Sablewood Calls

I had once loved Sablewood. The line of live oaks and their branches waved you in, beautiful and tall. I walked slowly towards the giant manor, and admired the way the statues in the front garden managed to look both ancient and modern, as though someone had plucked their stone faces from the past for us to enjoy in the present. Sablewood Manor had an ethereal beauty that you couldn’t help but appreciate. If only I didn’t see my dead sister leaning against the columns on the porch. She had appeared almost the moment I parked, and had been watching me since I got out of my truck.

Standing outside, I observed Sablewood Manor, its muddy columns and vast windows a sharp reminder of my childhood. The patchwork of brick and wood hinted at its labyrinthine interior, though it still held true to its grand, antebellum style. The tall oaks that were here long before my ancestors took over this land, and the mass of trees had been steadily encroaching on Sablewood Manor since it was built. Even several years past its prime, it was still beautiful. It was too large, too present than any house ought to be, but those were traits one might overlook. I didn’t overlook anything about Sablewood.

I rubbed my gloved hands together. Its windows were giant and almost welcoming, and the large front door of the manor held a masterfully crafted stained glass depiction of a red cypress tree surrounded by a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, and browns. Many thought Sablewood was the seat of the Dupont line’s power, but I knew the truth. Sablewood was our past, present, and future. It was the source of not just our magic, but the magic of the Louisiana territories.

I ignored my sister’s body standing on the porch, and walked in the front door. Knowing Sablewood, I would see her again soon.Sablewood had plagued my dreams with visions of her death for days. I stomped the mud off my boots, and followed the sound of my grandmother’s voice.

“I am aware of the flood…yes, the farmlands too… I…Well, yes, of course I understand how the magic works! My family has been in covenant with Sablewood for hundreds of years! Guardian and land, bonded together in exchange for fortune and harvest…No, sir. Yes, I understand. No, we do not require assistance at this time.”

As she talked, I remembered my lessons about the covenant from my mother.

“It is an ancient magic, Ruby. It demands a guardian’s strength to harness its power. Without us, it’s like a wild horse without reins—beautiful but capable of untold destruction. For a Dupont witch, there is nothing more sacred.”

I took a deep breath to clear my mind. I just couldn’t seem to shake the ghosts today. I leaned against the doorway of the office, waiting for Colette to notice me. An enormous orange cat sat on the desk, ignoring me completely.

My grandmother paced behind the desk.

Colette Dupont, once a figure of elegance, now seemed diminished. Her time as guardian had passed, and now she stood in her office, hair limp, and clothes disheveled. She had survived both her daughter and her granddaughters death. In another life, perhaps she would have been glad to see me.

Instead, she saw me at the door, froze for a moment and frowned. Then, without giving me another glance, she walked into next room to finish her call. Well, no one had ever accused Colette of being too warm and welcoming. I walked to her desk, picked up the bottle my grandmother had obviously been drinking generously from, and poured myself a drink. The cat woke up as I set the bottle next to him.

“Hi Couscous,” I whispered. Couscous did not bother to respond. He had been my sister’s cat, and I wondered if he realized she was gone. I picked him up, and held him close as I waited for my grandmother.

Colette would be back. She needed me, whether she was ready to acknowledge it or not. When I turned around from the desk, Amélie’s corpse was sitting on the couch. She was giving me a tight, haunted smile that would never appear on someone alive.

I wondered if Sablewood realized it was hurting me by appearing as my sister. I never could tell how much the magic of the house understood. Sometimes, Sablewood seemed like an actual person. There had been times when I was a girl that Sablewood had been kind to me, in its own way. Sablewood knew why I was here, and perhaps it thought to comfort me with my sister’s face. More likely, it was in a mischievous mood and wanted to play. I knew how to play. Colette made sure of that. I ignored the ghost and kept petting Couscous.

Colette walked back in, phone still in her hand.

“Ruby, what a surprise.” Her eyebrows rose as she took in me and the cat.

“Is it?” I stared her down. I should have expected this approach. She did not flinch or fidget under my stare, as I knew she wouldn’t.

“State your intentions, girl. I am a busy woman, and I do not presently have time for social calls.”

I kept down a snort. Social calls. Half of Louisiana was under water, we had lost acres and acres of farmland to blight, and that was just in the past few days.

“You know why I’m here. Sablewood called, and I came. I know that Amélie is dead.” Colette flinched slightly when I said Amélie’s name.

“Sablewood called? " She outright laughed at me.

“Do you truly expect me to believe that Sablewood would expend its magic to speak to speak to you?” She scoffed. Well, good to know things hadn’t changed in fifteen years. To Colette, I was simply a reminder that her beloved daughter would stoop so low as to have a child outside her marriage. She had hated me from the moment I was born. I rolled my eyes.

“I was called, and I know better than to ignore Sablewood’s magic. A guardian must connect with this territory, and soon, or we risk losing even more land to a blight! Even the mortals are noticing that this goes beyond mere climate change. Put aside your pride, old woman!” Amelie’s cat, sensing an argument, jumped from my arms and slipped out of the room. Smart cat.

Colette sneered at me.

“Sablewood did not call you. We are perfectly capable of protecting this territory without a hedgewitch bastard.” I gave her a bored look. Of course she knew I was working as a Hedgewitch. I suppose that it made sense she had kept tabs on me. I hadn’t gone far once she had exiled me from Sablewood. I didn’t technically live in Sablewood’s territory, but I had been close enough, and a gal had to make a living.

“Believe what you want, but I am here. What happened to Amélie?” I said it quickly,pushing the words out. I had imagined coming home so many times, but never like this.

“What happened is none of your business.” Colette didn’t look at me, but I stared at her. She was still so cold, even after all this time.

“She was my sister. I know that she died, Sablewood has made that much clear. How did she die?” I asked it softly.

My sister and I hadn’t spoken for 15 years. An exiled witch is not allowed to communicate with her coven. It is a rule that is not broken. She reached out once, urging patience until Colette’s influence waned. I had had lashed out so harshly it embarrassed me to remember it. My magic had exploded, almost killing my sister. To Colette, this simply affirmed my banishment. For a long time, I felt like I deserved to be cut off from my family for throwing a magical tantrum. I had always thought I would reconcile with my her one day. I didn’t know we would run out of time.

“No.” Colette’s sharp answer snapped me back into the moment.

“What do you mean, ‘no?’ She was at the age of ascension for a Guardian, she should be taking over for you, you old bat! What happened? Did you do it? Could you not give up the role of Guardian to your own heir? Did you kill her?”

Colette looked ready to throttle me.

I continued anyway, “You may not like it, but I was Amélie’s blood, her only sister, and I demand to know what happened!”

“Demand?” Colette started toward me.

“You insolent child. How dare you! Amélie was a Dupont! A rare, gifted witch chosen by magic and might for a sacred duty. You are nothing. Nothing! A half blood mongrel. Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to, peddling spells to anyone that will pay.” She sniffed disdainfully. “Better to be dead than embarrass our line.”

I blinked. Well. I wondered when she would tell me how she really felt about me.

“Exile wasn’t enough for you, I guess? Colette, what are you doing? My parents are dead, my sister is dead, and I am the only Dupont witch you have left. Let me help.”

“Get. out.” She said it with so much malice that I winced slightly.

I couldn’t believe she was being this infuriatingly stupid. People’s lives were at stake!

“You don’t have a choice anymore, Granny.”

I said it just to piss her off. Colette was no one’s granny. Her face bright red, she raised her hands as if to hex me. Before she could say a word, a force slammed into both of us, blowing us onto our asses. I landed across the room. I jumped up, looking for the threat. In the center of the room stood Amélie. Well, Sablewood as Amélie. She was shaking, obviously angry. She moved towards my grandmother, silent, but no one could miss the air of fury around Sablewood. Sablewood’s hands stretched out towards Colette, who was staring in open mouthed horror at Sablewood in Amélie’s face. Colette flew backwards again, this time against the wall, and appeared held there by invisible bonds. I don’t know what Colette saw in Sablewood/Amélie’s face, but Colette was no longer angry. If anything, she looked shocked. Her glance flicked to me, then back to Sablewood.

“It can’t be,” Colette croaked. Sablewood nodded once again. Colette went to argue again, and her invisible bonds tightened, causing her to cry out.

Sablewood turned towards me, hand outstretched, and I stumbled back. Sablewood had changed appearance once again. It was no longer Amélie in death. Now, it looked as Amélie must have looked in life: vibrant, full of magic. Her face no longer bloodied, her blonde hair tall and curled. I choked. It hurt to see this version of Amélie, the version I would never really know.

It held up its hand, my sister’s hand, and for the first time, I saw the long string of black tattoos that had enveloped Amélie’s hand and arm. The inky black lines were deep and grooved. They looked like the texture of cypress bark. I supposed it was appropriate for a Guardian of the Louisiana territories. The grooves of the mark pulsed slightly on Sablewood’s arm, the lines waving. It was the mark of a Guardian, a tattoo only given to those chosen by a territory’s power to serve. My mother had had this tattoo, and so had my sister. The tattoo was beautiful in its own way, though, I could sense a touch of darkness that felt alien and unfamiliar. I really didn’t want the creepy sentient magic to touch me, but I suspected I didn’t have a choice. Sablewood advanced toward me, a kind and patient look on my face.

“I’m sorry,” I told it, though I wasn’t sure why I said it. I wish I could tell it to Amélie. I wanted her to know I loved her.

Sablewood’s face was pitying, as though it sense my thoughts. It’s hand still raised, it looked at me expectantly.

“Hold up your hand, Ruby,” Colette whispered.

I looked over to her, confused. Colette’s voice was hushed, respectful.

I pushed out a deep breath, then held my palm out to Sablewood, mimicking its pose. I smiled at Sablewood, who still looked at me expectantly. Our hands touched, and I tried not to cry out. It didn’t hurt, exactly. It was like touching a live wire, the magic sharp and clean. The mark slithered off Sablewood and began making its way onto my skin. I squirmed, and tried to move away, but was held by Sablewood’s touch.I felt as though I were suddenly pushed into the magic, thrust into a maelstrom of power.

I fought the magic at first. It was not gentle, and would not be denied. Sablewood’s magic claimed me, mingled with my life force until I could no longer tell where I ended and it began. Sablewood’s territory felt as though it were an extension of myself. I let myself stretch within the power, and the vast, ancient magic began to feel familiar. I felt the field next to Sablewood manor, and could taste the richness of the soil. I let Sablewood feed me Louisiana’s chorus — the rustles of Spanish moss clinging to the trees , the symphony of birdcalls, the gentle vibration of the catfish nestling in mud. I laughed as a small herd of deer jumped and bucked as they sensed me. Squirrels in pecan trees chattered in excitement. Beyond that were the people, and their magic made me want to weep from its radiance. I had always known this place was full of magic, but I could never had comprehended or guessed at this amount of power. Sablewood pulled me into its heart. This was my home and I felt as though I finally saw it for what it was. I spread myself over the land, and sensed roots unseen deep beneath me reach out towards me in welcome. I pushed a small bit of magic towards the land: I am here. I see you. I feel you. I am here. I am here! I let the feeling envelop me. It was joy and exultation. My mind brushed against the wetlands, and I flinched back in pain.

It felt wrong, as if I had run my tongue over my teeth only to find several teeth missing or broken.

What is this… damage? I asked Sablewood. Apparently, spoke words were beyond us. I simply thought at Sablewood and it understood.

Cracks. It responded sadly. Rips. The holes are growing, as does the darkness which waits without the covenant.

Why didn’t you complete the covenant? I asked it carefully. Sablewood did not respond, though I knew it understood me. Instead, the maelstrom slowed, and the magic retreated somewhere quietly inside me. I was still not quite back in my own body, existing somewhere beyond the room in Sablewood with Colette.

What happened to Amélie? Silence.

Please, I begged. It did not give me words, or pictures, or a memory as I expected. Instead, it gave me feelings.

Fear. Resentment. Unwillingness. Despair.

The emotions flashed at me quickly, and I puzzled over what they meant.

She begged to be released. She did not want the covenant. The covenant must be made willingly.

I felt Sablewood’s sorrow, it’s grief for my sister. And with a sudden clarity, I realized that Sablewood was telling me something terrible. Amélie hadn’t been killed by Colette or from some danger in our territories. Amélie had trained all her life as Heir of Sablewood, had begun this ritual, only to discover she did not want the power. The magic, needing willing acceptance to bind, reacted fatally to her rejection.

The covenant was broken before it began. Sablewood’s grief touched me. It had loved my sister, and had not wanted her death. I sobbed. I do not know how long it took me to compose myself. I cried for my sister who had dedicated her life to a task that she did not want. Sablewood’s magic prodded me gently.

Do you accept the covenant? It asked me.

I paused. I owed it to Sablewood, to our people, and to Amélie to fully understand this. Guardianship came with a price—my freedom, my life span, perhaps even my sanity. Guardianship meant putting Sablewood above all, a weight my sister couldn’t bear. I wondered, as the magic settled within me, what it would demand from me in the years to come. I knew there was no other answer for me.

Yes. I accept.

I could feel Sablewood’s relief, and then triumph at my acceptance.

Suddenly, I was back in Sablewood manor. As I opened my eyes, I no longer saw Amélie, though I felt Sablewood and its power in the back of my mind. I looked down, and saw that the Guardian mark was there on my arm, only it was no longer black, but a vibrant, rich red. I raised my arm, and felt a zip of power charge and crackle through the air, as though Sablewood was joyfully announcing my ascension. I smiled. Sablewood loved a bit of dramatics.

At the snap of power, Colette trembled slightly. Colette’s eyes, always so stern, flickered with something I couldn’t quite name.

“So it is to be you,” she whispered, her voice cracked with emotion. I said nothing.

She cleared her throat, “I suppose there are worse choices for Guardian.”

It was not an apology, but it was probably as close as I would get.

I gave her a bland look.

“Well,” I said, “Considering your choices seem to be me or Couscous the cat, I think you got a good deal.”

For a brief moment, the space between us lightened. The shades of our past receded just enough to let a sliver of hope shine through.