business meeting next weekend. I'll let you know after that.

I'll think about a workshop, Lacey added. Let me get through September before you ask me again. Fiona's better qualified to discuss Druidry than me...

Not true! The priestess put a hand on Lacey's shoulder. "You’re very knowledgeable!

Hey, why not dreams? Jan asked. That's, like, your thing, right?

Lacey's shoulders pinched inward. I guess.

Great thinking! Lidia said, the alcohol adding volume to her voice. I can't tell you how many people come into The Crystal Cauldron wanting to unload their weird-ass dreams. There'd totally be interest.

Lacey stared into her Lambrusco and fretted over her muted dreams. She'd read enough to understand how the brain cycles through REM and non-REM stages of sleep, and that dreaming typically occurred during the first. Surely something was happening in her mind at that time, but whatever it was, she couldn't remember.

The second-to-last passage in her dream journal recorded an odd but very normal-seeming mix of high school memories and fear that she'd be late and inappropriately dressed for homeroom. The final entry recounted a nightmare from a little over a week ago.

Birch trees. Flames. Squirrels. A white dog. Figures in blue hoods. Screams.

In the past, Lacey would have hesitated to lead a presentation, but she'd grown into a woman who listened to her intuition and manifested her desires. She had learned that life often nudged her toward what she needed. The tricky part was determining whether those needs involved generous blessings or hard-learned lessons. With her premonitions concealed, Lacey struggled to say if this pursuit was viable.

Penny for your thoughts? Lidia asked.

Three pairs of eyes watched, expecting an answer.

Okay, Lacey exhaled. She had months to plan, and her workshop needn't involve any more than sharing what she'd attained. Perhaps diving into the subject once more would sharpen her senses and provoke a return after the first-day jitters.

Lidia beamed, and her excitement for the project was worth the commitment alone. She'd always been there for Lacey during poetry readings, breakups, and stress. After leaving The Crystal Cauldron's employ to pursue education, Lacey did what she could to help.

The four left The Wine Lounge together as dusk’s pink-orange veil descended over the village. They parted at the magic shop's stoop with a promise to chat soon. Lidia and Jan’s excited dialog vanished up their stairwell, and Lacey and Fiona continued at a leisurely pace toward the riverwalk.

Do you feel ready? Fiona asked.

For? Lacey had been spacing out, her head a jumble of next May's mysteries.

The school year, of course! Though I suspect you have something else on your mind.

Lacey glanced toward the flame-tinted slices of river rippling between each building. As ready as I'll ever be. She sighed and met Fiona's unconvinced gaze. But you're right. There is something else. Only...it's pretty intimate.

The men with their fishing poles were silhouettes half a mile ahead.

Well, I can't force you to divulge it, but you know I'm always around if you need me.

Lacey took a deep breath. No, I need to talk to someone. Cian and I...we've been trying to have a baby.

Really? Fiona's voice rose. You'd be good parents.

Thank you...When I had my IUD removed in February, the doctor said we could theoretically conceive within the next month, but it's been a little over six, and nothing. I always had irregular periods before I got on birth control, but I never wondered about the implications until now. With school starting, I'm getting frustrated and worried that something's wrong with me.

A series of emotions ranging from concern to amusement to sisterly affection fluttered over Fiona's face. She threw an arm over Lacey and hugged her as they walked. Oh, Lace. Sometimes it takes months. Rick and I tried for years, plural, before we decided to go to a fertility clinic.

Oh. Lacey swallowed. I had no idea! I guess I am being a little emotional about it.

You're allowed, Fiona said. I remember how defeated I felt.

Lacey nodded. I had flashes of insight. I've seen us with a child...I know we're supposed to have one.

Fiona hummed. All I can say is keep trying, talk to your doctor, and know that having a baby changes everything about your life. Like, seriously. So, for now, don't lose hope! Enjoy each attempt, and be grateful that modern medicine and your cushy new health benefits can help you should you need it.

WHETHER IT WAS THE alcohol or conversation, Lacey settled into her lethargy, and was secretly relieved Cian was equally reticent this evening. From what she gathered, he had only caught small sunfish and a goby, but Rick’s companionship had been enjoyable.

Once home, Lacey washed up and changed into a loose tank top and shorts for bed. Cian stood with her in his green t-shirt and boxers as she said evening prayers and placed fragrant offerings on their mantle altar. Their cats, Fish and Emerald, wove between their legs, reminding the pair to pour gifts in their bowls too.

Upstairs, Cian flopped onto the mattress and spread his arms in welcome. Are we trying? His question morphed into a yawn.

Lacey snuggled beside him and covered her mouth as his contagious fatigue seeped into her. Let's skip tonight. I'm kinda tired.

Me too. He offered a chaste kiss instead. Good night. Love you.

He rolled over and was snoring in no time. Lacey tried to settle into slumber, but her head was a tempest. There were too many uncertainties.

And now my shirt feels strange. I'm never gonna sleep, am I? As she reclined on her back, she tugged the hem, but the pinching sensation around her breasts persisted. Wait.

She touched her soft skin beneath the fabric, but no errant threads or tags lingered. She lightly squeezed herself, and her nipples cried out in protest.

Oh, my gods...Am I...?

Chapter Two

Cian

New York is usually synonymous with the grand city, but ask anyone who has been Upstate, and they'll tell you the region is magical in the fall. The transformation was underway in September as Cian maneuvered a boat to the dock. As one of the crew hopped off and secured them with a knot, Cian paused to admire the progress of the deciduous trees shifting from shades of green to cozy yellow, orange, and red. Though the Autumn Equinox was a week away, nobody could argue that the season was upon them.

This time of year made him nostalgic since he first met Lacey one sunny September weekend on an Adventure Club outing. Today also happened to be his birthday. The occasion had meant more to him as a child. Back then, his parents had invited all the boys in class over for cake, ice cream, and some goofy party games. The tradition came to an end after his eighth year since Mom and Dad couldn't take that many other kids thumping through the house. Cian hadn't minded too much as he preferred the small fishing outings that replaced those parties. Dad had said he could invite one or two buddies, so Henry, and eventually Mark, tagged along. Those were happy days before the three boys grew into teenagers with opinions and interests that only provoked annoyance in Dad. One year, he had simply handed Cian fifty bucks and told him to do something with his pals.

As the years went by, Cian became hyper-aware of Ryan O'Connor's opinion of his friends. He decided his father's example taught him how not to behave. His grandfather had been so different; always warm as his kitchen.

Having shoved some equipment in his truck bed, Cian headed back to the fishery in Rock Bay. As he drove, the colorful tree line rose and fell at irregular intervals, curving with the land, occasionally parting to reveal glimpses of the Saint Lawrence River. In a matter of months, the meandering, liquid ribbon would freeze over.

Adulthood delivered newfound happiness and comfort to Cian. He hadn't felt such joy in years, and yet new anxiety and a unique sense of inadequacy dug into him like a neighbor’s dog tunneling under a fence. Autumn unfurled with its promise of transmutation. He spotted a V of Canada geese pumping across the sky toward warmer climates. His job involved closely observing animal behaviors, and their innate knowledge of the seasons fascinated him. He wondered if Lacey's intuition tapped into the same primal knowing.

When the fish return to their spawning grounds, are any of them disappointed? With the way my father raised me, maybe it's better this way... He sighed and drummed the steering wheel, angry at the course of his thoughts.

Upon reaching his destination, Cian slipped from the driver's seat and took a swig from his thermos. The herbal tea was lukewarm from sitting in his vehicle for several hours, and it quenched his thirst, though he wasn't sold on the taste. The blend of ginkgo, ginseng, and other herbs was supposed to promote male fertility, but Cian maintained his skepticism.

A police SUV marked for environmental protection pulled up alongside him, and the window whirred down. There's the birthday boy! Carl called.

His partner, a brown-skinned woman named Trish, waved without enthusiasm from the passenger seat.

Hey. Cian shut his door. How're things?

Slow day, Carl said. Just checking ‘round campsites as people clean up. At least it's gorgeous out, right Trish? Anyway, glad I caught you. Listen, I convinced one of my old college friends to move up here. He's from downstate but looking for a fresh start. Plus, he’s Pagan like you! Would you be up for drinks sometime?

Yeah, fine...Um, not this weekend, though. I've got plans with Lacey. I'll be in touch.

Carl wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. I bet you do! Happy birthday, my man!

On Friday nights, Cian went to his family's restaurant after work, but he was anxious to return home and see Lacey. It had been a long day and, even though they weren't planning to celebrate his twenty-sixth year until tomorrow, he wanted to curl up beside her reassuring coziness. A few dozen leaf-shaped shortbread cookies stood between him and his goal.

Happy birthday little brother, Margaret sang as Cian entered the kitchen.

Eager to escape the fryer, Anthony had already prepped their workstation. Now that he and Margaret were engaged, Cian suspected his future brother-in-law would snatch a position more to his liking very soon. No matter what, they baked together most Friday evenings, and Anthony started contributing more to the recipes, adding his unique sense of flavor to Cian's artistry.

Once he placed the vanilla batch in the oven, he asked, Shall we make the chai or matcha next?

Whatever you want. Cian groaned and cleaned the flat beater. Margaret! he called, since orders are increasing, we should get another mixer.

She shrugged. You're the one who keeps accepting them. Saving for anything in particular?

He thought back to his conversation with Rick on the riverwalk. Cian had admitted to concerns with his virility, and Rick confided that he and Fiona had gone to a fertility clinic. Apparently, some of it was expensive, even with health insurance.

Not really, Cian said and snapped the accessory into position.

Dad rumbled over to them. Would you believe this? He flapped a paper at his children. We aren't fully retired yet, and your mother has already booked us a cruise. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I told her we'd look at the budget, but no. Went right ahead!

Relax, Dad, Margaret said as she slid knives into their block. Mom's wanted to go forever, and you yourself showed me the books. As long as you don't do this more than once a year, you'll be fine.

The older man flung his arms in resignation. I get it, but you never know what's coming. You need a cushion!

Perhaps it was only the autumnal shift from growth to decay, but bony fingers squeezed at Cian's heart. A distant whine, like that of a tea kettle, swooped through his mind then vanished.

Margaret chuckled and shook her head. Go home for the night, Dad. Have a beer and chill. I'll close up. Once he was gone, she grumbled, I can’t tell if he’s more or less cantankerous since announcing his retirement.

By the time Cian exited the restaurant, shadows obscured the foliage. He waited with Anthony while Margaret put money into a safe. The other man leaned against the brick, his dark hair and eyes blending with the twilight. A couple of years ago, Cian had balked at the idea of Anthony as a big brother, but they'd bonded over brushes with the supernatural, mutual love for Lacey and Margaret, and cooking.

Um, can I ask you something personal?

Anthony bobbed his shoulders. Sure.

Okay, um...do you and Margaret ever talk about having kids?

Anthony cringed. You mean aside from when your parents bug us about it?

Sorry. Cian understood too well. I'm not asking to pressure you, I'm just—

No, I understand. So...we haven't talked much about it. Margaret isn't in any hurry, that's for sure. While I miss seeing my nephew, I often wonder if our lifestyle and running O'Connor's will be conducive to it. We're accustomed to our limited freedom. I don't know how Peggy and Ryan did it.

Cian bristled in the dark. In his younger years, he’d been left to his own devices or under his grandparents' supervision. When his mother was around, she smothered him, and he assumed it was her way of making up for everything.

And Dad...

We’re just not sure right now, but I guess I’m open-minded, Anthony continued.

I've been wondering, Cian started. He worried he was about to expose too much, but his words, so often bumbling over themselves in his throat, came out unbidden. I worry I wouldn't be a good father anyway.

Anthony focused on him as if he'd barked like a dog. Why would you worry about that?

A part of Cian wanted to hide, but he'd already started. My father isn't the best role model.

Anthony scoffed. So, you think having a good father is the key to being one? You remember mine died when I was eight, right? Will I also have a deficiency?

Uh, no! I mean...

Margaret opened the door, causing both men to straighten from the wall. What's got you two so jumpy? she asked.

Cian shot Anthony a warning expression. Nothing. Just talking about our childhoods.

Sorry to cut your little wallow session short, but I'm pooped and need a shower. She strutted past them.

For what it's worth, Anthony said so only Cian could hear, If you can forge your own path with a career and religion, you can figure out parenthood, too.

THE ENGINE SILENCED, and Cian stretched in the car seat. If it weren't for the peace of sleeping beside his wife, he'd be tempted to pass out in his Ford.

A rainbow birthday banner greeted Cian on the porch. He smiled to himself and went to unlock the door, but Lacey beat him, beaming with a shocking amount of energy for someone who'd been up since five in the morning, then taught a bunch of surly teens all day. Cian braced himself as she bounded into his arms.

Happy birthday! she cried as vibrant as her sign. How are you? Did you have a nice day?

He folded around her and kissed her forehead. It was fine. Long. I'm glad to be home. Thanks for the decoration.

The stars in Lacey’s eyes rivaled their celestial cousins as she fidgeted with her blue and green dress. Her fawn-colored hair, normally up in a messy bun this time of day, had been brushed out.

You look fancy.

Well...it's your birthday! I wanted to look nice for you.

He hugged her again. You're always beautiful.

The way she gripped him, as if they were new lovers, aroused his curiosity. Lacey stepped back and resumed her bashful behavior.

You're acting strange, he said, his fatigue chipping away at his tact.

Lacey deflated slightly. I'm sorry...I have something for you.

He crouched to remove his shoes. I thought we agreed to celebrate tomorrow? Not that I don't appreciate everything. He threw his soiled footwear into the laundry room and inhaled the chocolate perfume drifting from the kitchen. Did you make me a cake?

Her smile widened. I did!

Really? You're amazing. When did you have the time?

She pouted and stared at the floor. Just a box mix, don't get too excited.

I don't mind. He cocked his head and found himself waking up from intrigue alone. Though it is a bit late for eating cake, don't you think?

Such a Virgo, she tittered, confusing him. We can eat it tomorrow, but will you at least see it?

Between his eagerness and Lacey's insistence, he'd never rest until he saw this dessert. Compared to the sense of dread from earlier, this entertainment produced a bubbling in his abdomen. This was more than a mere cake. Lead the way.

When he reached the kitchen, he found she'd wrapped the pastry box.

Don't worry, she said. It cooled before frosting and wrapping. I made it as soon as I got home, so I had plenty of time. I learned from the best! Go on. Open it.

Of all the gifts she could have prepared, he never thought she'd be so giddy about a boxed mix. He loosened the ribbon, feeling each tug of significance. She never removed her eyes from him, and a rush of electricity emanated from her once he peeled away the plaid paper to find one of his cake boxes.

O'CONNOR

He blinked at their surname and the little happy faces she'd drawn in the Os. She'd labeled them: Cian, Lacey, and ?

Words caught in his breath, and Cian looked up from the box. Hands clasped over her Brigid cross pendant, Lacey smiled as she had on their wedding day.

Finally, the oxygen reached him. Lacey, are you— He lifted the lid and brought a hand to his mouth.

There were the most beautiful, sloppily frosted words he'd ever seen.

I'm pregnant.

Chapter Three

Lacey

Two Weeks Ago:

On the first day of school, Lacey ended each class with a lighthearted round of 'two truths and a lie.’ She even wrote a unique set herself for every class to scrutinize. Her students were intrigued to learn that she went to the same high school, loved anime, disliked coffee, and had been Mr. Stanley's pupil. Before dismissal, she took questions about herself or the English course.

Every group asked, Do you have any kids?

After work, she stopped at the drugstore for a pregnancy test. Though her breasts continued to ache, she kept it from Cian out of cautious uncertainty. Her dreams remained silent, but she hoped what she experienced truly matched the symptoms she found online. If she were mistaken, she would shoulder that letdown