When a tree or shrub has grown from a land, it draws up into itself the very soul of that land. To take from the tree-weird is not just to take of it; it is to take of the land, and so even the powers below the ground should be offered to for their good graces. The necromantic rod is taken, necessarily, from a tree in a graveyard- or a tree that grows on the side of a burial mound- but with the latter case, the dangers are many, for the spiritual powers of those places are great. The tree that grows by the water has the power of the water in its body- the staves taken from it are staves of that pool, or river too- and the weirds of that water need their due. The necromantic yew staff that Elie Evans took from the grave of her husband was not just a stave of great Saturnian force, but a means of reaching his spirit, which was merged with that place in the dark ground.
II.
The Hares in the Holes
The charm for making the fruit grow larger and in greater quantity on the orchard trees, and for making the plants of the earth come forth in greater quality and abundance was the same as the charm for making the woman fertile- clay was taken from the land and the shape of hare carved out of it. There, under the large round moon, next to a well-charmed fire, the hare statue was bathed in moonlight and firelight, and the charm was made:
A leaping god when people were free
In the forests and fields long before me
A hare was he, a hare was she,
fire and fierce, a hare was he.
Hare-weird, life overflowing
Fire burning, freedom running,
Darting hare, life overflowing
In the forests and fields long before me.
A help for me if it may be.
The hare statue was told what was needed, the spirit of the hare-weird so pleaded with, and it was placed on the mantle of the house- or in a tree overlooking the fields and orchards. The next Friday, another hare was made, the same way, with the same charm said by a fire that contained some wood from the first fire. That hare was buried on the land somewhere, in a hole that was dug and refilled. The powers of the land were given their milk and honey or their wine. The next Friday, another hare was made, and charmed in the same manner, in front of a fire at night made with some sticks from the previous fire, and that hare was buried in the same hole- and on this went, the hole becoming full of hares.
III.
Raising Grain
Grain is gold and fire is gold- both are sources of life and comfort. Gold is gold, the mineral of wealth. The fire and the grain and golden wealth have a weirded relationship, and the raising of a fire and the springing up of wheat are sympathetically tied together. The charm to get the grain to grow more abundantly was the same as the charm to gain more wealth- build a small fire, and add wood to it to make it suddenly spring larger, and then more to make it larger, and more to make it larger still- while making the proper charm.
IV.
Old Man River's Charm
“That old river-man was always kind to my family; we fished and swam in his water without him trying to rankle us. We’d always go down to the waterside and toss in some of our sandwiches for Old Man River, and I think he liked our company. If you needed anything, he might be able to help- steal away a bottle of gin or whiskey and dump it in the water at night, and dig a hole as close to the water as you could get- a place where the rising river water after a rain would cover it up- and you could put in a message for Old Man River, and he’d carry it away, and do things with it- I took a doll and dressed up like the girl my heart was set on, and I split open the chest of the doll and took a red stone to be her heart, and after giving Old Man River his whiskey, I told him
“Old Man River, make this heart beat in desire for me- it is the heart of my sweetness, whose arms I want around me- make this heart beat in desire for me.”
And I kissed that stone and put it in the heart of the doll, and stitched it up, and buried that doll there. The river flooded up a few days later, and the Old Man took that spell away. I got what I wanted, and so did he- more whiskey, and my undying friendship.”
V.
Messages to the Well-Woman
Wells are natural entryways into the underworld, down to the kingdom of the Pale-Faced Lady. A spindle dropped in a well was discovered by the girl sent down to find it in the cottage of Mother Hulda- that girl discovered a world far below, and a quest for gold. All deep bodies of water have been seen as passageways to the deep world, and the “Lady in the Well”- whether it be the water-weird of that hole, or the manifestation of the Hidden One, or even the ancient Earth Mother herself, they can be reached down those shafts with messages- messages written on rocks, carved on clay or wax tablets, on lead tablets, or what have you- messages that can be dropped down below, to her waiting lap. Things in the deep can be spoken with, letters of desire can be sent down to the deepest places of the world. Send offerings down with your missives, and tie offerings to the nearby trees and shrubs, and watch this oldest of magic come to life with the voice of the land and water.
VI.
The Grave Ditch
Some of the dead know a lot of things. Through death, they entered the reversed world, the fullness of things in another way, and they may have met many powers of wisdom- or terror. Some of the dead sleep lightly, others not so. I’ve had good dreams of the dead, long after they went to rest, telling me that they were still there, still concerned for the rest of us, but very happy where they were, too. In the falling snowflakes, I’ve seen a bridge to the dead, and I’ve had more dreams. When I needed advice about something of urgent importance, I would always use the grave ditch conjuration to reach out to the dead below the ground.
Going to the graveyard at night, on the same day of the week that my beloved was buried (though the same day of the year would be ten times as powerful) I’d dig a trench on top of their grave and fill it with red wine and a drop of my blood. I’d thorn the earth in a small circle to the north of the grave and surround myself with dust mingled with tiny bits of bread, and I’d pour a small trickle-road of water from the grave to the southern tip of my circle. I'd light a candle there and call my beloved’s name three times, then say it three times backwards, blow out my candle and then lie down and go to sleep inside my circle thus made. I’d wake up the next morning knowing just what I needed to do.
VII.
Old Lady that Mommet
I turned a broom upside down, and made the bristles into hair- I even brought in more twigs and straws to make more hair, and I made a face of clay up there. It was a good likeness of the person that I intended to conjure. I tied sticks for arms near the neck of the broom and dressed it up in clothes just like she wears often, and I even managed to get a hair of hers, to add to the head. I put the same sort of makeup that she wears on the clay-face, and I sat the mommet at my table in my house, feeding it foods I knew she liked- I prepared them just like I knew she liked them, and I left them there for the entire time of the meal, taking her plates away when I took mine away. I tucked old lady that mommet into bed at night, and walked it around outside during the day. It lived with me for nine days, eating and sleeping.
On the first day of her existence, I baptized her and named her- on the ninth day, the moon was dark, and I took Eleanor outside, wrapped her in her winding sheet, and put her in the grave I had dug. I said the prayers for the dead over that sad little grave, and even managed to weep a bit- but they were tears of joy. Shovelfuls of earth later, she was in the ground, deservedly resting.
VIII.
The Follower and the Way Down Below
I have run through the entire length of the damp woods behind Old Corbet’s farm- many times. I go there to see the river, and feel away from it all- a distance from the boring square blocks and grey streets of my town. There are trails all throughout those woods, and after being away for a rainy season, when it floods so high that you can’ get back there, there were new trails made to explore. I managed to get lost, but I was able to find my way back to Corbet’s farm.
There is an old gate looking into the woods in the back, and beyond that, old barbed wire and posts that have seen better days. Into a long-unused pasture I went, and then into a wild, overgrown orchard. The weird there was strange, longing, exhausted. Peeking through the ruined fence on the side of that, I gazed out into the main part of his land, the old barn staring back at me from quite a distance. I could see the stream behind his farm from here, with all its sleeping weirds, but I went back. I wanted to go by the stables before I climbed back up the hill and walked home, but I had come here for a purpose- to find a way down below.
There was a tree out here that I had used before- it had a natural cave at its roots, and on wings of witch-sleep, I had crawled down it, and into another world. Now, some power or another was binding me or blocking me, because try as I might, I couldn’t find that old tree. I walked up and down the trail I did know, but never did I see where the old tree was. So many trees had fallen back here since the last floods, that I thought- and realized- that my old underworld-tree had been taken. It was no longer there to give me admittance into the world of the dead. I heard an owl calling across the river, calling long and clear. He knew what I was doing, that Weird-bird of mine, and he approved. He was going to make sure that I saw what I needed to see- he was following me.
I went through the forest, off the trail a lot, until I saw my first sign: he was looking at me, from the side of a tree. The rough wood on the side of the tree, in a stripped bare area, was clearly formed into the face of an owl. Next to it, a den of some animal vanished into the earth. Maybe that was a way down below, but I felt inside that I should keep going. So I did.
The trail turned north, and I followed it, but it didn’t keep going to the back of Corbet’s farm- it turned east, but it took me time to realize that this was a new trail. I was about to turn back when I saw, in a small depression below me, wide open ground and scattered cypress trees everywhere. One of them had a large, dark, perfectly dome-shaped cave in it, and I knew I was supposed to see it. I walked over to it, sat on the wet leaves and memorized its every detail. This was the way down below. The invisible fetch-beast following me had taken me straight there, after showing me his face in the wood.
That night, I would lie down, the proper charms and protections conjured, and on wings of conscious sleep, fly to the tree and enter it's cave. If it led all the way down, I could find the pleasant country below, that country which is also darker than inky shadow. And what mysteries await there? Even the wisest cannot tell... I will go there to the source of all and converse with those whose wisdom outstrips the sharpest of my world.
