Tuesday Tales: From the Word Smoke

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. We survived the polar vortex with its temperatures of -40 and are back within the normal range today. I’ll be happy not to have any other really cold days this winter. Toay it’s 27F and the sun is shining. I can live with that.

This week, out prompt word is SMOKE. I’m using SMOKY, a variation of the word and I’m continuing with Atonement.

“You don’t have to bother. I have one of Aunt Selma’s amulets which I’m sure will do the trick.” She pulled the amulet out of her pocket. “Unfortunately, the clasp broke last night, and it hit the stone floor in The Taproom. I was going to ask Colby if he could fix it. I’d hate to discover that I’d ruined it.”

Roberta’s eyes opened wide. “Where did you get that?”

“Walt gave it to me last night. He said it was Aunt Selma’s. They had to remove it for the surgery.”

Horror filled Roberta’s eyes, and her cheeks turned a vivid shade of red.

“There’s no way that belongs to Selma, and even if it did, she would never want you to have it. Look at it. Really look at it.”

Anca turned the amulet over in her hand and gasped.

“Oh my God! What’s happened to it? It’s all black and smoky. Is this because it dropped onto the floor when the chain broke last evening. When Walt gave it to me, it was a beautiful, colorful tree of life sheltered under glass.”

“That’s because it’s evil has been released. It must have been glamoured for you not to see its ugliness. How did you drop it?”

“The clasp broke when … when I was dancing with Walt,” she parried. “I thought I heard Hester speak to me.”

“What did she say?”

Anca forced her mind back. “Cheap spells won’t keep me away.”

Roberta nodded. “She’s the one who destroyed it. Know this. Selma would never wear or give you anything made of cheap metal designed to look like iron. This is a synthetic, a poor imitation. There’s no way Selma was wearing this. Iron is a witch’s mainstay. It’s all around us, a gift from the Goddess. It’s stable, protective, inconspicuous, inexpensive, ancient, practical, and enduring, but only those of us who serve the Goddess know how to use it. Whoever gave this to Walt knows you’re a couple now and may have hoped to drive a wedge between you. They’ve tried to block your magic, but you are far stronger than they suspect, especially if Hester could still communicate with you while you wore it. There’s only one explanation. We have a spy in our midst.”

“Or six. It could easily be any of those men. They were around when she spoke to me. I must’ve reacted and given myself away.” Or maybe the person who’d been hiding down in The Taproom had heard her arguing with Hester.

That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.