Page 34 of Impractical Magic
“Nate,” Delilah said quietly, “I’m going to have to ask you to stay back here.”
“Sure. You do your thing; I’m just here soaking up the atmosphere.”
Scarlett handed him her lantern and followed her sisters.
The witches circled the massive tree, studying its thick, strong branches and pointy leaves. Nothing was obviously wrong, but all the women could feel, in their hearts, that absolutely nothing was right.
“Okay, you two,” Luna whispered. “I’m going to have that chat.”
She knelt before the old giant, gently caressing its knotty trunk. From the folds of her cloak, Luna removed an elaborately carved wooden box. Inside the box were nine small candles. She removed one candle and, with a small flame that ignited off the tip of her index finger, melted one end of the candle and attached it to the tree.
Scarlett nudged her elder sister in the ribs. “Open flame. Alert, alert: there is an open flame in the woods.”
“She’s allowed,” Delilah whispered back.
“Why is Luna allowed?”
“Luna is allowed to use flame because Luna never set her bedroom on fire.”
“Six. Years. Old.”
“Can you two stop?” Luna called over her shoulder. “Sacred ritual and all that?”
Delilah muttered, “She started it . . .”
Luna repeated the melting gesture with the rest of the candles, creating a small, glowing circle on the side of the oak. As she did so, she spoke gently in some ritualistic dialect Scarlett didn’t recognize.
“What’s that language she’s speaking?” she whispered to Delilah.
“I believe it’s a hortikinetic language.”
“You say a hortikinetic language, meaning there’s more than one?”
Delilah made a face. “There’s loads. What, do you think seaweed speaks the same language as cacti? Duh.”
“Wow, a whole world of hortikinetic languages . . . I doubt I could learn a hortikinetic language if I lived a thousand years.”
Delilah agreed. “That’s our baby sister for you.”
“So impressive. Fucking Gandalf up in here.”
Luna turned. “Guys, shh! I mean it.”
“Sorry . . .”
Returning to her incantation, Luna reached out very slowly, placing her palm in the center of the circle of candles. After a moment, the bark around her hand began to glow.
Scarlett and Delilah watched in amazement as the glowing light spread from the bark to Luna’s hand, then crept throughout her entire body. Luna whispered, and nodded, and whispered some more. The glow receded as gracefully as it had arrived. She blew out the candles, carefully removed them from the bark, and placed them back in the box. Luna picked up her lantern and returned to her sisters.
“What’d it say?” asked Scarlett. “What’s the news from Treetown?”
“To be clear, trees don’t speak English. They communicate through feelings and images. This oak showed me a different oak on the grove’s western side. Something about the condition of that western tree is bothering all the other trees in the grove. When I tried to understand why, the oak showed me a strange insect, like a small dragonfly. Its wings lit up like a firefly, but a crimson light, not yellow. The image came to me accompanied by a tremendous sense of concern. Which is to say, whatever’s going on with that western tree, the other trees are really unhappy about it.”
“Sounds like some kind of magical infestation,” Delilah suggested.
“Felt that way, too.” Luna nodded. “The red dragonflies are upsetting the rest of the grove. Come, let’s find the tree they’re all so troubled by.”
The two sisters hurried to the west, but Scarlett paused. “Sure,” she muttered. “Let’s go find the tree that all the other trees are scared of. What could go wrong?” She turned, gave Nate a little whistle, and pointed westward.
