NANO novel trying to get this done. Is it worth it. forgive errors this is rough

          Hanna pulled the bright yellow bug to the side of the road and checked her GPS once again. This was not a road; it was two ruts running through a wood.  The GPS still said turn here. Shrugging her shoulders, Hanna started the car and turned.

          Bumping along the trail, she kept   her eyes peeled for a simple cottage that was her new home. Once again she could not believe she had inherited a cottage and an annual income from an Aunt Tabby whose existence   was a secret her mother took with her to the grave.  Yet, it had come at the right moment to revive her after a bitter divorce, which had also cost her job as a librarian in the small Kansas town, which had been her lifelong home. Now she was the owner of a house in New England on the Atlantic coast near the Canadian border with an income, which meant she no longer had to work, plus an account to maintain the property.

          The male voice of GPS indicated another left turn, which broke her thoughts, as a break in the trees widened and a house came into view. It was two stories built of stone with attic dormer windows,

          Could this be the house? If so, it was not her idea of a stone cottage or the saltbox and cedar shingled home she expected.  It sat near a cliff and the Atlantic could be seen and heard hitting the grey stone at the beach below. Hanna stopped the car as the GPS announced ‘you are here”. 

            Hanna walked to the door. A brass next to the door read Seacliff cottage. Foundation laid in 1640.  This was indeed her new home.

          Hanna looked for the iron frog which held the house key and found it nearly hidden by the dried up sedum plantings. Lifting it she shook until the key fell into her hand and putting it in the lock opened the door to her new life. She expected cobwebs and dust as the lawyer had said Tabby had been ill for years, but the hall was pristine and furniture shone with recent polishing. Fresh flowers were in an aged crackled jug on the table and there was a note propped next to it.

                      Hanna,

                      Welcome to Sea Cliff. I am so glad that once again the house will live. My name is Mercy and I took the liberty of cleaning it and stocking the pantry and refrigerator once I knew you arrival date. Tabby taught me much about herbs and such and I feel I have repaid part of what I owe her by doing this.

          I have also brought you a house cat as Seacliff always has had one and there seemed to be a mousey invasion in progress. She is a calico and oh by the way she is expecting. Seacliff kittens are always in demand in the village so relax.

          The journals on the desk are the history of the house. I do hope you will read them. I will be over in a day or so to meet you.

          Mercy Good. 


Intrigued by the note and how this Mercy knew about her, Hanna was relieved not to have to hunt a grocer this first day. Another blessing was the house came fully furnished so no shopping until she wanted change and knew what it would be.  Before she brought in her baggage, she decided to walk through her new home. The lower rooms were large and lit by windows and showed their older roots as each held a large fireplace and broad planked floors of yellow pine. The staircase to the upper floors was wider than normal in an older home so it had to been added later as had the upper story. Each of the bedchambers again had a fireplace, but the windows were larger and the glass no longer had blowers’ marks. Hanna felt she had to read the journals to know the history of the house. Finally approaching the attic door, which she attempted to open, but it was locked. She made a mental note to ask this Mercy person for a key.

          Dusk was falling when she went downstairs and went to the kitchen. The stainless steel appliances looked odd in a room that still had a spitted fireplace and a brick oven, but somehow the result was pleasant. A huge red ware bowl on the counter held apples of all colors, and the refrigerator was stocked with milk, water, sliced meat and cheese.  Cupboards held cereals, spices, and other staples. Mercy had been efficient and Hanna was happy with the welcome the woman had prepared.

          Leaning back against the counter Hanna relaxed as she ate a quick sandwich and waited for coffee to brew, she once again wondered how an unknown aunt had found her and provided for her. Life had not been easy the past year. Patrick her love of her life partner had not shared the idea of eternal faithfulness as she found out when she caught him on top of his married assistant principal who was on top of his wide administrator ‘s desk, and he was bitter, mean and resentful of her decision not to be satisfied with the status quo. Popular in their small Kansas town where he was a homegrown leader, she became an outcast and a school board did not renew her teaching contract whose head was Patrick’s uncle? She had managed to keep the bug and half the money from the house sale but six months later the money was low and no job was in sight. Facing an unknown future, the telephone call from her Aunt’s lawyer three weeks ago had been a ray of sunshine breaking the gloom on her life. Now she was here and ready to move on.

          The sound of footfalls above her broke the reverie just as something jumped on her shoulder.  A meow announced the arrival of the house cat that proceeded to wrap her warm body around Hanna’s neck for a few minutes before she flew to the floor to pace in front of Hanna. Mewling as she walked the cat wen from Hanna to the door and back again.

          “What is it kitty? What do you want? Is something at the door?”

          The mewling went higher in pitch and louder. Hanna went to the door and opened it, and a huge silver tabby waited there. Walking in the tabby called to the smaller calico and the cats began a dance of sorts rubbing an entwining tails while purring loudly. Hanna had to laugh at their antics until tabby sat in front of her as if to assess her.

          “Okay, you are welcome here.”  Hanna announced and the two cats took off in a game of tag me that seemed fated to cover the entire house. Still smiling Hanna went to get her baggage from her car. She stepped outside and was stopped by a large man at the door with her bags in hand.  He walked into the house and turned.” You will be in the east room.” He announced and then went up the stairs. Hanna followed confused at this incident.

          “Who are you?  Why the east room? I rather like the one with the windows to the south,”

          “Owners always stay it the east room. It is the biggest.”

          “That makes sense, but just who are you?”

          “Barid. I live in the guesthouse in the rear. Did they not tell you about me?”

          “No. There was no mention of you or a woman called Mercy in the information given to me.”

          “Just as well. Too much is as dangerous as too little.” He offered as he turned, left the room, went down the stairs and out the door. Hanna followed asking questions, which were ignored. When the door closed, she shrugged and decided it could all wait until tomorrow, but she shot the lock on both doors. 
 . . .. 
The east room was large but dominated by a bed that looked as if it was from the earliest era of the house, but the sheets were clean an scented with lavender as indeed the entire room was. She walked to the deep welled window and knelt on the window seat to look at the night sky. The clouds were moving rapidly dark fluffs against the silver lit sky behind them. The trees stretched their barren limbs to scratch the air though there was no breeze. There was a golden light from the only guesthouse window she could see. Turning from the view she went to the bed and climbed under the down filled quilt, but sleep was not quick to come.

           Hanna awoke with a start. Something had touched her hair in a caress. She felt no threat but the sense of being touched filled her with curiosity. Looking around the room she noticed both cats curled on the bed near her feet. Perhaps it had been one of them as they settled in, but she doubted it, as the touch seemed made by long fingers gently stroking her hair.  Shaking her head she laid down dismissing it as a dream—a too real dream. This time sleep was quick and deep.

          The morning light and soft pawing of the cats woke her.  At her stirring the cats jumped off the bed, and tails in the air walked to the door. Stopping there they turned and yowled at her.  Hanna smiled at their plea for her to follow. ”Alright, I get the message. Breakfast for you; coffee for me”

          Pulling on a robe, Hanna became aware of someone in the house. Soft singing and dishes clattering   were coming from the kitchen. Now what Hanna thought as she went downstairs and went to the kitchen where a plump redhead was stirring something on the stove.  Both cats were weaving between her feet. She leaned forward to pat them.

          “Imp so you have decided. You will stay here. Well, it is the nature of you blacks. You choose your domain not us.  Call, you will be happy with him here, will you?”

          “Imp? Call?  They are named already?   And who the heck are you?”

          “Mercy Good. And the cats are not named; they choose their own names. It has been ever so, Hanna Proctor.”

          “Cats name themselves?” Hanna sat with a surprised thump on a stool near the table.

          “Oh yes. Have you not noticed they refuse to come until you say the right one?   I have coddled eggs here and toast. Coffee is done. “

           Thanks, I think.  Sorry, but why is you here making breakfast?”

          “It is what I do. Oh, they did not tell about me then.  I was a woman of all things for your Aunt. She asked me to stay on until you adjusted. “

          “Adjusted?”

          “To life at Sea cliff.”

          “What?”

          Mercy stopped stirring and looked at Hanna for a few moments and changed the subject as she plopped a plate of eggs, ham and toast. “You have met Barid then?”

          “Barid, well, he carried my bags up to the east room though I wanted the south. Then he gave me his name and not much more.”

          “That is our Barid. He is private but Miss Tabby liked him well enough?”

          “Enough for what? She was well over eighty and he is what? Early forties?”

          Mercy laughed. ”No not like you might think, but he is a local lad home from that Afghani war. It worked a bad magic on him; it did. Then he got home to find his Mother passed on while he traveled to get here. Not that they were close but still. Anyway he was in a bad way, and your aunt offered him the guesthouse. It has peace, quiet and no demands. She hoped it might heal what she knew was a wounded soul. Miss Tabby had a healing touch among other talents.”

          “So he pays rent?”

          “Of course not. Did you not hear me say no demands? He does do the odd chore or so.”

          Mercy turned to load a dishwasher ending the questions. Hanna attacked the plate of food lost in thought. Carrying her dish to Mercy, she ventures one more question.”  You said my aunt had talents. Did she paint, write or what?”

          “None of those. She, she. To tell the truth she made me promise to let the house teach you the truth of her life and of your family.”  Whipping off her apron Mercy walked to the door. ”I will be back after I go to the market for supper. Listen to the house. It is longing to bloom again.”

          Listen to the house now what does that mean Hanna wondered?  How could a house talk? Why would Mercy not share what she knew? Hanna went to the stack of journals.

          Determined to begin at the beginning Hanna searched through the stack looking for a journal from 1640 the earliest date of the house but the earliest journal found began in 1693. Taking it to a window for light she sat and began to decipher the faded ink’s feather y script.

                      Sept 30 1693

                      On this several relatives and friends moved to house I should call Seacliff, which has become my home.

                      The original hose is gone but some ten years ago longing for solitude and peace from misguided neighbors, my Uncle Endeavor bought the land and erected this house to which I have add a second story ad a smaller outbuilding of one story called the cottage. When he died some two years ago childless, my husband was his heir. Matthew was a Bishop from Salem but not of the more known Bishops still tis not a good name to have at this time. Never strong the recent happenings in Salem drained his strength, and he now lies in the parlor awaiting tomorrow’s burial. Jacob Proctor, Anne Good and her brother Timothy sit with his remains as I record the story of our exodus.

                      Last spring the word witchcraft became a scourge in Salem and it has recently been proven that many false accusations were made. Wrongs were done. Jacob had a brother John by his father’s second wife who was hung; Anne and timothy lost the aunt that had mothered them until her mind snapped with age. And even more. My family was spared but I do think had they looked closer at my practice of herbal cures and midwifery, I like my great aunt Rebecca Nurse who taught me was executed during the fire of the moment would have been called out.  Matthew sensing the passion of the silly girls began plans to move us to this house in the woods he had had from his uncle.

          We removed ourselves here in early June of this year. But selling his tannery, packing our goods and planning the move to this place while telling no one of its exact location sapped the savor of the man and never was he strong to begin with.  He sickened in July and naught that I brewed could revive his body or his spirit. He passed late last night and this this morning those that now sit with him knocked on our door. They asked asylum as he had promised them.

          So we will bide here away from the turmoil of the world and by the goddess we will prosper, as we must for I am with child. So mote it is. Mary Nurse Bishop, widow of Matthew.

          Mercy appeared at the door interrupting Hanna’s reading. She began to bustle around the room dusting things that need to be dusted. Finally she stopped beside Hanna waiting. Hanna recognized a busybody when she saw one and was tempted to leave the room but she did have questions.

          “Mercy, I could read these journals for a spotty history of the house as there gaps of years here. But I feel you can tell me what I should know about the house and the families that lived here.”

          “I can but I promised Tabby I’d not say a thing unless asked a direct question and there will be some things you need to learn by living here,”

          “Ok here is a direct question. Your name and my name and the people in the book are all tied to the Salem witchcraft trials, am I right?”

          “Yes, they were refugees from the trials. Those trials were so wrong and many innocents were put to death. You and I are descended from these families as is Braid.”

          “You are a Good, I am a Proctor and Barid is a”

          “Bishop.”

          “So what can you tell me now that I have asked a question?  Do not break your promise as that seems important.”

          “Yes an oath made to a  ...to Tabby is not given lightly and should be kept.  You read the first entry or two rights? So I feel I can tell you about your new home.”











          “ It was built around 1622 by a recluse who left the Bay colony as it was not to his taste .He lived here alone, but in following years it became as you have been reading a refuge of those whom the witch trials sought or whose families had been touched by the tragedy of the times.  Since then the house has passed down in your family but not everyone who held title to the house and land could live here. It was if the house rejected some people and welcomed others who once welcomed lived extraordinary long lives.”

“ The house chooses who lives here?” Hanna broke in. “just how does one know if the house has chosen them?”

           After a moment of thought, Mercy replied.” I really do not know how the house let its will be known, but Tabby was accepted before I was born so I have not seen it reject an owner. Nor before you ask, I do not know how long a person has to wait to know. I just know that the house chooses and those it chooses have powers.”

          “Powers, Mercy?”

           “Tabby was brilliant with herbs--- growing and using them. Her mother had the sight. I believe, but perhaps I am wrong, that it is those who have no power or who do not accept those they have, they are the ones, which are rejected. None who have lived here as you will read have been without power of some sort.”

    “And me?”  Hanna said “ power? Do I have Power?”

    Mercy stopped on her way out f the room and turned to Hanna. “ The house will know.”

CHAPTER 2

   During next few days, Mercy bustled in and out without taking much time to chat, and Barid just did not chat. So exploring the house and gardens filled Hanna’s days an the nights were devoted to the journals which not long after the first few entries become a listing of income and out go with no hints of power, acceptance or rejection.    The house had rooms and the rooms had crannies and nooks.  Hanna wondered through them marveling at furnishings still intact from its beginning until present day. An antique dealer would have a heyday here she thought touching an armoire in the east room as she hung her clothes in I, but she knew nothing would leave the house as long as she owned it.

The gardens were however her happy place. Ancient roses and patterned herb plots lived happily next to wild profusions of country garden staples such as hollyhocks, foxglove, daisies and lavender which was also an herb.  There was even a stone circle in the eastern near the cliff edge, which caught the light of the rising sun, but she was continually drawn to the small stone cottage near Braid’s guesthouse. Its rafters were hand hewn and hung with drying herbs.  Jars held dried raised petals, lavender buds, and various seeds all carefully labeled.  Mortars and pestles   stood ready to be used on a long worktable under the window.  The aromas and the snugness of the cottage called to Hanna, and once she discovered it, she found herself spending hours there memorizing the contents then spending the evenings researching the history and uses of the herbs it contained. She had nothing to do but what she wanted to do and for now that contented her for now though she knew that it would not last.

Monday of her third week she wondered down to the kitchen in search of wakeup coffee and one of Mercy’s bran muffins and found Mercy in serious conversation with the cats She stood at the doorway and eavesdropped in plain sight.

  “  Yes I know you two approve, but the house is not speaking yet, How will know when it does accept or reject? I took us two years to find Hanna what if she is not the one?” Low meows answered Mercy’s questions. Hanna was about to break into the conversation when Barid burst in.

 “ So Mercy, have the familiars weighed in and,” he stopped when he saw Hanna in the doorway.

 “Familiars? Like witches have?” Hanna asked stepping into the kitchen. Barid and Mercy exchanged glances.

“ Yes, the house always has two cats and they need to accept the owners or they leave. These two have been here longer than most with some new owners. Tabby was told me that there somewhere in the journal a list of cats and owners both accepted and rejected.”

“ So were these here with Aunt Tabby?”

 “No.”

“ She did not have familiars---err cats.”

“Oh she had cats, “Mercy broke in. “ But they … they”

Barid   broke in. “Tell her Mercy.”

“ They left when she passed.” Mercy finished.

Hanna walked out of the room without a backward glance. Mercy looked at Barid.” Well! Now she knows.”

Barid shrugged his shoulders and said “ but will she believe?

Chapter 3 

Hanna avoided Mercy and Barid for several days. Even tried to avoid the two cats, but that impossible. Even when she thought she had left them, they would suddenly appear to wrap themselves around her feet. She knew she avoiding facing the truth she felt in what Mercy and Barid had said in the kitchen that morning. Mercy sensed her need to be alone and meal trays arrived wherever she was with a small popping sound. That alone gave some reality to the magic powers.

On the fifth day since they had hinted at her powers, it rained. The grey, soft, cold New England rain shrouded the house in a veil of mist. Hanna wanted to go to the herb hut but the rain seemed designed to keep her inside. Pulling the curtains of the parlor’s bay window, she stared at the rain wishing it away.

“ Go ahead. Go out to the herbs. They need you. You will not get wet. I promise.”  A soft voice spoke to Hanna and an unseen hand, turned her way from the window towards the hallway. Hanna turned but no one was there. She paused at the doorway shaking her head. Then again she heard “Go on.”  

Without thinking Hanna went down the all and out the door. The mizzle fell all round her but not a drop fell on her hair or body. She walked to the herb house as if protected by a large umbrella while wondering why the word mizzle had sprung into her thoughts. Then she was there and once in the door, she felt welcomed and comforted.

 Without thinking about it she reached for the mortar and pestle ready make some tea.  Her mother had made herb teas, and now Hanna wanted a cup of the comfort tea her mother had blended when things seemed unsettled. What her mother used?

 “ Chamomile” The word seemed to come from nowhere. Hanna glanced around the room. No one was there. She reached for the jar labeled chamomile. ‘’ Lavender calms.” The voice suggested and this time Hanna did not survey the room as she added lavender to the mortar and began to blend the dried blossoms.

 Putting the water to boil on the electric burner, Hanna felt the cats winding around her ankles. She was sure she had shut the door against the rain. She glanced toward it.  It was closed. How had the furry companions come in? Had the door swung open with the wind gusts and then shut once again? Surely it would have banged and she would have heard it.

The whistling of the kettle broke into her thoughts. Lifting a cup from the shelf to make tea, the voice stopped her.  “ Not that one. I used it for toxic brews. The yellow color was the reminder.”  Hanna replaced the cup on another shelf to avoid selecting it again and reached for a bright blue one as the voice whispered, “ That was my favorite.” Without pausing she set the tea to brew and began for the first time to look more closely at what she thought of her haven in her new life.  Two cats tail swishing followed her as she walked around the room until suddenly both felines walked in front of her and sat.  Hanna stopped and was about to go around the living roadblock when Callie jumped up on the counter followed by Imp meowing loudly.

Hanna looked at the two cats and then realized they were directly in front of a cupboard that she had yet to open. Imp turned to her walked over and rubbed himself against her chest and then immediately went to set in front of the cupboard pawing t its doors. Intrigued by the feline antics, Hanna pulled the doors open to find leather bound books resting on the shelves.  The binding matched the journals she had been reading but these books were both larger in size and thicker. She pulled one toward her and opened it randomly. It was a recipe for a tisane and as she read Hanna realized it was a tea such as she had just brewed, but this was aimed at soothing a sore throat. Innocent herbal remedies, Hanna thought putting the book back. She turned to get her tea when Callie pawed a book from the shelf. It fell open on the counter. Hanna gasped when she saw the words; Spells to accompany tisanes. The spidery script was faded and hard to read but the words so mote it be and do harm to none stood out.

She snapped the book shut .It couldn’t be.  The pages had been yellowed the handwriting faded. Something from the past, she told herself from when people believed in such things.  She reached for her tea and holding with both hands she turned her back on the books. The aroma from the blue cup comforted her, as did the tea itself. But the yellow up had held toxic brews according the voice. The voice what was up with that?  This entire place was beginning to give her real shivers. What had Aunt Tabby been and what was up with the house. Putting down the cup she went out the door with cats twining between her feet and walked toward the house. It was time for answers.

Just as she reached the kitchen door, the voice spoke again.” Be careful. You are being challenged. Fear not I am with you but I have limited power to help.”  Hanna shook her head to banish the voice. It was not normal to have such a powerful voice from nowhere, and she wondered if she was imagining it to help cope with the questions she had about the house and her aunt.

Barid was leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands when she entered the kitchen. His long lean frame seemed totally relaxed. She walked over to the coffee pot to find it empty. “Great, empty and I want a cup.” she muttered.

“ Not empty—never used.” Barid said with amusement.

“ So did you use magic to brew yours?” she snapped.

“ Nope. French press and there is a cup left.” He answered and moved aside so she could see the press on the counter.  She reached for a mug and poured the coffee savoring the aroma. 

Several moments of silence followed. Hanna thought about all the events at the house and questions she wanted answered. Turning to Barid she asked, “ The house chooses but how does one know if they are chosen?”

“I am from here and Tabby was always in residence during my life. I only know what I have heard in tales. It boils down to two or three things and how they manifest themselves differ for each owner. First it is a question of power. Does the person have any and then does he accept it? Second, if power is there how will the person use it? It must be for the good of all and not for personal gain or revenge and third when challenged will the house help the person win the challenge?”

“Great. I have no answers for those things yet.”  Hanna responded looking at her nearly empty cup.

“ You must have power as the cats have accepted you and cats do not bond in this house with powerless people, you just have to find your talent and use it. “

“Mercy says she has power only to do domestic things. Do you have powers?”

“ My power is.”  but his response was interrupted by a knock on the door. The cats ran from the kitchen and satin the hall facing the door mewling loudly. Hanna and Barid followed.

“Hanna, do not trust what you see. Trouble comes in many forms. I feel this may be a challenge for you. Perhaps an answer is coming.”  Warned Barid as he turned and left her alone with the protesting cats.

Staring at the door and the cats, Hanna was puzzled at the arched backs and hissing form the pair. No one had knocked, again and no noise was coming from outside the door. Hanna stood on tiptoe to look out of a peephole to see what was on her doorstep. Just as she caught sight of a person going away from her yard, Imp and Callie relaxed their backs and became quiet.

Chapter  4

During the rest of the week Hanna found herself spending more time in the small herb filled shed. She mixed herbs for teas and extracted oils to refilled bottles.  None of these skills had been learned in her other life and she could not say she was learning now. She just knew what went with what and how to mix them. Something in her soul seemed to respond to the shed’s contents and wanted to put them to use. Once in awhile she looked at the old recipe book to guide her but she avoided the one that  alluded to magical uses  for the mixtures.

She was content   with the work in the shed, but somewhere in the back of her mind or was it her heart a  foreboding lurked. She felt something was about to challenge her in some way. Whenever the feeling surfaced, she would recall Barid’s warning only to shake it off. She was coming to love the old house and its lands. She felt herself taking root and changing. She worried less about her broken marriage and her lost career. Her legacy from Tabby had allowed her to be secure but the feeling of belonging went beyond living in the house and knowing money was not a problem.

Mercy and Barid watched her and sensed her growing bond.  They were waiting for her to realize that her powers were growing. They kept silent as words could not convince her. It would take some event that would create the final awakening. They felt it had to come soon for like Hanna they felt the sense of a challenge for the house and land was growing, and it was not a pleasant feeling. Imp and Callie would be quiet  purring cats only to jump up to prowl the house , backs humped and hissing. Mercy and Barid  watched the cats knowing they were signaling  danger , but Hanna  did not seem to notice.

The awakening came with an ordinary event one morning. Walking to the shed, Hanna heard a mewling in the thick lavender bordering the path. Leaning down she found a small dog with its golden fur blood stained and a leg at an odd angle.  Suddenly Imp and Callie were beside her and Barid came down the path as if he had been called.

“You called me?” he queried.

Hanna looked at him. She had not called, but she had thought he could help her. Had he heard her thoughts? She did not answer him but dipping her head she indicated the quivering pup at her knees. 

“ Help me. Can you bring him to the shed?”

Once there Hanna worked without thinking. Warm water appeared, and she washed the small wound and bound it with herbs.  She took the leg in her hands intending to set it but the voice prompted a chant in her mind. Hanna voiced it as she touched the broken limb:

    This bone please heal, As it was, let it be. Cure the harm done to thee. Do no harm. So mote it be. The bone moved under her hands which had become very warm and with a snap it was in place. The pup shook and stood up on its hind legs to lick Hanna’s chin.

“ Barid, did I ….?”

“ Yes.”

“How, how could I”

“ You know. Just think about it, Hanna. Accept it. You are a healer.”

Hanna held the pup who curled in her arms sleep. Her words came back to her as she reviewed the past few minutes and let the events sink in. She felt confused but aware of a new depth to her life. She did not notice Baird leaving or the cats curling to sleep at her feet. She just sat holding the sleeping dog replaying how she had worked with him. Not once had she doubted what she should do, she had just done it.

“That’s correct, Hanna. You have power and it is healing. Now  you must accept or reject it.”, the soft voice whispered in her ear. She could feel the breath of the speaker brush her cheek but turning toward the source no one was there. She, the pup, and two purring cats were the only ones in the herb shed.  Hanna shivered ,She knew  the voice was real and not just a mental image. “Who?”  she voiced not realizing she had spoken out loud.

“ The house. I am the house.” ,came the reply.

“ The house? Houses can not speak.”

“ But when you have found your power, you can hear me.  Accept your power to heal or reject it. I, the house, have accepted you, but you have the final choice. Yet, if you accept realize others wish to live with in me and you will be challenged.”

 Hanna started to rise but when she put the pup down it ran in circles as if it had not been hurt. She looked at the small bit of yellow fluff circling her feet and harassing the two cats. May be she did have power she thought walking to the kitchen door. “Power or not, I am happy here, and I choose to stay.” Her thought was no sooner voiced, and the house seemed to come alive. All the closed drapes opened, and doors opened to welcome Hanna , the cats and the pup.

Chapter five

Mercy  felt the change in the house the next morning as she entered the kitchen. It felt bigger ,more open, the way it had been when Tabby had lived there She knew at that moment Hanna  had accepted the house and her talent and the house had welcomed its new owner. Smiling at the change, she began  breakfast.

Hanna walked in moments later with Imp, Callie and a small yellow pup running between her feet.  Smiling as she avoided tripping or stepping on the animals she  walked to the table and sat down.  Mercy  filled a mug with coffee and plunked it down.

“So you are here to stay.” She stated with a smile at Hanna.

“Yes, it feels right, and I think I might …I might actually have some talent as a healer. But at the moment,  this pup needs a name.”

Mercy looked at the pup laying at Hanna’s feet. She realized the name was a ploy to avoid talking of powers and was content to play along. She watched his tail wagging happy attitude. The cats seemed to accept him as an equal and that indicated he had a place in the house for good.

“Well, Mercy, do you have any ideas?”,  Hanna asked.

“ He is happy, golden and male. I am not sure I have an idea . Do you?”

“ Yesterday, he was not well and had a broken limb. I …I healed him. Afterwards I  knew I belonged here; that I had power.  I decided to stay and the house changed. I saw it change. It seemed to come alive , to expand. I can not explain but the house changed. Lazarus? Shall we call him Lazarus?”

“ That would signal a return to life. Maybe but pretty serious for a pup. Don’t you think?”

“Maybe.  Golden  and beautiful. Adonis?”

“ Pretty classical. How about Oro, Spanish for gold.”

“Short and on point. Oro . You are now Oro.” Hanna spoke to the pup as she reached down to pet him.

Mercy watched Hanna and the pup. A third familiar was not unheard for a witch but it was rare for  a dog to bond with a witch. Cats, crows, and monkeys which were half imps were common but dogs. Still dogs were loyal creatures and not given to evil unless trained to be so. Still she was going to be on alert until she knew  the pup bode no evil to Hanna or the house. She would warn Barid also. Shaking the darkness from her mind, she thought about the fact that house had shown itself open even with the pup near Hanna and that was good thing.

 At the far edge of the  village  in a cottage overhung with vines and surrounded by a garden of  nettles and foxglove, Astrid  paced  in front of her mirror.  She was not happy and it showed in every step. The house had opened.  She sensed its acceptance of the intruder, Hanna. The house should be hers. Her lineage had been among the early residents of the house. Never mind that her ancestors had been sent away because they advocated revenge on those who were hanging witches. The silly words “ so harm none”  even today  were inane. Witches should use their powers in whatever way  benefitted them. A little dark arts could be a good thing.

Turning  quickly she went to her distillery where she could plan. It was easier to plan  amongst  her plants and herbs, and she needed to plan. She had to take  over the house. It was rightfully hers. She had almost convinced Tabby she was the choice , but Tabby had found out she made poppets for clients, brewed potions that made people ill and at times possibly more than ill though she never asked clients the intended use..  Asked to leave ,she had made the old fool promise not to tell anyone why. That ought to help ,as Barid and Mercy were unaware of her true nature. She actually cackled at the reassurance that fact gave her. She smiled at the sound. After all true witches cackled, everyone knew that.

.

‘

  

          Hanna pulled the bright yellow bug to the side of the road and checked her GPS once again. This was not a road; it was two ruts running through a wood.  The GPS still said turn here. Shrugging her shoulders, Hanna started the car and turned.

          Bumping along the trail, she kept   her eyes peeled for a simple cottage that was her new home. Once again she could not believe she had inherited a cottage and an annual income from an Aunt Tabby whose existence   was a secret her mother took with her to the grave.  Yet, it had come at the right moment to revive her after a bitter divorce, which had also cost her job as a librarian in the small Kansas town, which had been her lifelong home. Now she was the owner of a house in New England on the Atlantic coast near the Canadian border with an income, which meant she no longer had to work, plus an account to maintain the property.

          The male voice of GPS indicated another left turn, which broke her thoughts, as a break in the trees widened and a house came into view. It was two stories built of stone with attic dormer windows,

          Could this be the house? If so, it was not her idea of a stone cottage or the saltbox and cedar shingled home she expected.  It sat near a cliff and the Atlantic could be seen and heard hitting the grey stone at the beach below. Hanna stopped the car as the GPS announced ‘you are here”. 

            Hanna walked to the door. A brass next to the door read Seacliff cottage. Foundation laid in 1640.  This was indeed her new home.

          Hanna looked for the iron frog which held the house key and found it nearly hidden by the dried up sedum plantings. Lifting it she shook until the key fell into her hand and putting it in the lock opened the door to her new life. She expected cobwebs and dust as the lawyer had said Tabby had been ill for years, but the hall was pristine and furniture shone with recent polishing. Fresh flowers were in an aged crackled jug on the table and there was a note propped next to it.

                      Hanna,

                      Welcome to Sea Cliff. I am so glad that once again the house will live. My name is Mercy and I took the liberty of cleaning it and stocking the pantry and refrigerator once I knew you arrival date. Tabby taught me much about herbs and such and I feel I have repaid part of what I owe her by doing this.

          I have also brought you a house cat as Seacliff always has had one and there seemed to be a mousey invasion in progress. She is a calico and oh by the way she is expecting. Seacliff kittens are always in demand in the village so relax.

          The journals on the desk are the history of the house. I do hope you will read them. I will be over in a day or so to meet you.

          Mercy Good. 


Intrigued by the note and how this Mercy knew about her, Hanna was relieved not to have to hunt a grocer this first day. Another blessing was the house came fully furnished so no shopping until she wanted change and knew what it would be.  Before she brought in her baggage, she decided to walk through her new home. The lower rooms were large and lit by windows and showed their older roots as each held a large fireplace and broad planked floors of yellow pine. The staircase to the upper floors was wider than normal in an older home so it had to been added later as had the upper story. Each of the bedchambers again had a fireplace, but the windows were larger and the glass no longer had blowers’ marks. Hanna felt she had to read the journals to know the history of the house. Finally approaching the attic door, which she attempted to open, but it was locked. She made a mental note to ask this Mercy person for a key.

          Dusk was falling when she went downstairs and went to the kitchen. The stainless steel appliances looked odd in a room that still had a spitted fireplace and a brick oven, but somehow the result was pleasant. A huge red ware bowl on the counter held apples of all colors, and the refrigerator was stocked with milk, water, sliced meat and cheese.  Cupboards held cereals, spices, and other staples. Mercy had been efficient and Hanna was happy with the welcome the woman had prepared.

          Leaning back against the counter Hanna relaxed as she ate a quick sandwich and waited for coffee to brew, she once again wondered how an unknown aunt had found her and provided for her. Life had not been easy the past year. Patrick her love of her life partner had not shared the idea of eternal faithfulness as she found out when she caught him on top of his married assistant principal who was on top of his wide administrator ‘s desk, and he was bitter, mean and resentful of her decision not to be satisfied with the status quo. Popular in their small Kansas town where he was a homegrown leader, she became an outcast and a school board did not renew her teaching contract whose head was Patrick’s uncle? She had managed to keep the bug and half the money from the house sale but six months later the money was low and no job was in sight. Facing an unknown future, the telephone call from her Aunt’s lawyer three weeks ago had been a ray of sunshine breaking the gloom on her life. Now she was here and ready to move on.

          The sound of footfalls above her broke the reverie just as something jumped on her shoulder.  A meow announced the arrival of the house cat that proceeded to wrap her warm body around Hanna’s neck for a few minutes before she flew to the floor to pace in front of Hanna. Mewling as she walked the cat wen from Hanna to the door and back again.

          “What is it kitty? What do you want? Is something at the door?”

          The mewling went higher in pitch and louder. Hanna went to the door and opened it, and a huge silver tabby waited there. Walking in the tabby called to the smaller calico and the cats began a dance of sorts rubbing an entwining tails while purring loudly. Hanna had to laugh at their antics until tabby sat in front of her as if to assess her.

          “Okay, you are welcome here.”  Hanna announced and the two cats took off in a game of tag me that seemed fated to cover the entire house. Still smiling Hanna went to get her baggage from her car. She stepped outside and was stopped by a large man at the door with her bags in hand.  He walked into the house and turned.” You will be in the east room.” He announced and then went up the stairs. Hanna followed confused at this incident.

          “Who are you?  Why the east room? I rather like the one with the windows to the south,”

          “Owners always stay it the east room. It is the biggest.”

          “That makes sense, but just who are you?”

          “Barid. I live in the guesthouse in the rear. Did they not tell you about me?”

          “No. There was no mention of you or a woman called Mercy in the information given to me.”

          “Just as well. Too much is as dangerous as too little.” He offered as he turned, left the room, went down the stairs and out the door. Hanna followed asking questions, which were ignored. When the door closed, she shrugged and decided it could all wait until tomorrow, but she shot the lock on both doors. 
 . . .. 
The east room was large but dominated by a bed that looked as if it was from the earliest era of the house, but the sheets were clean an scented with lavender as indeed the entire room was. She walked to the deep welled window and knelt on the window seat to look at the night sky. The clouds were moving rapidly dark fluffs against the silver lit sky behind them. The trees stretched their barren limbs to scratch the air though there was no breeze. There was a golden light from the only guesthouse window she could see. Turning from the view she went to the bed and climbed under the down filled quilt, but sleep was not quick to come.

           Hanna awoke with a start. Something had touched her hair in a caress. She felt no threat but the sense of being touched filled her with curiosity. Looking around the room she noticed both cats curled on the bed near her feet. Perhaps it had been one of them as they settled in, but she doubted it, as the touch seemed made by long fingers gently stroking her hair.  Shaking her head she laid down dismissing it as a dream—a too real dream. This time sleep was quick and deep.

          The morning light and soft pawing of the cats woke her.  At her stirring the cats jumped off the bed, and tails in the air walked to the door. Stopping there they turned and yowled at her.  Hanna smiled at their plea for her to follow. ”Alright, I get the message. Breakfast for you; coffee for me”

          Pulling on a robe, Hanna became aware of someone in the house. Soft singing and dishes clattering   were coming from the kitchen. Now what Hanna thought as she went downstairs and went to the kitchen where a plump redhead was stirring something on the stove.  Both cats were weaving between her feet. She leaned forward to pat them.

          “Imp so you have decided. You will stay here. Well, it is the nature of you blacks. You choose your domain not us.  Call, you will be happy with him here, will you?”

          “Imp? Call?  They are named already?   And who the heck are you?”

          “Mercy Good. And the cats are not named; they choose their own names. It has been ever so, Hanna Proctor.”

          “Cats name themselves?” Hanna sat with a surprised thump on a stool near the table.

          “Oh yes. Have you not noticed they refuse to come until you say the right one?   I have coddled eggs here and toast. Coffee is done. “

           Thanks, I think.  Sorry, but why is you here making breakfast?”

          “It is what I do. Oh, they did not tell about me then.  I was a woman of all things for your Aunt. She asked me to stay on until you adjusted. “

          “Adjusted?”

          “To life at Sea cliff.”

          “What?”

          Mercy stopped stirring and looked at Hanna for a few moments and changed the subject as she plopped a plate of eggs, ham and toast. “You have met Barid then?”

          “Barid, well, he carried my bags up to the east room though I wanted the south. Then he gave me his name and not much more.”

          “That is our Barid. He is private but Miss Tabby liked him well enough?”

          “Enough for what? She was well over eighty and he is what? Early forties?”

          Mercy laughed. ”No not like you might think, but he is a local lad home from that Afghani war. It worked a bad magic on him; it did. Then he got home to find his Mother passed on while he traveled to get here. Not that they were close but still. Anyway he was in a bad way, and your aunt offered him the guesthouse. It has peace, quiet and no demands. She hoped it might heal what she knew was a wounded soul. Miss Tabby had a healing touch among other talents.”

          “So he pays rent?”

          “Of course not. Did you not hear me say no demands? He does do the odd chore or so.”

          Mercy turned to load a dishwasher ending the questions. Hanna attacked the plate of food lost in thought. Carrying her dish to Mercy, she ventures one more question.”  You said my aunt had talents. Did she paint, write or what?”

          “None of those. She, she. To tell the truth she made me promise to let the house teach you the truth of her life and of your family.”  Whipping off her apron Mercy walked to the door. ”I will be back after I go to the market for supper. Listen to the house. It is longing to bloom again.”

          Listen to the house now what does that mean Hanna wondered?  How could a house talk? Why would Mercy not share what she knew? Hanna went to the stack of journals.

          Determined to begin at the beginning Hanna searched through the stack looking for a journal from 1640 the earliest date of the house but the earliest journal found began in 1693. Taking it to a window for light she sat and began to decipher the faded ink’s feather y script.

                      Sept 30 1693

                      On this several relatives and friends moved to house I should call Seacliff, which has become my home.

                      The original hose is gone but some ten years ago longing for solitude and peace from misguided neighbors, my Uncle Endeavor bought the land and erected this house to which I have add a second story ad a smaller outbuilding of one story called the cottage. When he died some two years ago childless, my husband was his heir. Matthew was a Bishop from Salem but not of the more known Bishops still tis not a good name to have at this time. Never strong the recent happenings in Salem drained his strength, and he now lies in the parlor awaiting tomorrow’s burial. Jacob Proctor, Anne Good and her brother Timothy sit with his remains as I record the story of our exodus.

                      Last spring the word witchcraft became a scourge in Salem and it has recently been proven that many false accusations were made. Wrongs were done. Jacob had a brother John by his father’s second wife who was hung; Anne and timothy lost the aunt that had mothered them until her mind snapped with age. And even more. My family was spared but I do think had they looked closer at my practice of herbal cures and midwifery, I like my great aunt Rebecca Nurse who taught me was executed during the fire of the moment would have been called out.  Matthew sensing the passion of the silly girls began plans to move us to this house in the woods he had had from his uncle.

          We removed ourselves here in early June of this year. But selling his tannery, packing our goods and planning the move to this place while telling no one of its exact location sapped the savor of the man and never was he strong to begin with.  He sickened in July and naught that I brewed could revive his body or his spirit. He passed late last night and this this morning those that now sit with him knocked on our door. They asked asylum as he had promised them.

          So we will bide here away from the turmoil of the world and by the goddess we will prosper, as we must for I am with child. So mote it is. Mary Nurse Bishop, widow of Matthew.

          Mercy appeared at the door interrupting Hanna’s reading. She began to bustle around the room dusting things that need to be dusted. Finally she stopped beside Hanna waiting. Hanna recognized a busybody when she saw one and was tempted to leave the room but she did have questions.

          “Mercy, I could read these journals for a spotty history of the house as there gaps of years here. But I feel you can tell me what I should know about the house and the families that lived here.”

          “I can but I promised Tabby I’d not say a thing unless asked a direct question and there will be some things you need to learn by living here,”

          “Ok here is a direct question. Your name and my name and the people in the book are all tied to the Salem witchcraft trials, am I right?”

          “Yes, they were refugees from the trials. Those trials were so wrong and many innocents were put to death. You and I are descended from these families as is Braid.”

          “You are a Good, I am a Proctor and Barid is a”

          “Bishop.”

          “So what can you tell me now that I have asked a question?  Do not break your promise as that seems important.”

          “Yes an oath made to a  ...to Tabby is not given lightly and should be kept.  You read the first entry or two rights? So I feel I can tell you about your new home.”











          “ It was built around 1622 by a recluse who left the Bay colony as it was not to his taste .He lived here alone, but in following years it became as you have been reading a refuge of those whom the witch trials sought or whose families had been touched by the tragedy of the times.  Since then the house has passed down in your family but not everyone who held title to the house and land could live here. It was if the house rejected some people and welcomed others who once welcomed lived extraordinary long lives.”

“ The house chooses who lives here?” Hanna broke in. “just how does one know if the house has chosen them?”

           After a moment of thought, Mercy replied.” I really do not know how the house let its will be known, but Tabby was accepted before I was born so I have not seen it reject an owner. Nor before you ask, I do not know how long a person has to wait to know. I just know that the house chooses and those it chooses have powers.”

          “Powers, Mercy?”

           “Tabby was brilliant with herbs--- growing and using them. Her mother had the sight. I believe, but perhaps I am wrong, that it is those who have no power or who do not accept those they have, they are the ones, which are rejected. None who have lived here as you will read have been without power of some sort.”

    “And me?”  Hanna said “ power? Do I have Power?”

    Mercy stopped on her way out f the room and turned to Hanna. “ The house will know.”

CHAPTER 2

   During next few days, Mercy bustled in and out without taking much time to chat, and Barid just did not chat. So exploring the house and gardens filled Hanna’s days an the nights were devoted to the journals which not long after the first few entries become a listing of income and out go with no hints of power, acceptance or rejection.    The house had rooms and the rooms had crannies and nooks.  Hanna wondered through them marveling at furnishings still intact from its beginning until present day. An antique dealer would have a heyday here she thought touching an armoire in the east room as she hung her clothes in I, but she knew nothing would leave the house as long as she owned it.

The gardens were however her happy place. Ancient roses and patterned herb plots lived happily next to wild profusions of country garden staples such as hollyhocks, foxglove, daisies and lavender which was also an herb.  There was even a stone circle in the eastern near the cliff edge, which caught the light of the rising sun, but she was continually drawn to the small stone cottage near Braid’s guesthouse. Its rafters were hand hewn and hung with drying herbs.  Jars held dried raised petals, lavender buds, and various seeds all carefully labeled.  Mortars and pestles   stood ready to be used on a long worktable under the window.  The aromas and the snugness of the cottage called to Hanna, and once she discovered it, she found herself spending hours there memorizing the contents then spending the evenings researching the history and uses of the herbs it contained. She had nothing to do but what she wanted to do and for now that contented her for now though she knew that it would not last.

Monday of her third week she wondered down to the kitchen in search of wakeup coffee and one of Mercy’s bran muffins and found Mercy in serious conversation with the cats She stood at the doorway and eavesdropped in plain sight.

  “  Yes I know you two approve, but the house is not speaking yet, How will know when it does accept or reject? I took us two years to find Hanna what if she is not the one?” Low meows answered Mercy’s questions. Hanna was about to break into the conversation when Barid burst in.

 “ So Mercy, have the familiars weighed in and,” he stopped when he saw Hanna in the doorway.

 “Familiars? Like witches have?” Hanna asked stepping into the kitchen. Barid and Mercy exchanged glances.

“ Yes, the house always has two cats and they need to accept the owners or they leave. These two have been here longer than most with some new owners. Tabby was told me that there somewhere in the journal a list of cats and owners both accepted and rejected.”

“ So were these here with Aunt Tabby?”

 “No.”

“ She did not have familiars---err cats.”

“Oh she had cats, “Mercy broke in. “ But they … they”

Barid   broke in. “Tell her Mercy.”

“ They left when she passed.” Mercy finished.

Hanna walked out of the room without a backward glance. Mercy looked at Barid.” Well! Now she knows.”

Barid shrugged his shoulders and said “ but will she believe?

Chapter 3 

Hanna avoided Mercy and Barid for several days. Even tried to avoid the two cats, but that impossible. Even when she thought she had left them, they would suddenly appear to wrap themselves around her feet. She knew she avoiding facing the truth she felt in what Mercy and Barid had said in the kitchen that morning. Mercy sensed her need to be alone and meal trays arrived wherever she was with a small popping sound. That alone gave some reality to the magic powers.

On the fifth day since they had hinted at her powers, it rained. The grey, soft, cold New England rain shrouded the house in a veil of mist. Hanna wanted to go to the herb hut but the rain seemed designed to keep her inside. Pulling the curtains of the parlor’s bay window, she stared at the rain wishing it away.

“ Go ahead. Go out to the herbs. They need you. You will not get wet. I promise.”  A soft voice spoke to Hanna and an unseen hand, turned her way from the window towards the hallway. Hanna turned but no one was there. She paused at the doorway shaking her head. Then again she heard “Go on.”  

Without thinking Hanna went down the all and out the door. The mizzle fell all round her but not a drop fell on her hair or body. She walked to the herb house as if protected by a large umbrella while wondering why the word mizzle had sprung into her thoughts. Then she was there and once in the door, she felt welcomed and comforted.

 Without thinking about it she reached for the mortar and pestle ready make some tea.  Her mother had made herb teas, and now Hanna wanted a cup of the comfort tea her mother had blended when things seemed unsettled. What her mother used?

 “ Chamomile” The word seemed to come from nowhere. Hanna glanced around the room. No one was there. She reached for the jar labeled chamomile. ‘’ Lavender calms.” The voice suggested and this time Hanna did not survey the room as she added lavender to the mortar and began to blend the dried blossoms.

 Putting the water to boil on the electric burner, Hanna felt the cats winding around her ankles. She was sure she had shut the door against the rain. She glanced toward it.  It was closed. How had the furry companions come in? Had the door swung open with the wind gusts and then shut once again? Surely it would have banged and she would have heard it.

The whistling of the kettle broke into her thoughts. Lifting a cup from the shelf to make tea, the voice stopped her.  “ Not that one. I used it for toxic brews. The yellow color was the reminder.”  Hanna replaced the cup on another shelf to avoid selecting it again and reached for a bright blue one as the voice whispered, “ That was my favorite.” Without pausing she set the tea to brew and began for the first time to look more closely at what she thought of her haven in her new life.  Two cats tail swishing followed her as she walked around the room until suddenly both felines walked in front of her and sat.  Hanna stopped and was about to go around the living roadblock when Callie jumped up on the counter followed by Imp meowing loudly.

Hanna looked at the two cats and then realized they were directly in front of a cupboard that she had yet to open. Imp turned to her walked over and rubbed himself against her chest and then immediately went to set in front of the cupboard pawing t its doors. Intrigued by the feline antics, Hanna pulled the doors open to find leather bound books resting on the shelves.  The binding matched the journals she had been reading but these books were both larger in size and thicker. She pulled one toward her and opened it randomly. It was a recipe for a tisane and as she read Hanna realized it was a tea such as she had just brewed, but this was aimed at soothing a sore throat. Innocent herbal remedies, Hanna thought putting the book back. She turned to get her tea when Callie pawed a book from the shelf. It fell open on the counter. Hanna gasped when she saw the words; Spells to accompany tisanes. The spidery script was faded and hard to read but the words so mote it be and do harm to none stood out.

She snapped the book shut .It couldn’t be.  The pages had been yellowed the handwriting faded. Something from the past, she told herself from when people believed in such things.  She reached for her tea and holding with both hands she turned her back on the books. The aroma from the blue cup comforted her, as did the tea itself. But the yellow up had held toxic brews according the voice. The voice what was up with that?  This entire place was beginning to give her real shivers. What had Aunt Tabby been and what was up with the house. Putting down the cup she went out the door with cats twining between her feet and walked toward the house. It was time for answers.

Just as she reached the kitchen door, the voice spoke again.” Be careful. You are being challenged. Fear not I am with you but I have limited power to help.”  Hanna shook her head to banish the voice. It was not normal to have such a powerful voice from nowhere, and she wondered if she was imagining it to help cope with the questions she had about the house and her aunt.

Barid was leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands when she entered the kitchen. His long lean frame seemed totally relaxed. She walked over to the coffee pot to find it empty. “Great, empty and I want a cup.” she muttered.

“ Not empty—never used.” Barid said with amusement.

“ So did you use magic to brew yours?” she snapped.

“ Nope. French press and there is a cup left.” He answered and moved aside so she could see the press on the counter.  She reached for a mug and poured the coffee savoring the aroma. 

Several moments of silence followed. Hanna thought about all the events at the house and questions she wanted answered. Turning to Barid she asked, “ The house chooses but how does one know if they are chosen?”

“I am from here and Tabby was always in residence during my life. I only know what I have heard in tales. It boils down to two or three things and how they manifest themselves differ for each owner. First it is a question of power. Does the person have any and then does he accept it? Second, if power is there how will the person use it? It must be for the good of all and not for personal gain or revenge and third when challenged will the house help the person win the challenge?”

“Great. I have no answers for those things yet.”  Hanna responded looking at her nearly empty cup.

“ You must have power as the cats have accepted you and cats do not bond in this house with powerless people, you just have to find your talent and use it. “

“Mercy says she has power only to do domestic things. Do you have powers?”

“ My power is.”  but his response was interrupted by a knock on the door. The cats ran from the kitchen and satin the hall facing the door mewling loudly. Hanna and Barid followed.

“Hanna, do not trust what you see. Trouble comes in many forms. I feel this may be a challenge for you. Perhaps an answer is coming.”  Warned Barid as he turned and left her alone with the protesting cats.

Staring at the door and the cats, Hanna was puzzled at the arched backs and hissing form the pair. No one had knocked, again and no noise was coming from outside the door. Hanna stood on tiptoe to look out of a peephole to see what was on her doorstep. Just as she caught sight of a person going away from her yard, Imp and Callie relaxed their backs and became quiet.

Chapter  4

During the rest of the week Hanna found herself spending more time in the small herb filled shed. She mixed herbs for teas and extracted oils to refilled bottles.  None of these skills had been learned in her other life and she could not say she was learning now. She just knew what went with what and how to mix them. Something in her soul seemed to respond to the shed’s contents and wanted to put them to use. Once in awhile she looked at the old recipe book to guide her but she avoided the one that  alluded to magical uses  for the mixtures.

She was content   with the work in the shed, but somewhere in the back of her mind or was it her heart a  foreboding lurked. She felt something was about to challenge her in some way. Whenever the feeling surfaced, she would recall Barid’s warning only to shake it off. She was coming to love the old house and its lands. She felt herself taking root and changing. She worried less about her broken marriage and her lost career. Her legacy from Tabby had allowed her to be secure but the feeling of belonging went beyond living in the house and knowing money was not a problem.

Mercy and Barid watched her and sensed her growing bond.  They were waiting for her to realize that her powers were growing. They kept silent as words could not convince her. It would take some event that would create the final awakening. They felt it had to come soon for like Hanna they felt the sense of a challenge for the house and land was growing, and it was not a pleasant feeling. Imp and Callie would be quiet  purring cats only to jump up to prowl the house , backs humped and hissing. Mercy and Barid  watched the cats knowing they were signaling  danger , but Hanna  did not seem to notice.

The awakening came with an ordinary event one morning. Walking to the shed, Hanna heard a mewling in the thick lavender bordering the path. Leaning down she found a small dog with its golden fur blood stained and a leg at an odd angle.  Suddenly Imp and Callie were beside her and Barid came down the path as if he had been called.

“You called me?” he queried.

Hanna looked at him. She had not called, but she had thought he could help her. Had he heard her thoughts? She did not answer him but dipping her head she indicated the quivering pup at her knees. 

“ Help me. Can you bring him to the shed?”

Once there Hanna worked without thinking. Warm water appeared, and she washed the small wound and bound it with herbs.  She took the leg in her hands intending to set it but the voice prompted a chant in her mind. Hanna voiced it as she touched the broken limb:

    This bone please heal, As it was, let it be. Cure the harm done to thee. Do no harm. So mote it be. The bone moved under her hands which had become very warm and with a snap it was in place. The pup shook and stood up on its hind legs to lick Hanna’s chin.

“ Barid, did I ….?”

“ Yes.”

“How, how could I”

“ You know. Just think about it, Hanna. Accept it. You are a healer.”

Hanna held the pup who curled in her arms sleep. Her words came back to her as she reviewed the past few minutes and let the events sink in. She felt confused but aware of a new depth to her life. She did not notice Baird leaving or the cats curling to sleep at her feet. She just sat holding the sleeping dog replaying how she had worked with him. Not once had she doubted what she should do, she had just done it.

“That’s correct, Hanna. You have power and it is healing. Now  you must accept or reject it.”, the soft voice whispered in her ear. She could feel the breath of the speaker brush her cheek but turning toward the source no one was there. She, the pup, and two purring cats were the only ones in the herb shed.  Hanna shivered ,She knew  the voice was real and not just a mental image. “Who?”  she voiced not realizing she had spoken out loud.

“ The house. I am the house.” ,came the reply.

“ The house? Houses can not speak.”

“ But when you have found your power, you can hear me.  Accept your power to heal or reject it. I, the house, have accepted you, but you have the final choice. Yet, if you accept realize others wish to live with in me and you will be challenged.”

 Hanna started to rise but when she put the pup down it ran in circles as if it had not been hurt. She looked at the small bit of yellow fluff circling her feet and harassing the two cats. May be she did have power she thought walking to the kitchen door. “Power or not, I am happy here, and I choose to stay.” Her thought was no sooner voiced, and the house seemed to come alive. All the closed drapes opened, and doors opened to welcome Hanna , the cats and the pup.

Chapter five

Mercy  felt the change in the house the next morning as she entered the kitchen. It felt bigger ,more open, the way it had been when Tabby had lived there She knew at that moment Hanna  had accepted the house and her talent and the house had welcomed its new owner. Smiling at the change, she began  breakfast.

Hanna walked in moments later with Imp, Callie and a small yellow pup running between her feet.  Smiling as she avoided tripping or stepping on the animals she  walked to the table and sat down.  Mercy  filled a mug with coffee and plunked it down.

“So you are here to stay.” She stated with a smile at Hanna.

“Yes, it feels right, and I think I might …I might actually have some talent as a healer. But at the moment,  this pup needs a name.”

Mercy looked at the pup laying at Hanna’s feet. She realized the name was a ploy to avoid talking of powers and was content to play along. She watched his tail wagging happy attitude. The cats seemed to accept him as an equal and that indicated he had a place in the house for good.

“Well, Mercy, do you have any ideas?”,  Hanna asked.

“ He is happy, golden and male. I am not sure I have an idea . Do you?”

“ Yesterday, he was not well and had a broken limb. I …I healed him. Afterwards I  knew I belonged here; that I had power.  I decided to stay and the house changed. I saw it change. It seemed to come alive , to expand. I can not explain but the house changed. Lazarus? Shall we call him Lazarus?”

“ That would signal a return to life. Maybe but pretty serious for a pup. Don’t you think?”

“Maybe.  Golden  and beautiful. Adonis?”

“ Pretty classical. How about Oro, Spanish for gold.”

“Short and on point. Oro . You are now Oro.” Hanna spoke to the pup as she reached down to pet him.

Mercy watched Hanna and the pup. A third familiar was not unheard for a witch but it was rare for  a dog to bond with a witch. Cats, crows, and monkeys which were half imps were common but dogs. Still dogs were loyal creatures and not given to evil unless trained to be so. Still she was going to be on alert until she knew  the pup bode no evil to Hanna or the house. She would warn Barid also. Shaking the darkness from her mind, she thought about the fact that house had shown itself open even with the pup near Hanna and that was good thing.

 At the far edge of the  village  in a cottage overhung with vines and surrounded by a garden of  nettles and foxglove, Astrid  paced  in front of her mirror.  She was not happy and it showed in every step. The house had opened.  She sensed its acceptance of the intruder, Hanna. The house should be hers. Her lineage had been among the early residents of the house. Never mind that her ancestors had been sent away because they advocated revenge on those who were hanging witches. The silly words “ so harm none”  even today  were inane. Witches should use their powers in whatever way  benefitted them. A little dark arts could be a good thing.

Turning  quickly she went to her distillery where she could plan. It was easier to plan  amongst  her plants and herbs, and she needed to plan. She had to take  over the house. It was rightfully hers. She had almost convinced Tabby she was the choice , but Tabby had found out she made poppets for clients, brewed potions that made people ill and at times possibly more than ill though she never asked clients the intended use..  Asked to leave ,she had made the old fool promise not to tell anyone why. That ought to help ,as Barid and Mercy were unaware of her true nature. She actually cackled at the reassurance that fact gave her. She smiled at the sound. After all true witches cackled, everyone knew that.

.

‘

  

          Hanna pulled the bright yellow bug to the side of the road and checked her GPS once again. This was not a road; it was two ruts running through a wood.  The GPS still said turn here. Shrugging her shoulders, Hanna started the car and turned.

          Bumping along the trail, she kept   her eyes peeled for a simple cottage that was her new home. Once again she could not believe she had inherited a cottage and an annual income from an Aunt Tabby whose existence   was a secret her mother took with her to the grave.  Yet, it had come at the right moment to revive her after a bitter divorce, which had also cost her job as a librarian in the small Kansas town, which had been her lifelong home. Now she was the owner of a house in New England on the Atlantic coast near the Canadian border with an income, which meant she no longer had to work, plus an account to maintain the property.

          The male voice of GPS indicated another left turn, which broke her thoughts, as a break in the trees widened and a house came into view. It was two stories built of stone with attic dormer windows,

          Could this be the house? If so, it was not her idea of a stone cottage or the saltbox and cedar shingled home she expected.  It sat near a cliff and the Atlantic could be seen and heard hitting the grey stone at the beach below. Hanna stopped the car as the GPS announced ‘you are here”. 

            Hanna walked to the door. A brass next to the door read Seacliff cottage. Foundation laid in 1640.  This was indeed her new home.

          Hanna looked for the iron frog which held the house key and found it nearly hidden by the dried up sedum plantings. Lifting it she shook until the key fell into her hand and putting it in the lock opened the door to her new life. She expected cobwebs and dust as the lawyer had said Tabby had been ill for years, but the hall was pristine and furniture shone with recent polishing. Fresh flowers were in an aged crackled jug on the table and there was a note propped next to it.

                      Hanna,

                      Welcome to Sea Cliff. I am so glad that once again the house will live. My name is Mercy and I took the liberty of cleaning it and stocking the pantry and refrigerator once I knew you arrival date. Tabby taught me much about herbs and such and I feel I have repaid part of what I owe her by doing this.

          I have also brought you a house cat as Seacliff always has had one and there seemed to be a mousey invasion in progress. She is a calico and oh by the way she is expecting. Seacliff kittens are always in demand in the village so relax.

          The journals on the desk are the history of the house. I do hope you will read them. I will be over in a day or so to meet you.

          Mercy Good. 


Intrigued by the note and how this Mercy knew about her, Hanna was relieved not to have to hunt a grocer this first day. Another blessing was the house came fully furnished so no shopping until she wanted change and knew what it would be.  Before she brought in her baggage, she decided to walk through her new home. The lower rooms were large and lit by windows and showed their older roots as each held a large fireplace and broad planked floors of yellow pine. The staircase to the upper floors was wider than normal in an older home so it had to been added later as had the upper story. Each of the bedchambers again had a fireplace, but the windows were larger and the glass no longer had blowers’ marks. Hanna felt she had to read the journals to know the history of the house. Finally approaching the attic door, which she attempted to open, but it was locked. She made a mental note to ask this Mercy person for a key.

          Dusk was falling when she went downstairs and went to the kitchen. The stainless steel appliances looked odd in a room that still had a spitted fireplace and a brick oven, but somehow the result was pleasant. A huge red ware bowl on the counter held apples of all colors, and the refrigerator was stocked with milk, water, sliced meat and cheese.  Cupboards held cereals, spices, and other staples. Mercy had been efficient and Hanna was happy with the welcome the woman had prepared.

          Leaning back against the counter Hanna relaxed as she ate a quick sandwich and waited for coffee to brew, she once again wondered how an unknown aunt had found her and provided for her. Life had not been easy the past year. Patrick her love of her life partner had not shared the idea of eternal faithfulness as she found out when she caught him on top of his married assistant principal who was on top of his wide administrator ‘s desk, and he was bitter, mean and resentful of her decision not to be satisfied with the status quo. Popular in their small Kansas town where he was a homegrown leader, she became an outcast and a school board did not renew her teaching contract whose head was Patrick’s uncle? She had managed to keep the bug and half the money from the house sale but six months later the money was low and no job was in sight. Facing an unknown future, the telephone call from her Aunt’s lawyer three weeks ago had been a ray of sunshine breaking the gloom on her life. Now she was here and ready to move on.

          The sound of footfalls above her broke the reverie just as something jumped on her shoulder.  A meow announced the arrival of the house cat that proceeded to wrap her warm body around Hanna’s neck for a few minutes before she flew to the floor to pace in front of Hanna. Mewling as she walked the cat wen from Hanna to the door and back again.

          “What is it kitty? What do you want? Is something at the door?”

          The mewling went higher in pitch and louder. Hanna went to the door and opened it, and a huge silver tabby waited there. Walking in the tabby called to the smaller calico and the cats began a dance of sorts rubbing an entwining tails while purring loudly. Hanna had to laugh at their antics until tabby sat in front of her as if to assess her.

          “Okay, you are welcome here.”  Hanna announced and the two cats took off in a game of tag me that seemed fated to cover the entire house. Still smiling Hanna went to get her baggage from her car. She stepped outside and was stopped by a large man at the door with her bags in hand.  He walked into the house and turned.” You will be in the east room.” He announced and then went up the stairs. Hanna followed confused at this incident.

          “Who are you?  Why the east room? I rather like the one with the windows to the south,”

          “Owners always stay it the east room. It is the biggest.”

          “That makes sense, but just who are you?”

          “Barid. I live in the guesthouse in the rear. Did they not tell you about me?”

          “No. There was no mention of you or a woman called Mercy in the information given to me.”

          “Just as well. Too much is as dangerous as too little.” He offered as he turned, left the room, went down the stairs and out the door. Hanna followed asking questions, which were ignored. When the door closed, she shrugged and decided it could all wait until tomorrow, but she shot the lock on both doors. 
 . . .. 
The east room was large but dominated by a bed that looked as if it was from the earliest era of the house, but the sheets were clean an scented with lavender as indeed the entire room was. She walked to the deep welled window and knelt on the window seat to look at the night sky. The clouds were moving rapidly dark fluffs against the silver lit sky behind them. The trees stretched their barren limbs to scratch the air though there was no breeze. There was a golden light from the only guesthouse window she could see. Turning from the view she went to the bed and climbed under the down filled quilt, but sleep was not quick to come.

           Hanna awoke with a start. Something had touched her hair in a caress. She felt no threat but the sense of being touched filled her with curiosity. Looking around the room she noticed both cats curled on the bed near her feet. Perhaps it had been one of them as they settled in, but she doubted it, as the touch seemed made by long fingers gently stroking her hair.  Shaking her head she laid down dismissing it as a dream—a too real dream. This time sleep was quick and deep.

          The morning light and soft pawing of the cats woke her.  At her stirring the cats jumped off the bed, and tails in the air walked to the door. Stopping there they turned and yowled at her.  Hanna smiled at their plea for her to follow. ”Alright, I get the message. Breakfast for you; coffee for me”

          Pulling on a robe, Hanna became aware of someone in the house. Soft singing and dishes clattering   were coming from the kitchen. Now what Hanna thought as she went downstairs and went to the kitchen where a plump redhead was stirring something on the stove.  Both cats were weaving between her feet. She leaned forward to pat them.

          “Imp so you have decided. You will stay here. Well, it is the nature of you blacks. You choose your domain not us.  Call, you will be happy with him here, will you?”

          “Imp? Call?  They are named already?   And who the heck are you?”

          “Mercy Good. And the cats are not named; they choose their own names. It has been ever so, Hanna Proctor.”

          “Cats name themselves?” Hanna sat with a surprised thump on a stool near the table.

          “Oh yes. Have you not noticed they refuse to come until you say the right one?   I have coddled eggs here and toast. Coffee is done. “

           Thanks, I think.  Sorry, but why is you here making breakfast?”

          “It is what I do. Oh, they did not tell about me then.  I was a woman of all things for your Aunt. She asked me to stay on until you adjusted. “

          “Adjusted?”

          “To life at Sea cliff.”

          “What?”

          Mercy stopped stirring and looked at Hanna for a few moments and changed the subject as she plopped a plate of eggs, ham and toast. “You have met Barid then?”

          “Barid, well, he carried my bags up to the east room though I wanted the south. Then he gave me his name and not much more.”

          “That is our Barid. He is private but Miss Tabby liked him well enough?”

          “Enough for what? She was well over eighty and he is what? Early forties?”

          Mercy laughed. ”No not like you might think, but he is a local lad home from that Afghani war. It worked a bad magic on him; it did. Then he got home to find his Mother passed on while he traveled to get here. Not that they were close but still. Anyway he was in a bad way, and your aunt offered him the guesthouse. It has peace, quiet and no demands. She hoped it might heal what she knew was a wounded soul. Miss Tabby had a healing touch among other talents.”

          “So he pays rent?”

          “Of course not. Did you not hear me say no demands? He does do the odd chore or so.”

          Mercy turned to load a dishwasher ending the questions. Hanna attacked the plate of food lost in thought. Carrying her dish to Mercy, she ventures one more question.”  You said my aunt had talents. Did she paint, write or what?”

          “None of those. She, she. To tell the truth she made me promise to let the house teach you the truth of her life and of your family.”  Whipping off her apron Mercy walked to the door. ”I will be back after I go to the market for supper. Listen to the house. It is longing to bloom again.”

          Listen to the house now what does that mean Hanna wondered?  How could a house talk? Why would Mercy not share what she knew? Hanna went to the stack of journals.

          Determined to begin at the beginning Hanna searched through the stack looking for a journal from 1640 the earliest date of the house but the earliest journal found began in 1693. Taking it to a window for light she sat and began to decipher the faded ink’s feather y script.

                      Sept 30 1693

                      On this several relatives and friends moved to house I should call Seacliff, which has become my home.

                      The original hose is gone but some ten years ago longing for solitude and peace from misguided neighbors, my Uncle Endeavor bought the land and erected this house to which I have add a second story ad a smaller outbuilding of one story called the cottage. When he died some two years ago childless, my husband was his heir. Matthew was a Bishop from Salem but not of the more known Bishops still tis not a good name to have at this time. Never strong the recent happenings in Salem drained his strength, and he now lies in the parlor awaiting tomorrow’s burial. Jacob Proctor, Anne Good and her brother Timothy sit with his remains as I record the story of our exodus.

                      Last spring the word witchcraft became a scourge in Salem and it has recently been proven that many false accusations were made. Wrongs were done. Jacob had a brother John by his father’s second wife who was hung; Anne and timothy lost the aunt that had mothered them until her mind snapped with age. And even more. My family was spared but I do think had they looked closer at my practice of herbal cures and midwifery, I like my great aunt Rebecca Nurse who taught me was executed during the fire of the moment would have been called out.  Matthew sensing the passion of the silly girls began plans to move us to this house in the woods he had had from his uncle.

          We removed ourselves here in early June of this year. But selling his tannery, packing our goods and planning the move to this place while telling no one of its exact location sapped the savor of the man and never was he strong to begin with.  He sickened in July and naught that I brewed could revive his body or his spirit. He passed late last night and this this morning those that now sit with him knocked on our door. They asked asylum as he had promised them.

          So we will bide here away from the turmoil of the world and by the goddess we will prosper, as we must for I am with child. So mote it is. Mary Nurse Bishop, widow of Matthew.

          Mercy appeared at the door interrupting Hanna’s reading. She began to bustle around the room dusting things that need to be dusted. Finally she stopped beside Hanna waiting. Hanna recognized a busybody when she saw one and was tempted to leave the room but she did have questions.

          “Mercy, I could read these journals for a spotty history of the house as there gaps of years here. But I feel you can tell me what I should know about the house and the families that lived here.”

          “I can but I promised Tabby I’d not say a thing unless asked a direct question and there will be some things you need to learn by living here,”

          “Ok here is a direct question. Your name and my name and the people in the book are all tied to the Salem witchcraft trials, am I right?”

          “Yes, they were refugees from the trials. Those trials were so wrong and many innocents were put to death. You and I are descended from these families as is Braid.”

          “You are a Good, I am a Proctor and Barid is a”

          “Bishop.”

          “So what can you tell me now that I have asked a question?  Do not break your promise as that seems important.”

          “Yes an oath made to a  ...to Tabby is not given lightly and should be kept.  You read the first entry or two rights? So I feel I can tell you about your new home.”











          “ It was built around 1622 by a recluse who left the Bay colony as it was not to his taste .He lived here alone, but in following years it became as you have been reading a refuge of those whom the witch trials sought or whose families had been touched by the tragedy of the times.  Since then the house has passed down in your family but not everyone who held title to the house and land could live here. It was if the house rejected some people and welcomed others who once welcomed lived extraordinary long lives.”

“ The house chooses who lives here?” Hanna broke in. “just how does one know if the house has chosen them?”

           After a moment of thought, Mercy replied.” I really do not know how the house let its will be known, but Tabby was accepted before I was born so I have not seen it reject an owner. Nor before you ask, I do not know how long a person has to wait to know. I just know that the house chooses and those it chooses have powers.”

          “Powers, Mercy?”

           “Tabby was brilliant with herbs--- growing and using them. Her mother had the sight. I believe, but perhaps I am wrong, that it is those who have no power or who do not accept those they have, they are the ones, which are rejected. None who have lived here as you will read have been without power of some sort.”

    “And me?”  Hanna said “ power? Do I have Power?”

    Mercy stopped on her way out f the room and turned to Hanna. “ The house will know.”

CHAPTER 2

   During next few days, Mercy bustled in and out without taking much time to chat, and Barid just did not chat. So exploring the house and gardens filled Hanna’s days an the nights were devoted to the journals which not long after the first few entries become a listing of income and out go with no hints of power, acceptance or rejection.    The house had rooms and the rooms had crannies and nooks.  Hanna wondered through them marveling at furnishings still intact from its beginning until present day. An antique dealer would have a heyday here she thought touching an armoire in the east room as she hung her clothes in I, but she knew nothing would leave the house as long as she owned it.

The gardens were however her happy place. Ancient roses and patterned herb plots lived happily next to wild profusions of country garden staples such as hollyhocks, foxglove, daisies and lavender which was also an herb.  There was even a stone circle in the eastern near the cliff edge, which caught the light of the rising sun, but she was continually drawn to the small stone cottage near Braid’s guesthouse. Its rafters were hand hewn and hung with drying herbs.  Jars held dried raised petals, lavender buds, and various seeds all carefully labeled.  Mortars and pestles   stood ready to be used on a long worktable under the window.  The aromas and the snugness of the cottage called to Hanna, and once she discovered it, she found herself spending hours there memorizing the contents then spending the evenings researching the history and uses of the herbs it contained. She had nothing to do but what she wanted to do and for now that contented her for now though she knew that it would not last.

Monday of her third week she wondered down to the kitchen in search of wakeup coffee and one of Mercy’s bran muffins and found Mercy in serious conversation with the cats She stood at the doorway and eavesdropped in plain sight.

  “  Yes I know you two approve, but the house is not speaking yet, How will know when it does accept or reject? I took us two years to find Hanna what if she is not the one?” Low meows answered Mercy’s questions. Hanna was about to break into the conversation when Barid burst in.

 “ So Mercy, have the familiars weighed in and,” he stopped when he saw Hanna in the doorway.

 “Familiars? Like witches have?” Hanna asked stepping into the kitchen. Barid and Mercy exchanged glances.

“ Yes, the house always has two cats and they need to accept the owners or they leave. These two have been here longer than most with some new owners. Tabby was told me that there somewhere in the journal a list of cats and owners both accepted and rejected.”

“ So were these here with Aunt Tabby?”

 “No.”

“ She did not have familiars---err cats.”

“Oh she had cats, “Mercy broke in. “ But they … they”

Barid   broke in. “Tell her Mercy.”

“ They left when she passed.” Mercy finished.

Hanna walked out of the room without a backward glance. Mercy looked at Barid.” Well! Now she knows.”

Barid shrugged his shoulders and said “ but will she believe?

Chapter 3 

Hanna avoided Mercy and Barid for several days. Even tried to avoid the two cats, but that impossible. Even when she thought she had left them, they would suddenly appear to wrap themselves around her feet. She knew she avoiding facing the truth she felt in what Mercy and Barid had said in the kitchen that morning. Mercy sensed her need to be alone and meal trays arrived wherever she was with a small popping sound. That alone gave some reality to the magic powers.

On the fifth day since they had hinted at her powers, it rained. The grey, soft, cold New England rain shrouded the house in a veil of mist. Hanna wanted to go to the herb hut but the rain seemed designed to keep her inside. Pulling the curtains of the parlor’s bay window, she stared at the rain wishing it away.

“ Go ahead. Go out to the herbs. They need you. You will not get wet. I promise.”  A soft voice spoke to Hanna and an unseen hand, turned her way from the window towards the hallway. Hanna turned but no one was there. She paused at the doorway shaking her head. Then again she heard “Go on.”  

Without thinking Hanna went down the all and out the door. The mizzle fell all round her but not a drop fell on her hair or body. She walked to the herb house as if protected by a large umbrella while wondering why the word mizzle had sprung into her thoughts. Then she was there and once in the door, she felt welcomed and comforted.

 Without thinking about it she reached for the mortar and pestle ready make some tea.  Her mother had made herb teas, and now Hanna wanted a cup of the comfort tea her mother had blended when things seemed unsettled. What her mother used?

 “ Chamomile” The word seemed to come from nowhere. Hanna glanced around the room. No one was there. She reached for the jar labeled chamomile. ‘’ Lavender calms.” The voice suggested and this time Hanna did not survey the room as she added lavender to the mortar and began to blend the dried blossoms.

 Putting the water to boil on the electric burner, Hanna felt the cats winding around her ankles. She was sure she had shut the door against the rain. She glanced toward it.  It was closed. How had the furry companions come in? Had the door swung open with the wind gusts and then shut once again? Surely it would have banged and she would have heard it.

The whistling of the kettle broke into her thoughts. Lifting a cup from the shelf to make tea, the voice stopped her.  “ Not that one. I used it for toxic brews. The yellow color was the reminder.”  Hanna replaced the cup on another shelf to avoid selecting it again and reached for a bright blue one as the voice whispered, “ That was my favorite.” Without pausing she set the tea to brew and began for the first time to look more closely at what she thought of her haven in her new life.  Two cats tail swishing followed her as she walked around the room until suddenly both felines walked in front of her and sat.  Hanna stopped and was about to go around the living roadblock when Callie jumped up on the counter followed by Imp meowing loudly.

Hanna looked at the two cats and then realized they were directly in front of a cupboard that she had yet to open. Imp turned to her walked over and rubbed himself against her chest and then immediately went to set in front of the cupboard pawing t its doors. Intrigued by the feline antics, Hanna pulled the doors open to find leather bound books resting on the shelves.  The binding matched the journals she had been reading but these books were both larger in size and thicker. She pulled one toward her and opened it randomly. It was a recipe for a tisane and as she read Hanna realized it was a tea such as she had just brewed, but this was aimed at soothing a sore throat. Innocent herbal remedies, Hanna thought putting the book back. She turned to get her tea when Callie pawed a book from the shelf. It fell open on the counter. Hanna gasped when she saw the words; Spells to accompany tisanes. The spidery script was faded and hard to read but the words so mote it be and do harm to none stood out.

She snapped the book shut .It couldn’t be.  The pages had been yellowed the handwriting faded. Something from the past, she told herself from when people believed in such things.  She reached for her tea and holding with both hands she turned her back on the books. The aroma from the blue cup comforted her, as did the tea itself. But the yellow up had held toxic brews according the voice. The voice what was up with that?  This entire place was beginning to give her real shivers. What had Aunt Tabby been and what was up with the house. Putting down the cup she went out the door with cats twining between her feet and walked toward the house. It was time for answers.

Just as she reached the kitchen door, the voice spoke again.” Be careful. You are being challenged. Fear not I am with you but I have limited power to help.”  Hanna shook her head to banish the voice. It was not normal to have such a powerful voice from nowhere, and she wondered if she was imagining it to help cope with the questions she had about the house and her aunt.

Barid was leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands when she entered the kitchen. His long lean frame seemed totally relaxed. She walked over to the coffee pot to find it empty. “Great, empty and I want a cup.” she muttered.

“ Not empty—never used.” Barid said with amusement.

“ So did you use magic to brew yours?” she snapped.

“ Nope. French press and there is a cup left.” He answered and moved aside so she could see the press on the counter.  She reached for a mug and poured the coffee savoring the aroma. 

Several moments of silence followed. Hanna thought about all the events at the house and questions she wanted answered. Turning to Barid she asked, “ The house chooses but how does one know if they are chosen?”

“I am from here and Tabby was always in residence during my life. I only know what I have heard in tales. It boils down to two or three things and how they manifest themselves differ for each owner. First it is a question of power. Does the person have any and then does he accept it? Second, if power is there how will the person use it? It must be for the good of all and not for personal gain or revenge and third when challenged will the house help the person win the challenge?”

“Great. I have no answers for those things yet.”  Hanna responded looking at her nearly empty cup.

“ You must have power as the cats have accepted you and cats do not bond in this house with powerless people, you just have to find your talent and use it. “

“Mercy says she has power only to do domestic things. Do you have powers?”

“ My power is.”  but his response was interrupted by a knock on the door. The cats ran from the kitchen and satin the hall facing the door mewling loudly. Hanna and Barid followed.

“Hanna, do not trust what you see. Trouble comes in many forms. I feel this may be a challenge for you. Perhaps an answer is coming.”  Warned Barid as he turned and left her alone with the protesting cats.

Staring at the door and the cats, Hanna was puzzled at the arched backs and hissing form the pair. No one had knocked, again and no noise was coming from outside the door. Hanna stood on tiptoe to look out of a peephole to see what was on her doorstep. Just as she caught sight of a person going away from her yard, Imp and Callie relaxed their backs and became quiet.

Chapter  4

During the rest of the week Hanna found herself spending more time in the small herb filled shed. She mixed herbs for teas and extracted oils to refilled bottles.  None of these skills had been learned in her other life and she could not say she was learning now. She just knew what went with what and how to mix them. Something in her soul seemed to respond to the shed’s contents and wanted to put them to use. Once in awhile she looked at the old recipe book to guide her but she avoided the one that  alluded to magical uses  for the mixtures.

She was content   with the work in the shed, but somewhere in the back of her mind or was it her heart a  foreboding lurked. She felt something was about to challenge her in some way. Whenever the feeling surfaced, she would recall Barid’s warning only to shake it off. She was coming to love the old house and its lands. She felt herself taking root and changing. She worried less about her broken marriage and her lost career. Her legacy from Tabby had allowed her to be secure but the feeling of belonging went beyond living in the house and knowing money was not a problem.

Mercy and Barid watched her and sensed her growing bond.  They were waiting for her to realize that her powers were growing. They kept silent as words could not convince her. It would take some event that would create the final awakening. They felt it had to come soon for like Hanna they felt the sense of a challenge for the house and land was growing, and it was not a pleasant feeling. Imp and Callie would be quiet  purring cats only to jump up to prowl the house , backs humped and hissing. Mercy and Barid  watched the cats knowing they were signaling  danger , but Hanna  did not seem to notice.

The awakening came with an ordinary event one morning. Walking to the shed, Hanna heard a mewling in the thick lavender bordering the path. Leaning down she found a small dog with its golden fur blood stained and a leg at an odd angle.  Suddenly Imp and Callie were beside her and Barid came down the path as if he had been called.

“You called me?” he queried.

Hanna looked at him. She had not called, but she had thought he could help her. Had he heard her thoughts? She did not answer him but dipping her head she indicated the quivering pup at her knees. 

“ Help me. Can you bring him to the shed?”

Once there Hanna worked without thinking. Warm water appeared, and she washed the small wound and bound it with herbs.  She took the leg in her hands intending to set it but the voice prompted a chant in her mind. Hanna voiced it as she touched the broken limb:

    This bone please heal, As it was, let it be. Cure the harm done to thee. Do no harm. So mote it be. The bone moved under her hands which had become very warm and with a snap it was in place. The pup shook and stood up on its hind legs to lick Hanna’s chin.

“ Barid, did I ….?”

“ Yes.”

“How, how could I”

“ You know. Just think about it, Hanna. Accept it. You are a healer.”

Hanna held the pup who curled in her arms sleep. Her words came back to her as she reviewed the past few minutes and let the events sink in. She felt confused but aware of a new depth to her life. She did not notice Baird leaving or the cats curling to sleep at her feet. She just sat holding the sleeping dog replaying how she had worked with him. Not once had she doubted what she should do, she had just done it.

“That’s correct, Hanna. You have power and it is healing. Now  you must accept or reject it.”, the soft voice whispered in her ear. She could feel the breath of the speaker brush her cheek but turning toward the source no one was there. She, the pup, and two purring cats were the only ones in the herb shed.  Hanna shivered ,She knew  the voice was real and not just a mental image. “Who?”  she voiced not realizing she had spoken out loud.

“ The house. I am the house.” ,came the reply.

“ The house? Houses can not speak.”

“ But when you have found your power, you can hear me.  Accept your power to heal or reject it. I, the house, have accepted you, but you have the final choice. Yet, if you accept realize others wish to live with in me and you will be challenged.”

 Hanna started to rise but when she put the pup down it ran in circles as if it had not been hurt. She looked at the small bit of yellow fluff circling her feet and harassing the two cats. May be she did have power she thought walking to the kitchen door. “Power or not, I am happy here, and I choose to stay.” Her thought was no sooner voiced, and the house seemed to come alive. All the closed drapes opened, and doors opened to welcome Hanna , the cats and the pup.

Chapter five

Mercy  felt the change in the house the next morning as she entered the kitchen. It felt bigger ,more open, the way it had been when Tabby had lived there She knew at that moment Hanna  had accepted the house and her talent and the house had welcomed its new owner. Smiling at the change, she began  breakfast.

Hanna walked in moments later with Imp, Callie and a small yellow pup running between her feet.  Smiling as she avoided tripping or stepping on the animals she  walked to the table and sat down.  Mercy  filled a mug with coffee and plunked it down.

“So you are here to stay.” She stated with a smile at Hanna.

“Yes, it feels right, and I think I might …I might actually have some talent as a healer. But at the moment,  this pup needs a name.”

Mercy looked at the pup laying at Hanna’s feet. She realized the name was a ploy to avoid talking of powers and was content to play along. She watched his tail wagging happy attitude. The cats seemed to accept him as an equal and that indicated he had a place in the house for good.

“Well, Mercy, do you have any ideas?”,  Hanna asked.

“ He is happy, golden and male. I am not sure I have an idea . Do you?”

“ Yesterday, he was not well and had a broken limb. I …I healed him. Afterwards I  knew I belonged here; that I had power.  I decided to stay and the house changed. I saw it change. It seemed to come alive , to expand. I can not explain but the house changed. Lazarus? Shall we call him Lazarus?”

“ That would signal a return to life. Maybe but pretty serious for a pup. Don’t you think?”

“Maybe.  Golden  and beautiful. Adonis?”

“ Pretty classical. How about Oro, Spanish for gold.”

“Short and on point. Oro . You are now Oro.” Hanna spoke to the pup as she reached down to pet him.

Mercy watched Hanna and the pup. A third familiar was not unheard for a witch but it was rare for  a dog to bond with a witch. Cats, crows, and monkeys which were half imps were common but dogs. Still dogs were loyal creatures and not given to evil unless trained to be so. Still she was going to be on alert until she knew  the pup bode no evil to Hanna or the house. She would warn Barid also. Shaking the darkness from her mind, she thought about the fact that house had shown itself open even with the pup near Hanna and that was good thing.

 At the far edge of the  village  in a cottage overhung with vines and surrounded by a garden of  nettles and foxglove, Astrid  paced  in front of her mirror.  She was not happy and it showed in every step. The house had opened.  She sensed its acceptance of the intruder, Hanna. The house should be hers. Her lineage had been among the early residents of the house. Never mind that her ancestors had been sent away because they advocated revenge on those who were hanging witches. The silly words “ so harm none”  even today  were inane. Witches should use their powers in whatever way  benefitted them. A little dark arts could be a good thing.

Turning  quickly she went to her distillery where she could plan. It was easier to plan  amongst  her plants and herbs, and she needed to plan. She had to take  over the house. It was rightfully hers. She had almost convinced Tabby she was the choice , but Tabby had found out she made poppets for clients, brewed potions that made people ill and at times possibly more than ill though she never asked clients the intended use..  Asked to leave ,she had made the old fool promise not to tell anyone why. That ought to help ,as Barid and Mercy were unaware of her true nature. She actually cackled at the reassurance that fact gave her. She smiled at the sound. After all true witches cackled, everyone knew that.

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