DAY FOUR

Seidr (pronounced “SAY-der;”) Old Norse seiðr, “cord, string, snare” is a form of pre-Christian Norse magic and shamanism concerned with discerning the course of fate and working within its structure to bring about change, which was done by symbolically weaving new events into being. To do this, the practitioner, with ritual distaff in hand,[3] entered an ecstatic trance in order to be able to interact with the world of spirit.

The practitioner’s intended task typically involved a prophecy, a blessing, or a curse.

13

MAIDEN

SUNDAY 20 DECEMBER 2012

The sun glistened on the wrapping paper as a breeze blew in from the sea. Will wore his pyjamas and only a slight blush. Fikile smiled, but a dark cloud of thoughts enveloped her. I tried not to pry as I felt my heart respond in my chest to this woman. I loved her so much. My logic kicked in. “Fikile,” I began but was interrupted.

“Where is she?” The voice was fragile but full of authority.

“In here, Gran!” I shouted. Zee wheeled her into the doorway and disappeared again.

“Good Lord, your mother hasn't sent you alone, has she, Little Bird?” Her silver hair framed sharp grey eyes and a wrinkle-free brow. She may have been sick and frail, but her lips were always red.

“I am here, Athena,” said Eleanor from the deck. She was dressed and coiffed. Her outfit alone cost more than people in this area saw in an entire year. Not a single hair was out of place, but her thoughts were swirling around her head like a blizzard. She was happy and a little worried. I picked up a deep underlying concern. I did a little research, and by 'research' I mean I read her mind. Then wished I hadn’t. Eleanor had invested everything we had into the Onbaord. If it failed, we would lose everything.

“I was on a call to Beijing. Very important.” She said firmly.

“I'm sure it was, dear. I'm sure it was.” Gran smiled, but her eyes belied it.

“Play nicely girls,” said Fikile.

Gran flashed her a grin and winked. Not a single thought was available for my perusal. WTF? Out of curiosity, I edged in a little closer, but she looked pointedly at me and asked, “Who do we have here?”

“This is Will, William, Gran.” I started. “My er, friend.”

It was an eternity before her sharp eyes slid over to Will, who sought safety behind the couch.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Ma'am.” Will stepped out and knelt in front of the wheelchair. “Regan has told me so much about you. Thanks for having me.”

Gran reached out and took his hand in both of hers. Patting it, she said, “You are a most welcome young man. Most welcome.” Sizing him up, she said, “I like this one, Regan.”

“Must be beginner's luck,” I said.

Gran leaned in and whispered, “Don’t take any of her crap. She’s bossy, but a good egg.” There was a slight pause then they both laughed. She patted his hand again and winked. I was not the only one who was impressed. Eleanor’s eyebrows threatened to migrate into her hairline, and Fikile looked like the cat who got the cream. She was the one who extended the invitation, after all.

While Gran was a pillar in the community, and there were always local kids around because she was generous, she was hardly your sweet old lady. We were similar in this way. One of her running jokes was calling us 'the two old ladies’. We both have strange proclivities and display anti-social behaviour. I was happy to change the subject and tried again. “But my birthday's tomorrow. What’s all this?”

“I wouldn't miss my only grandchild's twelfth birthday unless rigour mortis had set in.”

“That's rather morbid, Athena,” said Eleanor, sipping her coffee. Eleanor used Gran’s first name more often than was necessary. "Aren't you getting a little old for Darth Vadar Pyjamas?” She cocked her weapon of mass destruction at me.

“Are thirty-five-year-old men too old for Darth Vadar pyjamas?” I said, tugging the too-short sleeves. Will smiled from the spot on the floor where he had stayed, like a puppy at Gran’s feet. Eleanor Grace sighed and blinked, her eyes moving quickly from side to side as she sipped her coffee and subtly checked something on her strategically placed Wearable. Gran said nothing. Did I miss the fireworks last night? Has there been any discussion about the Onboards? She turned her attention back to me and took a breath to speak, but it turned into a cough, and the cough became a prolonged fit. Zee appeared with a red box with a gold bow.

Something caught my eye. I glanced back at him and did a cartoony double-take. His giant golden wings unfurled. He flexed them and then winked at me. Suddenly, Zee and I shared a secret. Gran grinned and wheezed. “He is quite something, isn’t he?” Did she know quite how much of a something he was? I wanted to probe her thoughts, but Zee fussed over her. The being (was I to assume an angel?) had extended his bubble of protection over her. It caught the light and shimmered ever so delicately. I spotted the golden thread. It had subtle entry points that helped shape it, a gossamer bubble around them.

Gran waved him away. “I'm fine, I'm fine.” She wiped her mouth quickly but not quickly enough for me to miss the fine spray of blood splattered across the white handkerchief. I didn’t need to read her mind. Her smile cracked the Truth open in my heart: she might not make tomorrow.

Truth flooded the room. I saw Her in every eye, even Will. Why were they all lying to me like I was a child? My code tickled my skin. I focussed. With tremendous difficulty, I breathed it back into my body.

Gran said. “Shall we?” She nodded towards the gifts, and reluctantly, I turned my attention back to the charade.

Truth never left me.

MOTHER

“What the fuck?” I said for about the fortieth time. I circled the red box with the gold bow, stalking like prey. “What the fuuuuckkkk,” I said again, drawing the expletive out.

The kettle whistled. I turned off the gas and did what I had been aching to do for hours now. I ripped the gold bow and red paper off the box with feverish delight! Big presents weren’t a thing in my childhood.

I relished ripping the paper, and in seconds I came to a slightly out-of-breath halt. Still feverish, I yanked the lid off the black box to reveal a massive ancient-looking book.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Everything came into sharp focus. My skin tingled softly, and the hairs on my neck stood up. My breath quickened, and I closed my eyes. My whole body thrummed. I slid my hands down the side of the box, and with the care of picking up a newborn, I lifted the book from its cradle. A ripple of energy ran through my entire being.

With the utmost care, I laid the book on the table and flung the box aside. I swept the wrapping paper and ribbon onto the floor.

There it lay: glowing in the centre of the table. Again I stalked.

MAIDEN

I selected the smallest package wrapped in brown paper and string. I did not tear the paper, no. Every year Gran reminded me, as she did right now. “Your father says 'the unconscious tear at things'.” Her head bobbed in that way that old people do as she added, “He is so proud of you, Little Bird”

I worked the knot carefully, wondering about Gran and Dementia. I peeled back the paper to reveal long black socks with red polka dots.

“Your head is always in the clouds, Little Bird.” Said Fikile. “They are to remind you that your feet walk on the ground.”

“My feet walk on the ground,” I confirmed, putting the socks on even though the sun was high in the sky. Wiggling my polka-dotted toes, I added, “Thank you, Fikile, I love them.”

Gran nodded with approval and flashed Fikile a broad smile. I need not read their minds to know that Gran and Fikile respected, maybe even loved each other. Before Gran could comment, she succumbed to another coughing fit. One that she could not shake.

“I think we've had too much excitement for one day, Mrs Grace,” Zee said kindly. With enormous hands, he gently undid the brakes of the wheelchair. “I think it best to leave Regan to her festivities and let you rest.”

I caught myself nodding vigorously with the Angel. She coughed and sputtered as he turned the wheelchair around, but she held up a hand to pause. She gasped and struggled to maintain her composure as she pointed to her unopened gift on the table.

Regan, she said. You'll know what to do with it when the time comes. Her eyes contradicted the weakness of her body. Then the stately, bossy crone, who I had loved all my twelve years, shrank in the wheelchair.

Oh and P.S. Telepathy runs on my dad’s side of the family.

MOTHER

“Have you ever seen this?” I asked Thando as he came in through the kitchen door, several cups of coffee later. “I’ve had about seventeen glasses of water to compensate for my coffee,” I said, leaning against the counter, sipping my contraband and regarding the book as it radiated an otherworldly luminescence in the early morning sun.

“I have never seen it with my eyes.” He poured himself a cup of the lava I had permanently on the brew.

“Then what the fuck have you seen it with?”

MAIDEN

I could not get away fast enough. Since online was not an option, outside was all I had. I intended to seek solace from the Point, but as you know, running was not a leisure activity for me.

I tripped and landed face-first in the sand. The sob came from somewhere primal. I wanted to pull the ground up and throw it away because I had nothing left to stand on. The tears coursed down my cheeks, and my hands were at my eyes when I realised what was happening around me.

I was the epicentre of a fantastic fire. My fire! The mangrove trees flamed in firey bouquets. Some burning volcano of pain erupted out of my mouth as the fire raged inside me. The code wrote itself, and I made it so. Every coder has a signature, a mixture of naming patterns and a thought process that makes you recognise someone’s code easily. This had me all over it. My code raced across my body and raged in the mid-morning sun. For the longest time, I raged.

MOTHER

Enthralled, Thando circled the book the same way I had. "Under your bed?" He asked for the third time. I nodded, nibbling on my thumbnail.

It was bound with a deep dark brown leather and exuded an otherwordly golden luminosity. I desperately wanted to touch it.

"If it's what I think it is, then you must be pretty fucking special." Thando did not swear.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I said because I did.

It had an emblem on the cover, a golden circle, a mandala with a grid or a web inside. At the centre, a tree, whose roots wove into the circular border, and the branches did the same.

"A version of the Celtic Triquetra, I believe," I said. A second circle of symbols bordered the Triquetra.

"Not Celtic," I said, running my finger along it. I shivered. It all felt foreign and familiar. I was not so enthralled to ignore the eczema on my back suddenly bristling. As the light caught the emblem, it rippled continuously through the tree and the web, forever connected. A shiver coursed through me.

Thando drew his index finger lightly across the symbols, following their delicate lines. Again, I shivered. This time with pleasure.

I leaned in, fascinated. “Looks like a combination of Hebrew, Egyptian Hieroglyphs and Nordic Runes.” More to myself. “Maybe a dash of Sanskrit even.”

Thando ran his finger down the worn spine, indicating age and use. I closed my eyes and arched my back, suddenly feeling relief from the eczema. A low moan oozed out of me.

I felt other things in my body. I felt a hand on the curve of my waist and a palm cupping my cheek. Then my breast. I opened my eyes and saw Thando lovingly appraise the book. Warmth spread from between my legs. The skin along my spine tingled again. His eyes met mine. He pulled it closer and slid it around to face him. My low moan turned into something more breathy and desperate. I closed my eyes and arched my back, leaning into the orgasm that rippled through me. I dropped my coffee. The mug smashed into half a dozen pieces across the floor.

“It's lighter than you expect. Isn't it?” He said.

I drew air in sharply through my teeth. "Yessssssssss." I sighed, "aaaaaaaaaah," and backed away. My hands searched for an opening behind me that would take me as far away as possible.

MAIDEN

My skin was alive with movement.

Regan, your power is in your awareness.

The first words I heard Truth say did not come from outside me.

Be here now, she said.

My wailing settled into salty sobs, and the flaming curtain of debris abated. It was impressive but probably not that helpful.

I noticed Will sitting at a safe distance.

“I’m so sorry.” He said. He got up tentatively and came to sit next to me on the hot sand.

"Master the Casings, master the Universe," he said.

I lengthened and deepened my breath, and code spiralled out of me. Ribbons of light quivering, reaching out into the quantum field, generating Passages for me to choose from. My InBetween hummed into being around me.

I began to oscillate at an unimaginable rate. Thousands of fractals of this choice, this passage, this moment now stacked one on top of the other in infinite potential reverberated through me. Each was humming the tune to a song called 'Pick Me, Regan!'

The quality of light changed.

The hum started to build.

The tapping took up its beat.

Will waited. His ninja-paying attention skills honed in on me. I imagined this was what acupuncture felt like. Quite uncomfortable but probably beneficial. Like a firework or a champagne cork, my moment of choice burst forth.

“Aren’t you going to ask about my superpower?” I asked.

“Oh was that you?” Will quipped while dusting himself off. Being covered in soot and ash was comfortingly familiar.

“Why does literally everyone leave me?” I asked.

“I don’t think you’re using the word literally correctly,” he said. I wanted to punch him in the face, but I burst out laughing.

It was a mad laugh. Will wasn’t sure if I was feeling better or if I might punch him in the face. He joined in anyway. My InBetween faded as I slapped at the sand with mirth and madness.

“Hey,” Will said suddenly. “Wanna rinse off in the sea?”

I caught a snatch of his thoughts. The swim was not what was on his mind. Will was worried about me, and something about that was nice. Truth swelled around us.

The first gate is open, she said.

I caught a flash of her in the periphery of my vision. What gate? I asked, but she was gone.

“Little Bird," said Tata. "You did this?” It felt like an accusation, but Tata was pleased. I could tell.