Elspeth (Elspeth Book 1)

Book summary

Set in early 18th-century Scotland during the resurgence of witch trials, twelve-year-old Elspeth discovers her heritage as a witch. As fear grips her community, she and her mother journey to the Highlands, guided by ominous visions. Faced with loss and danger, Elspeth must confront her inner and outer battles to reclaim what seems forever lost.

Excerpt from Elspeth

Chapter 1: The Early Years

The year, 1700 …

When I turned 12, my mother sat me down after dinner and told me that I’m different. I’m a witch. A Green Witch.

We were by the hearth, as always after our evenin’ meal. It was there that we’d discuss the day’s events, or Father would tell us wonderful stories. He had such a great imagination. I think that is where I got mine from.

He, Father, sat in his rocker chair, smokin’ his pipe. I loved its smell. Woodsy and a little bit spicy at the same time. I just watched, as smoke floated lazily upward and then poof! Gone. It held magick. The kind of magick that would take all his thoughts from the day, drift them toward the ceilin’, and be lost forever. Then, when the sun rose the next day, everythin’ would be fresh. No mistakes in it.

My mother made a noise, bringin’ me out of my dreams, and back into reality. The darkness of the room called to me. It truly did. Mother started to tell me about our family and all I could think of was how cozy and warm this obscurity felt. Like a warm, woolen blanket. Heavy. Soothin’. It brought comforts and with the flames dancin’ about the hot embers … well, it just made me smile.

“Elspeth, really now. How are ye to learn if yer eyes are shut and yer off in your little world? You must ground yourself and be present at all times. Is that understood?

I nodded and sat up with purpose. I peered over at my father for approval and he winked at me.

It was then that she began once more about being a Green Witch.

“Witch,” I said out loud. It felt wonderful to say. It was the most magickal moment of my life. I said it again and again. Both times with eyes shut so that I could feel the magick seep into my soul. Oh, it was a wondrous thing. I felt all tingly that I started to giggle.

“There ye go again!”

“I’m sorry, but if ye could feel what I feel, ye’d want it to go on forever and ever!”

“Elspeth Ainslie Horne!”

I‘d done it again. Full name means best be quiet, now.

I was about to say somethin’ again, when her hand shot up, silencin’ me.

“Now, there are rules of conduct that we must follow and I mean follow. First, be careful what ye do. Now that ye know ye are a Witch, no one else can know. Just act yerself … let me say that differently ─ blend in. Dinna stand out.

I wasna sure why I couldna be myself. The kind who loved to go out into the woods with my friends and tell stories. They loved my stories! They said they were … magickal.

“I think I understand. But mother, why though?”

“Because people are afraid of things that are different. The unknown. We must act accordingly.”

I didna like being like everyone else. Plain, borin’, and stiff. What was so wrong with being … ?

“Mother, ye always told me to be myself.”

“Aye, but I think from now on, ye be yerself here in our home. Outside … not so much.”

Just then, she touched and caressed my cheek and for a moment she looked sad.

“What is it, mother? Why so sad?”

Father put down his book and looked at her as well. He too looked concerned.

“I’m not sad. Not really. Elspeth, we live in a time ─”

“No more questions. Do as ye are told?” Father said, in a tone that meant no more.

Again, I nodded and listened.

“Secondly, be careful who ye trust. Not even in the woods.”

“The woods?”

“Especially the woods. One day, I’ll take ye to a special place, hidden deep within. Ye mustna take anyone there. It is our secret. Yers and mine. Alright, my love?”

I nodded.

“Good,” and smiled. They are warm, her smiles. It is hard to explain, but it’s like a part of her seeps into me. It also reminds me of when the sun rises, by the river, and its painted beauty is reflected off of the water. Such magick. My mother is magick.

“Elspeth, are ye off in yer world again?”

“Sorry, mother. Go on.”

“Thirdly, do not use the Power to hurt another, for what is sent comes back,” she sighed when she saw my puzzlement, “Ye have a wondrous gift, Elspeth. Here …” and placed her palm on my chest, “It is a gift. It will serve ye well.”

I looked at my father and he nodded in agreement. I didn’t need any explanation for this.

“The next one is the most important Elspeth. Ye mustna use the Power against someone who has the Power, for ye draw from the same well.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I tried to explain to her, what it meant to me.

“I canna use my Power on anyone who is like us because they have the same gift as I and … and …”

“And it could mean great danger to ye if ye should ever.”

“Death?” I asked warily.

“Sometimes. Sometimes it might wound ye grievously. Either way, it’s somethin’ you mustna do ever. Understand?”

“Aye.”

Lastly, and I believe ye already know this one. To use yer Power ye must feel it in your heart and know it in your mind.”

“Oh, aye! I do know this one! I felt it when I called myself a ─ Witch!”

The tinglin’ ensued and found its way up my arms. I giggle for it tickled me. Then, in a most worshipful way, I lifted my arms toward the ceiling and said, “Witch!” It became more intense and I looked to see if I could see the tingles. Nothin’.

I kept it up and started to swirl, slow, and easy. My arms this time out to the sides as I repeated, “Witch!” swirling, “Witch!” Swirlin’, “Witch!”

“Elspeth, enough!”

The tinglin’ stopped right away. Dead. When father told ye do somethin’, ye listened.

“Aye, sir.”

“Off to bed,” Mother chimed in, “I think we both have had enough for one evenin’,” and she looked at Father, “Am I right?”

“Most assuredly. Come.” And motioned for me to hug him.

I ran and hugged him as tight as my arms could, nestlin’ my face in his shirt. He always smelled like his pipe and a bit of the outdoors. I always sniffed him when we hug. It’s my way of making a memory.

“Off ye go.”

As I headed toward my room, verra softly I whispered,

“Witch!”

“Witch!”

“Witch…”

Chapter 2: The Garden and the Crow

The next mornin’ mother called. I didna know if I was dreaming, but it sounded far away.

“Elspeth, breakfast.”

I began to wake, but not entirely.

With eyes still shut and my red hair tousled around my shoulders, I mumbled, “Aye … mother … I’ll …” And dozed off.

“Elspeth. The garden won’t weed itself.”

“What? Garden … messy … weeds, aye …”

Then a loud noise shot me out of bed. I ran to the sittin’ room and there stood mother.

“Ah, I see ye have decided to grace us with yer appearance. Sit. Eat and whatever you do, don’t dawdle. You have work that needs to be done.”

My woolen feet shuffled across the wooden floor to the chair and I plopped down. Head back and eyes shut once more. Father sat across from me. I sensed he wore a smile. He always smiles when I come into a room.

“I’m so …” and stretched a wee bit, “tired. Why?”

“That’s because ye used magick.” And continued bustling about.

I spread freshly churned butter onto a piece of bread and yawned some more.

As I ate, the richness of the butter on warm bread tasted heavenly. Chewing, I couldna help but wonder, if using magick makes a person tired? Then why do it?

“Mother …”

She set a mug of hot tea down, “Don’t speak with yer mouth full. Drink.”

I took a big gulp then, “Mother, how does usin’ magick make ye tired?”

“The magick is inside you. When ye use it, you use what energy ye have to waken it. Ye’ll be tired at first, but as ye become better at the craft ye’ll grow less tired. Eat.”

Just by saying the word, witch, made me feel this worn out, I don’t think I want to learn anythin’ else.

“Finish yer breakfast then get dressed. The garden is a bit weedy. When ye are done with that, make teabags. This will be yer second lesson. Ye’ve seen me make them aye?”

“Aye. Ye take pinches from each bowl and place it on the cloth and tie. Right?”

I’ve been waitin’ for this day to come and now that it’s here, I’m verra excited. Even my stomach is crinklin’ up.

I looked at the clay bowls. They were dark brown, with flowers etched in them ─ I remember watchin’ mother make the tea bags herself. She said I needed to grow up first before I could help. I guess that time is now.

Then, as usual, I got to thinkin’ about how to do this better. Faster.

“Why not mix the herbs together, then spoon a bit?”

“Elspeth, I give you instruction to teach ye a craft. If you don’t heed what I say, it won’t turn out. Ye don’t mix them all, because ye might miss an herb and its properties won’t be achieved correctly.”

“Properties?”

She sat next to me, “Aye. Ye are making teas for those who are sick. This tea is for fevers. In this bowl are black tea, next cinnamon, third, marjoram, and last, thyme. I have to go to market now.”

“Aye, mother.”

She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, picked up her basket of tea bags, and kissed father.

“I’ll return before sundown.”

She kissed my forehead and smiled before she left. Her eyes were soulful. Deep. I often wondered what stories laid behind them. She knew so much. There must have been adventures that she had seen.

I looked at the individual bowls again and I imagined them with sad faces, waiting for me to sit with them.

“Aw, wee lambs?”

“Wee lambs?” Father asked.

“Aye.” And pointed to the bowls, “They have such sad faces. I need to cheer them up.”

“You are the silly one. How did ye come to be so?”

I leaned forward, beckonin’ him to come closer. With a hint of mischief in my eyes, I said, “Ye!”

“Me?”

“Aye. Ye’ve got that spark too. I’ve seen it. Especially when ye look at mother.”

His eyes got big and he cleared his throat a bit, “I ─ dinna ye have things ye need to be doing?”

“I have, but let me tell my sweet lambs something first.”

He just shook his head at me and smiled.

I put on my happiest face and said, “Dinna worry my wee lassies, I will sit wi’ ye as soon as I’m done outside. Aye?” Their faces became full of smiles.I stretched one more time and headed to my room.

Now, my room used to be our pantry. Mother said when I got older, I am to have it as my verra own room. At first, I didna like it. I mean, it’s where our food was stored and it didna look verra cheerful. How is one to dream sweet dreams in such a place?

I remember that day. I pulled on my mother’s apron …

“I canna dream in here. It’s too small. My dreams are big and I …” I got lost in my words.

“Elspeth, yer acting a wee bit numptie. Ye’ll see, it’ll be the perfect room for dreams of all sizes.”

She’s right ye know. Once everythin’ was gone, it grew. The walls were white, with a window that looked out into the meadow behind our house. Mother made curtains too. Blue, to match the sky. Oh, and my bed is special. Father made it and had carved Heather into the headboard. Every night, before I close my eyes, I say a prayer on them.

Now, I dinna have a wardrobe closet, so my brown dress and apron hung on wooden pegs by the door. Next to my bed is a basket where I keep my woolen socks. Socks must go on first before my feet touch the floor. I hate cold feet.

Now, I have three dresses. One for workin’ outside and the others for special occasions.

My skin pimpled as the thought of cool air hitting bare skin as I began to dress. Brrr …

Out in the other room, Father called out, “Elspeth, I’ll not be far. I have to go see Mr. McKenzie. Hurry up now.”

“I will.”

The door opened and closed and with his parting came the silence. I stood there, in my room. The stillness felt welcomin’. I dinna know what it is about being by myself. I just enjoyed it. I guess it’s the solitude or maybe … bringing myself out of such thoughts, I remembered I had things to do. The first thing to do was get dressed.

I counted to three then ─ off went my nightgown and down came my dress over my head. Struggles against the fabric that was not so giving made me angry, but soon warmth covered my skin once more. A most comforting smile bloomed. Then, on went two more pairs of socks. My feet looked like stuffed sausages when I’m done. Big and fat. I canna even see my toes wiggle!

Last, came shoes. They would be outside. “Dirt must never enter my home.” As I tried to sound like mother. Directly afterward, my eyes looked left, they looked right, then I laughed and laughed.

At that point, an idea crept into my head, why not skate to the front door. I slid one foot forward, “This would work!”

There I stood, on a frozen pond, set in the middle of a meadow filled with Lavender flowers.

I didna like winter. Too cold. Besides, this is my imagination.

The door, though a few feet ahead of me, looked yards away. A glow surrounded its frame. I pretended it was the sun callin’ to me.

“Come.”

I looked down at my feet, then closed my eyes. I slid my foot forward and I glided a wee bit, then the other foot followed suit, till my feet continued. Left, right, left, right … I turned on one foot, then both then twirled around and around. Animals came to watch me after a while and cheered as I did leaps and jumps.Then─ down I went. Verra hard.

“Och!”

My side had fallen onto something hard and when I opened my eyes I saw what I had hit … the corner of the table. Thank goodness I didna upset the bowls.

Clutching my side, it felt as though it had a heartbeat and it burned as well.

“I’ll never do that again. Ooo … at least not in the house. Och!” And rubbed some more.

I opened the door and fetched my wooden shoes that were neatly placed side by side off to the right. The smell of grass, dirt, herbs, and warm sunshine wafted against my face. What a grand day.

As I slipped my wooden shoes on, their hardness gave some comforts. My father made them for me when I was a wee bairn. They’re no’ fancy, but he did carve my initials on the sides of them. I kinda think that wherever I am, he is wi’ me. One day, I tried wearing them with just one pair of socks. I had walked down the cobblestones to the opened gate and just as I was about to step onto the road, my foot stumbled on one of the rocks. Before I knew it, my face hit the muddy road. Father laughed and laughed.

“Isnna funny.”

He lent me a hand and pulled me up. Dirt smudged my cheeks and my apron looked even worse. I was a bit manky and I tried to bat the dirt off as best as I could, but didna help.

“Next time, wear more socks, yer shoes will stay on. Didna mother tell ye that?”

I nodded.

“I just thought I’d try, so I … I’ll go put on more socks after I clean up a bit.”

He just laughed and shook his head and went on his way.

Ye know, I never noticed, but my father is quite tall. Big shoulders, strong and he sways from side to side when he walks. His face is tanned from the sun, a weathered look, with happy lines. I hope that when I wed, my husband will have happy lines too.

“Elspeth, work,” I told myself.

The day was warm and the trees were starting to change colors. I stepped out onto the cobbled path and toward the gate. The day couldna been better. Birds sang, people did their chores, and children ran about laughin’. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes.

I wanted to take this moment to feel the world around me. With my head tilted toward the sky, I sought out the sun. Afterward, I stood in silence. As if in prayer … There on a hillside, far, far away, I stood. Alone from everything and everyone. The warm wind touched my cheeks and rustled the trees, making them sing. Oh, and the fragrant flowers that grew around my feet scented the air. I spoke, “Oh, Mother of earth, I stand before ye. A lonely girl, with unruly, red hair and a dirt-smudged dress. Thank ye for makin’ this day so lovely …”

After that, I got busy. Tis not a big garden, but ye couldna see the rows anymore. I cringed. How did I ever let it get so wild? I went to the well, picked up the bucket, and started to pull the weeds.

Now I know the difference between a weed and an herb. Mother showed me. Tis no’ hard. Pullin’ the ugly vines I pondered what purpose did they have? To me, they were an evil mingin. Its sole purpose was to grow and be torn from the ground and tossed away. Anyway, they ruined our garden that’s all I knew and they had to go.

I didna mind workin’ outside. The sun felt so good. Warm and as my hands pulled out the weeds, a song came to mind. Something my father sang to me before he’d lay me to rest. About three Crows sitting on a wall.

There we were, in his rocker, my toes, warm and toasty from the fire in the hearth and my head, against his chest. All cuddled up small in his arms. We rocked back and forth, in time with the song. I felt myself moving wi’ it … rememberin’.

Elspeth, ye dawdling again. I reminded myself and went back to work hummin’ my song.

And as I kept busy, I wondered what it would be like to be a Crow? I saw myself as such, going over great distances of water and such. Maybe fly to some distant land? The possibilities were endless.

Just then, a bird did fly above me. I watched as it dipped and turned in the sky. So free. It was a Crow, like the one in my song, but as I watched it, the world became verra still. Verra quiet upon his presence. I didna like the feel of things as my skin prickled. Somethin’ wasna right. The thought of runnin’ into the house came about when a wee voice spoke. I didna know where. I looked around but saw no one. I heard it again, but couldna make out what it said.

I covered my ears from it, but it came from inside my head. I glanced back to the Crow and found it starin’ at me. Its eyes. They were strange. Not like any bird I ever saw. This Crow was no ordinary Crow, this … I ran into the house and sought out my mother’s Grimoire. She didna know that I, from time to time, would look in her book, but I remember seein’ a page about birds. There were even drawin’s of them. That’s what I needed to find.

“Birds, birds, birds … no, Crows, Crows … where are ye?”

Her book wasna verra big, but awkward to handle. So, there I sat, at the table, turning the pages carefully so as not to tear them. Pressed flowers and leaves between the pages, made it difficult as well.

After five minutes, I found the part where she had written about birds and their meanings. She had drawn a Crow on the page, the verra Crow that now sat in our tree.

“A Crow means that what ye seek will present itself to ye soon. Seeing a Crow also means that ye are ready. That the time is at hand and that a great truth will be told. A great importance.”