Birds of a Feather

Goddess, hear our cry.

Goddess, heed our words.

Let Fire transform this body.

Let Earth reknit these bones.

Let Water make blood flow.

Let Air breathe new life.

Let Spirit fill the soul.

My heart beat so hard and quickly that it threatened to break through my feathered chest. I flitted around frantically but couldn't penetrate the barrier the witches had set up to hold me in their circle.

The heady smell of incense filled the air. It was cloyingly strong, making it difficult to breathe, and I began to feel dizzy.

The witches chanted and swayed around the pentagram drawn out in salt. While most dressed in black and several wore capes, they came from different walks of life. One meek and washed-out-looking woman wore drab, modest clothing. She was probably a librarian or writer or something. Another woman in heels and a business suit appeared to have come straight to the gathering from work. The oddest of the bunch was a bushy-bearded man in leather.

His motorcycle was parked next to a beat-up purple VW bus at the edge of the field. A BMW and one of those strange sounding electric cars sat just beyond them.

He was the one who had captured me. The man looked fierce but was incredibly gentle with me. It came as a complete surprise when he placed me in the center of the pentagram and then closed the circle, trapping me inside. I felt somehow betrayed by this.

Goddess, hear our cry.

Goddess, heed our words.

Let Fire transform this body.

Let Earth reknit these bones.

Let Water make blood flow.

Let Air breathe new life.

Let Spirit fill the soul.

I was exhausted from bashing myself against the witches’ barrier. I trembled as I landed on the grass, trying to make myself as small as possible. At least the air was fresher down here.

Why were they doing this to me? What did they hope to achieve? I was small. How much life force could I possibly add to their spell?

Shivering, I chirped out my distress call. Cherweee-cherweee-cherweee. My time in the world may be done, but at least I could warn my friends to stay away.

Goddess, hear our cry.

Goddess, heed our words.

Let Fire transform this body.

Let Earth reknit these bones.

Let Water make blood flow.

Let Air breathe new life.

Let Spirit fill the soul.

The chanting hit a crescendo, words thundering through the woods. The witches swung their arms in the air with excited expressions on their faces.

A strange sensation overtook me. I felt like I was freezing even while I was engulfed in a tornado of fire. As the flames died, a rainbow of colors flashed before my eyes before everything faded to black.

Blurred vision slowly cleared as I opened my eyes. Goosebumps ran up and down my body as I lay on my face, panting. My fingers dug into the soft brown dirt as I pushed myself up on shaking arms to look around.

There was a faint smell of incense in the air. The scent of damp earth and bitter grass was so pungent that I could nearly taste it. Of course, that could be because dirt covered my face after wallowing in it.

The witches were no longer chanting. They stood around watching me expectantly. I opened my mouth to chirp, but all that came out was a pitiful whimper.

A grandmotherly-looking woman walked up and wrapped me in her cloak. “Hush now. You will be just fine. We aren't here to hurt you.”

I saw a pile of dark grey and yellow feathers on the ground as she helped me to my feet. My legs were weak, barely able to support my weight. My voice struggled to form words.

“It’s alright,” the witch said. “It’s always like this after the transformation. You’ll eventually learn to walk and speak again.”

The motorcycle riding witch held a cup of water to my lips. I drank gratefully.

“I know you are wondering what happened,” he said. “Come sit in the bus, and we’ll explain everything. I’m sure you are cold. It’ll be warmer in there.”

I found myself huddled under blankets on a cracked vinyl seat. The witches crowded around me, making me nervous. A woman who looked more like a soccer mom than a witch used a damp cloth to wash the dirt from my face.

Biker Witch cleared his throat. “I don't know how much you remember about the time before. About five years ago, there was a witch living in these parts who got herself in a pickle. She was a kindly soul and made a decent living selling herbal remedies. She should have left it at that.”

“Clyde,” Librarian Witch admonished.

“What? It's the truth. She should have stuck with growing her plants and not meddling with spellwork without supervision.”

“Eloise is very sorry for what conspired.”

Clyde grunted. “Anyway, Eloise inadvertently let loose a very powerful spell that turned everyone in the town into birds.”

Librarian Witch smiled sadly. “She came to us as soon as she realized what had happened.”

“We immediately gathered our coven to remedy the situation,” Clyde said. “Unfortunately, the people began acting like the birds they had become, and many flew away from us. I'm the only one with an affinity for soothing animals, so it has been up to me to seek most of you all out.”

The witch in the business suit picked at her fingernails as she spoke, “It’s taken us this long to track you down. Not an easy task. We aren't sure how many others we will find at this point.”

Clyde nodded. “When we locate one of the flock, we stop whatever we are doing and come together to form a spell circle to reverse the spell.”

Grandma Witch chuckled, “Well, some of the town was turned into geese. They were gathered in the square, honking at each other. Not so different than in their human form, I would guess.”

“It does seem like the people became birds that matched their personalities,” Librarian Witch said.

I looked around, curiosity showing on my face.

Clyde grinned through his bushy beard. “You were a songbird, an Oriole, my dear. I'm guessing you were quite musical in your previous life.”

The witches began to disperse. Clyde gave me a friendly nod before his motorcycle roared to life.

The car belonging to Soccer Mom Witch was nearly silent in contrast. The odd whirring was only audible after Clyde rode off.

Business Witch sped away in her BMW. It seemed like an odd choice of vehicle to drive over the pitted country roads. Although, it was no stranger than bringing an electric car where there likely were no charging stations. Both witches had probably spelled them not to be damaged or run out of charge.

The VW bus bumped along the remote road. One of the witches rifled through a duffle bag, handing me clothing she thought would fit, then helped me put them on.

Eventually, we stopped in a small town where a few people came forward, as the witches helped me out of the vehicle.

I turned my head at a shriek coming from one of the homes. A woman rushed up and gathered me into her arms. “Alanah. Oh, my baby. You are finally home. I thought I’d never see you again.”

I peered at her and gasped in recognition. “M…mom.” I croaked out, my throat raspy from disuse.

“Yes, sweetheart. Come inside. Let's get you some food.” My mother said, guiding me into the house.

I still felt confused but content to have my mother clucking over me. Over time, memories of my life before returned.

As my strength returned and I explored my home, I couldn't help but laugh at the handful of townspeople gathered to gossip and bicker like geese.

My town was small enough that the kids had always been bussed to a neighboring village for school. It was strange returning there. Even though I was five years older, it was like time had stopped. I should have already graduated along with the other kids from town, some of whom still hadn't been found. After a few days, I decided to finish my schooling at home.

As I rediscovered my humanity, my voice once again rang with song. But in my dreams, I still soared over the forest and flitted through the trees.