Chapter 163: Ciara
*An ye do no harm; do what ye will. – Wiccan Rede*
Knuckles looked at the old storefront and compared it to what he had expected.
The brick was an orange shade of red and complimented the purple trim around the windows. The writing on the windows was gold and he was amused by the Ouija board that was drawn on one window asking “Should I buy a new book?”
The little triangle thing, he suddenly wondered if it had a name, was pointing to yes.
The window on the other side of the door asked “Do I really need another candle?” The magic 8 ball underneath it had the answer of “Yes – Definitely”
On the door in elegant script was Botanica Wiccan Bookstore, established 2006 Ciara Goode, Proprietess
In both windows were elaborate and beautiful displays of books, candles, crystals, tarot cards and novelties.
Working up his courage, Knuckles got off his bike and walked inside. He had expected the whole place to be dark and broody.
Instead, it was bright and whimsical. The walls were a bright blue with yellow pine shelves. The supports and other displays were custom made by Pagan. Knuckles recognized the work. Plus, his sister owned the store.
“I was wondering when you would come see me.” A woman in a black lace dress was coming down the stairs from the loft. “You’re Knuckles, right?”
“Yes.” He said hesitantly.
She gave a soft laugh. “My brother told me about your conversation. And about last night.”
“That was weird as fuck.”
“I’m sure. I’ve never seen a manifestation like that.” Stopping in front of him, she offered her hand. “I’m Ciara Goode.”
“Knuckles.” He accepted her hand and watched as she turned his hand over.
Just like Nessie would do, she absently ran her fingers over his palm. After a few minutes, she looked down at his hand. Thoughtfully, she traced a few lines.
Once she was done she let go of his right hand and motioned for his left. She went through the same motions again.
“Can I ask a question?” he asked quietly as she looked at his left hand.
“Absolutely.”
“What’s the little triangle thing that is with the Ouija board?”
Throwing her head back, she laughed. “That is *not* what I was expecting. It’s called a planchette.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Ciara dropped his hand and walked over to the front counter.
As he followed her, he saw the flying broom recycling sign hanging on a trash can with a broken broom in it. He couldn’t help but give a little laugh.
“I’ve learned that a good sense of humor will get you through almost anything.” Ciara said as she sat a small stack of books on the corner.
“I like it.” He grinned at the sign declaring that unsupervised children will be given a caffeine potion and small feline familiar.
“I get a lot of people that just want to come in and look around. Some that are actually interested. A few that want to protest and tell me I’m going to hell.”
She shrugged and then pointed at the picture of her at the Hell, Michigan city welcome sign. “They don’t like it when I say I’ve already been there.”
“Hard to go somewhere you don’t believe in.” He mused.
“True statement.” She agreed. “I pulled a few books for you. Don’t feel like you have to all of them. Or even any of them.”
“I appreciate this. I’m not sure what to think about all of this.”
“The woman? The feelings you have? Or the gifts she has?”
Giving her a wry smile, he asked, “Do I have to pick just one?”
“Absolutely not.” Ciara shuffled the books and pulled one out, handing it over. “This one is about ghosts. I also pulled a few about white covens.”
“You’re a grey coven?”
“I’m a gray witch in a dark coven.” She corrected. “The Coven of Light, which I think is the one your girl belongs to, practices in accordance to the sun. Beginnings in the growing light. Endings in the fading light.”
“I am Coven of Dark. We are ruled by the night. We thrive in the darkness of the new moon. Every twenty-eight days, the gods sleep. We are watched by none. Guided only by the Rede.”
“To harm no one.”
“Yes. I will not curse anyone.”
“Because it comes back to you.”
“Threefold. We often call it the power of three. Another term is karma. What you put out, you get back.”
“Makes sense.”
“A word of advice, don’t refer to her as being a pagan. Pagan simply means not the common religion of the area. And occult, because I get asked a lot, means the unknown. Most of the world’s religions encourage you to ask questions. Gain knowledge and experiences.”
They both looked over at the door as the bells jingled above it. An older gentleman wearing slacks, polo and a yarmulke skull cap entered. The man and Ciara spoke briefly in a language that Knuckles did not know.
“Sorry, Rabi, this is my brother’s friend, Knuckles. And this is my lunch date today, Rabi Ibrahim Kravitz.”
Knuckles shook the outstretched hand. “Ciara, I’ll take them all and let you go to lunch.”
“Are you sure?” she asked as she wrote her phone number on the back of a business card.
“Yes. I have a friend who’s daughter is always looking for a new book to read. She’ll probably finish them all before I read one.”
“Reading expands the mind.” The Rabi said as Knuckles pulled out his wallet.
“Especially hers. She has chronic insomnia and her doctor recommended reading something boring.” He chuckled. “Turns out, she found the encyclopedia interesting.”
“I just sold my encyclopedia set on the world’s religions. I may still have the one on the occult.”
“I’ll tell Trigg and Sid to come see you.”
“Here,” the man offered Knuckles his book, “it’s not an encyclopedia, but trust me, some of it can put you to sleep.”
“Oh, I couldn’t-.”
“Nonsense. It’s a gift.” He placed the book into bag with the other books.
“Thank you.” Knuckles said as he handed over his card.
The total made him cringe slightly. But when he thought of what Nessie’s reaction would be, he felt no guilt at spending the amount.
