“Here,” he took my hands in his and brought them closer to the air blower. A tingly warm rush overcame me, but some time would pass before the healthy pink returned to my blue lips. I rubbed my shoulders to try and regain some warmth.
“Thank you,” I said, brushing wet hair out of my face.
“What were you doing in the river?” Damien asked.
“I… wanted a swim?”
“In the middle of September? You could have hurt yourself.”
“I know, thank you, seriously. I think you just saved my life.”
“Great way to meet, I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“I will be. Shit, I missed class.”
“Class finished an hour ago.”
“Seriously?” I swallowed hard. Talk about lost time.
Damien started the car. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen what you’re reading in class. You’re way ahead already.”
I realized then I had been gripping something in my hand. My knuckles were white from the strength of my grip. My fist unclenched to reveal a bracelet made of semi-precious gems looped around my hand. Amethyst, amber, and rose quartz stones had been carefully threaded through a tough black throng. Amazingly the wristlet hadn’t ripped coming out of the riverbed.
Damien drove us out of the parking lot and into the street.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To get warm; fuck class today.”
The car’s interior stank of river water and mud. I would have blushed if I hadn’t been so damn cold. “I’m so sorry,” I said, “I got mud in your car.”
“Don’t worry about it, okay? I just want to help.”
“Even weirdoes like me who dive into cold rivers for no apparent reason?”
“I wouldn’t call you a weirdo.”
“What would you call me, then?”
“Can I use two words?”
“Go ahead.”
“I’d call you pretty, and also eccentric.”
My cheeks flushed now. I gave Damien my address and helped him navigate the streets. It was clear now that he wasn’t from around here, but with me as a navigator getting to my place didn’t take us long. Raven’s Glen is a small, rural town where folks don’t usually need cars to get from A to B—although most families still owned two each.
Excessive, if you ask me, but who am I to judge?
Damien stopped the car in my driveway and glanced at me. “This is your stop,” he said.
I didn’t want to leave the comfort of his jacket or his car. I had to repay him. “Come inside?” I asked.
Damien shook his head. “I couldn’t.”
“Please? I have towels and stuff you can use. I’ll make you something warm to drink.”
The car grumbled and shut up. Damien nodded, and I beamed on the inside. And maybe on the outside too.
I couldn’t tell.
CHAPTER SIX
Without waiting another cold, damp moment, I grabbed a quick change of clothes from my bedroom and lead Damien into the attic. We left wet footprints all over the floors but I didn’t much care. I had tracked mud all over his car, after all.
When we got to the attic I opened one of the many chests lining the outside edges of the room and handed Damien a bunch of clothes. I wasn’t about to leave him cold and waiting while I changed into something warm. Besides, I had a dryer. His clothes would dry in no time.
“Here,” I said, “These are my dad’s clothes. I think some of them will fit you.”
I dashed to the stairs leading down from the attic and pulled Damien along with me before he could protest. “There’s a bathroom down the hall,” I continued, “Get changed, warm up, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Damien did as I asked and got changed a few doors down from me. The thought of having him in my house, naked, helped me warm up. Amber Lee, calm the hell down. But I had to push it out of my mind. I didn’t know anything about this guy besides some kind of dreamy, awkward, knight?
We met downstairs once we had gotten changed and I threw our clothes into the drier before heading into the kitchen. Damien waited, sitting at my kitchen table, while I prepared two cups of steaming hot chocolate. Perfect drinks for the occasion.
While he waited, Damien shuffled uncomfortably on the chair. He was like a fish out of water, completely out of his element in my dad’s rainbow colored Miami palm tree shirt and acid wash jeans. I realized now why my dad buried them in the attic and wondered how he ever managed to snag my mom wearing those.
“I think it suits you,” I said.
“You know,” said Damien, examining himself. He stood and twirled around. “I could get into this look. What do you think?”
“I think you should stick to black. Black is hot.” I immediately regretted those words, but taking them back would’ve just made things awkward.
When the drinks were ready I set them down on the table, took my cup in my hand, and let the feather of steam warm my nose.
“I’m glad you found me,” I said, “I’m not used to being a damsel in distress.”
“I know that much about you,” he said.
“Could you?”
“You have an independent demeanor. You like being alone, I take it?”
“That obvious?” I asked, throwing him a grin from across the table.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you speak to anyone other than a professor all week.”
“And somehow my efforts are thwarted by a meddling young man who can’t take a hint,” I joked. Damien’s smile lit up the room, his hazel eyes glinting in the ambient light coming in through the kitchen window.
“So,” Damien said, “Are you going to tell me why you went swimming in the river? People don’t just go for swims mid-morning in freezing cold temperatures.”
“Have you ever been to Russia?” I asked.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You’d take that back if you ever met Ivanov. He was my Russian guide when I went to Moscow. They do this thing where they carve holes in lakes—you know, because they freeze over in the winter—and they go and have dips in the water beneath the ice.”
“That’s insane.”
“Well, the water in the makeshift pool is warmer than the ice and the surface. It’s like a hot spring. He had to strong-arm me into doing it, but I didn’t regret it. You should try it.”
I was obviously deflecting, doing my very best to avoid Damien’s question, but it didn’t work. He fell silent and sipped his hot chocolate. “This isn’t Russia, though,” he said.
I sighed. “You’ll think I’m weird if I told you why I did it.”
“I’ve already said it once today; I don’t think you’re weird.”
“No, but you’ll think it after I tell you this. I promise.”
“Okay, so how about you just tell me and let me decide whether you’re weird or not?”
I narrowed my eyes into slits, sighed, and said “Something strange happened to me. First this Raven cawed at me, almost as if the bird was trying to get my attention. So when the bird fluttered off I went after it and wound up at the riverbank. Then it’s as if something grabbed hold of my chest and squeezed so tightly that I couldn’t breathe, like a panic attack.” By the concerned look in his eyes I knew I had Damien’s attention, although I’m sure I sounded like a mad woman. “Next thing I knew,” I continued, “I was in the water pulling something from out of the mud, and then you pulled me out.”
“What did you grab?” he asked.
“A bracelet,” I said.
“Can I see it?”
I nodded and produced the bracelet from my pocket. Damien took it, and his face turned a deathly white.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Damien said. He sighed, though it sounded more like a half-choke. “Listen, you don’t look too hot right now.”
“Thanks.”
“No, I mean, you’re tired. You’ve just been through hell. I should probably get out of your hair.”
He practically thrust the bracelet back into my hand.
“You’re leaving?” I asked.”
“I probably should.” Damien stood.
I didn’t want to fight, but he was right. A yawn escaped my mouth. “Yeah… sorry, I’m actually exhausted. I didn’t feel it until you mentioned it.”
Damien nodded. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, though. I’ll see you in class, rest up okay?”
With every step Damien took towards the door my eyelids felt heavier. I heard him get into his car and pull out of the drive. By then my body was a weary mess. I wanted my bed, screw having a shower. White feather pillows embraced my head lovingly as I hit the bed. Moments, and I drifted into a dreamless sleep.
I didn’t realize until I woke up much later that Damien hadn’t taken his clothes with him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I had been down for three hours. By the time I woke up there wasn’t much left for me to do, so Eliza kept me company online. We hadn’t properly spoken since I started class and only saw each other in the crossover during lunch at the bookshop. She’d then go home for the day and I’d stay behind to cover the afternoon shift. It was enjoyable to catch up and tell her how things were going, although I omitted any mention of Damien and my strange experience at the river. I had nothing to say which didn’t make me sound like I had a screw loose.
Leaving the house the next morning in a red and black tartan skirt, a black sweater and my muddy Doctor Martens, I didn’t feel as rough as I thought it would have. Playing with the stones on the bracelet I found in the river kept the memory of the event fresh enough to write them down in my dream diary, even though my mid-morning dip wasn’t an actual dream. I hadn’t seen Damien all day, and without his clear eyes to distract me my mind found no reprieve from what happened on the banks of the Geordie.
After class, in the shadow of what I’d decided was to be my Sycamore tree, I swallowed several chapters on the religious traditions of Ancient Sumerian tribes while the world passed me by. But the words on the page slipped from my mind, and retaining information was about as difficult as trying to catch a trout with one’s bare hands. Still, my keen interest in the subject matter spurred me on. I’d never known much about ancient humans, at least not in a theological sense, but this fascinated me enough to urge me into turning another page.
Until rustling grass alerted me to a presence fast approaching.
My stomach churned as I expected an awkward conversation with a random, so I raised my book further and hid behind the cover.
“Hey,” said the tall shadow.
That voice is familiar. I looked up to see Damien’s dark silhouette breaking the sun’s light. “Hi,” I said.
Damien smiled. “Mind if I join you?”
I nodded and cleared a space for him in front of me.
He set his backpack down next to mine and sat on the grass. Denim jeans, Nine Inch Nails on his shirt, black leather jacket and a pair of Doctor Martens. The mud on the soles of his shoes had dried up like mine. I wondered if his still smelt like the river, too.
“About yesterday,” he said.
“Don’t mention it. You were right, I needed the rest.”
Damien smiled, though there was something knowing about his smile.
“How was going home in a rainbow colored shirt?” I joked.
“Oh, right, that—”
“Don’t worry, your clothes are safe and sound. Dry, last I checked.”
“Thanks.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t have to do much. Only, I slept like a log, so they may have shrunk.”
“Serious?”
I flashed a grin. “Another joke!” I said, smiling. “Did you take a serious pill this morning?”
Damien seemed to be a little on edge, and when he didn’t laugh at my joke my body flushed hot and cold in the same instant. Was something wrong? I didn’t know him well enough yet to make that observation but he’d always shown me a cool front. Still. I wondered.
“Look, can I be totally honest with you about something?” he asked.
I brushed stray copper strands of hair out of my face. “Sure, what is it?”
Damien paused, as if he had lost his trail of thought. “You’re wearing the bracelet?” he asked. The charms distracted him. I didn’t think that’s where his line of inquiry was headed.
“Yeah,” I said, “Why do you ask?”
“Nothing, it just caught my attention.” I was sure that was a lie but I didn’t question it. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Yesterday, at the river, you felt something didn’t you?”
“Yeah, like, I felt compelled. Like I had to be there, I had to dive into the river and pull this bracelet out of the water. I have no idea who it belongs to, but I’m thinking she could’ve been Wiccan.”
“A Wiccan? What makes you say that?”
“These stones are amber, amethyst, and rose quartz. They’re semi-precious, but they’ve got symbolic meanings. The amber and the amethyst help with emotional healing and getting rid of negative emotions and the rose quartz helps to balance someone out, especially if they’ve just gone through some emotional stress. I have a feeling the person who made this was dealing with some issues.”
Damien stared off into the tree line down the hill.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Did it freak you out?” he asked, facing me again.
“I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire life. It still freaks me out.”
“You’re Wiccan, though, right?”
I nodded, proudly. There are more shocking religions in the world to associate with. Being Wiccan wasn’t out of the ordinary anymore, but admitting it to someone not of the Craft was risky; religious people were judgmental dicks in this day and age.
“I noticed the Triquetra around your neck and… you used the word Mabon in your notebook,” said Damien.
“So you know what a Triquetra is?” I asked, “More importantly, you recognized Mabon?”
Damien nodded. “The pendant is also called the trinity knot. Christians use it to represent the trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I may have thought you Christian, but when I saw Mabon in your book—and the many pentagrams you enjoy drawing—I knew you were Wiccan.”
“You’ve basically been spying on me,” I joked.
“You sit next to me. It’s difficult not to notice what you’re doing.”
He found me interesting enough to notice, and not in a bad way. Beaming again.
“And what religion do you hail to, if you don’t mind my asking?” I asked, resuming the conversation which had fallen into a silent but comfortable lull.
Damien smiled. “I’m Wiccan too.”
My eyebrow involuntarily arched. “Is that true?”
“Bide the Wiccan Law ye must, in perfect love, in perfect trust.”
My lips curled into a grin. “Go on,” I said, testing him.
“Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: and ye harm none, do what ye will. What ye sends forth comes back to thee, and ever mind the rule of three—”
“Follow this with mind and heart, and merry ye meet and merry ye part.” I felt obliged to finish the creed with him, our voices speaking in unison. “I’ve never met a non-Wiccan who knows our creed, so you must be the real deal.”
“I’m not surprised. It’s pretty long.”
My heart revved into a steady but heavy lub-dub. The words Damien so perfectly said formed the Wiccan’s code of ethics. The creed can easily be found online, but the ability to call it on cue meant Damien was legit.
“So if you’re Wiccan too, where’s your Coven?” I asked.
Damien shook his head. “I don’t have a Coven right now, not here. To be honest I hadn’t thought about needing one before moving out here. I’m happy to do my own thing when I have to.”
“But that’s no fun, and it isn’t as the Goddess intended.”
He smiled again. “You couldn’t have said it better.”
“Why d
on’t you come round and meet my friend Eliza tonight? I have this bookstore on Rosella; we’ll all probably be there. You can meet them, maybe even join us?”
“You’re sure you and your friend would be okay with that?”
“She’ll be fine with it—just come hang out with us.”
“Alright,” he said, brushing one side of his hair over his ear.
“It’s the least I can do. Just promise me you won’t run off again,” I said, smirking.
Damien nodded and stood with a smile on his face. He seemed a little more relaxed, but he couldn’t fix his eyes on my face for some reason. Maybe he was just awkward like that; awkward like me. I stood with him and collected my things.
“I have to go,” Damien said, “But I’ll come to the bookshop tonight. Is six okay?”
“Six is fine,” I said, smiling.
He disappeared down the stony path and into the mess of students who had also stuck around after class, chatting and laughing. What an enigma. Those hazel eyes of his could draw you in, refuse to let you leave, and even make you believe it was your idea to fall into them in the first place.
But I still wasn’t convinced: was he honey or quicksand?
CHAPTER EIGHT
The long stroll from Raven’s Hall to the center of town by way of Briar Park had become my favorite walk. Raven’s Hall consumed more than a third of the park grounds, the rest of it was littered with benches, winding pathways, and small ponds full of aquatic wildlife. Going far enough into the park would take one to the banks of the Geordie. In the summer folks from all over would come in droves for a dip, but the summer was winding down now and the park had been reclaimed by its rightful rulers: lovers clad in warm clothes.
Back at the bookstore I met up with Eliza. She was a saint for taking on the responsibility all on her own. I needed to repay her somehow but I wasn’t sure how yet, so I convinced her to spend the afternoon at the shop with me so that we could spend some quality time.
“What are you going to do when I have the baby?” Eliza asked.
We were taking care of the main window display. She would hand me this week’s hottest sales from out of a box and I’d place them on the display window. The job required more stretching than I would’ve liked to impose on her pregnant body so I had told her to leave it until I got in.