Page 14 of Prodigal Son

“A smell?”

“A rot. Your kind typically carries the scent of death, but this is…stronger.”

Juniper paused, startled by her aunt’s insensitive words. Sick people came into the store all the time, searching for healing spells and customized talismans. Aunt Bel was usually more openhearted to those customers, so why was she being so insensitive to this man?

“Is that how you recognized my kind?”

“We have many ways to identify our enemies.”

Again, Juniper paused from dusting the displays. Enemy? She sensed none of the darkness her aunt spoke of.

“I have no enemies.”

“That may be true, but druids have been wary of the undead since the stone age. Old habits die hard.”

Undead? Abandoning her housekeeping, Juniper crept closer to the curtain and listened.

“Is that how you identify—druid?”

“My ancestors have been called many things—druid, pagan, witch, Wiccan. We prefer to think of ourselves as healers and herbalists. That’s why you’re here, is it not?”

“I’m in need of wisdom. I’m told you hold the ancient mage of a crone.”

Juniper rolled her eyes. If that was true, why did the IRS have her aunts registered as merchants and the town directory labeled their goods as souvenirs and knickknacks? People were so gullible—including her aunts.

“You claim you’re Amish. Are there more of your kind hiding in plain sight?”

The man hesitated. “Yes. Many more. We have an order just an hour north of here, but we are a peaceful, God-fearing sect that does not follow the ideals of our European ancestors. We are, in every sense of the word, Amish.”

“So, you believe in a Christian god, or is that part of your cover?”

“I believe in one eternal God that rules over all creation.”

“Has your god failed you? Is that why you’re seeking the wisdom of The Goddess?”

“I seek only knowledge and mercy.”

“But you asked for a mage. You want access to the crone, which is only one part of the trinity. Much like your god takes shape as the father, son, and spirit, our Triple Goddess has three forms. The crone holds the knowledge, but the mother bears all mercy. And what of the maiden? Is it not youth and salvation you seek?”

“I only wish to heal. The source matters little at this point.”

“You’re rather humble for an undead.”

“Immortal.”

“I’d say that’s up for debate.”

Juniper had no idea how her aunt kept a straight face through such role playing. They actually expected her to do the same, taking a larger role in the store after graduation, but there was no way. Juniper was fine with manning the register and stocking the shelves, but she wasn’t dedicating her life to the role of small-town hippy witch like her aunts had. They were literally one cat whisker away from being as bad as carnie freaks.

“Can you help me?”

“I am only a portal between The Great Cosmos and The Great Goddess. I have no power beyond what she gives me.”

“Will you try?”

“For a price.”

Ah, there it was. The old sales pitch. Had to keep those florescent lights burning, because the electric company apparently couldn’t be charmed.

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