9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC Read Online Free PDF Page A

happened. Here. In Sanctuary.”
    The old lady had to be approaching the century mark but
she was on her knees weeding the flower beds. Her face looked like a crinkled
road map as she concentrated on pulling a stubborn weed with strong roots.
Saylym slid her gaze over Eldora. Today, as always, she wore eye-startling
bright colors. A vivid sunset-orange silk gown dusted the ground and today the
pointy hat on top of her scraggly hair was sunburst yellow. A silver band with
dark blue stars circled the crown of the hat and a black leather belt with a
wide silver buckle hugged her skinny waist. Her frizzy, white hair poked up at
odd angles above her ears like bits of straw.
    A slight breeze would most likely fell her. The woman
stopped pulling weeds and slowly rose to her feet.
    Saylym winced when she heard Eldora’s knees creak.
    “Twenty
thousand,” the old lady cackled.
    “I
beg your pardon?”
    “I’m
approaching twenty thousand.”
    She sounded so damn gleeful about it Saylym thought Eldora
just might kick her heels up in the air.
    “Tomorrow’s
my birthday,” she announced. “I broke tradition and changed it from All
Hallows’ Eve. Any witch can have a birthday on that day, but there isn’t a
single other witch whose birthday is May second.”
    “Congratulations and–uh-hap-happy birthday. And I’ll be
twenty thousand tomorrow too,” Saylym mumbled beneath her breath.
    “Oh, no, dear, you’ll be three-hundred-fifteen come All
Hallows’ Eve. You’ll reach your majority. Twenty-one years of age in illumrof years.”
    Three-hundred-fifteen? What the hell were illumrof years ? And why was she even worried about what a crazy old lady said?
    “I like twenty-one better,” Saylym said.
“Three-hundred-fifteen tends to scare away my dates. How do you know when my
birthday is, anyway?”
    “Don’t
you know? I’m a witch,” she hooted. “All witches are born on All Hallows’ Eve,
except me, and I changed my birthday.”
    “Yes, I know.” Damn it, she knew she shouldn’t have
encouraged the old lady. Eldora was as dotty as the grizzled cab driver. Now
that she thought about it, the hag’s eyes were the same brilliant blue. Maybe
they were somehow related.
    Saylym shook her head. Man, she was getting bad, imagining
her poor neighbor resembled the cab driver she’d had the misfortune to meet.
Nothing could hide the mischievous sparkle in the old woman’s bright blue eyes.
Still, there was something fragile about her. Something faded, something rather
endearing, when she wasn’t rambling about witches and illumrofs .
Whatever the hell that strange sounding word meant.
    “Another glorious day,” the crone screeched, glancing up
at the clear green/yellow, and orange sky. “Not a red cloud in sight. A lovely
such as you should have a handsome waken wooing her.”
    Saylym smiled. “Well, Miss Eldora, I haven’t seen any
handsome er– wakens– that annoying word again, since coming to Sanctuary.
And since arriving in Sanctuary, all she’d heard was waken this and waken that.”
She rubbed her jaw as it suddenly dawned on her she hadn’t met any males, waken or otherwise since moving to
Sanctuary. She’d been so busy setting up the shop and settling into the
cottage, she hadn’t really paid attention to the lack of men.
    The shop carried mostly gimmicks and souvenirs, but
amazingly, the lines had been long to get inside since the day she opened–lines
of females. No males. Strange.
    Eldora nodded, placed a finger alongside her bulbous nose
and cackled again. “Come Beltane, that’s beginning today, dearie, the streets
will be crawling with handsome young males by the witching hour. That’s
midnight tonight, dearie. They come here from Droth–that’s on the other side of
Annu Mountain, you know.” She bobbed her head as though agreeing with Saylym,
though she’d made no reply to the old woman’s ramblings. “Sanctuary belongs to
the Wiccans, you know. But at Beltane–” Eldora gave a long