The Hidden Legacy

me and surveyed the apartment as if seeing it for the first time. “Okay, now I get it.”
“What?”
“The soft blue, yellow and white. You’ve surrounded yourself with the colors and symbols of the element of air.” Ivy shook her head. “I’m surprised I didn’t pick up on it. Usually my intuition is pretty accurate, but today, I totally missed the clues.”
“There’s an art to hiding your Craft in plain sight.”
“It’s a sort of glamour, isn’t it?” Ivy decided.
“And now that you know what to look for, what do you see?” I asked, curious as to her answer.
Ivy walked around the apartment considering everything. “Well the colors for starters, and you’ve got a vintage, scientific chart butterfly poster above your dresser, and drawer pulls with songbirds on them in the kitchen. There’s a dragonfly motif in the bathroom, all creatures associated with the element of air.”
“Most people never even catch it.”
“It’s clever and sneaky. You’ve got to admire that.” Ivy grinned. “So now I’m curious. With the clairolfaction, what sort of information do you associate with specific fragrances?”
I gestured to the kitchen table and we sat across from each other. “Well for me, love has a pretty specific scent.”
“Cherries and chocolate,” Ivy remembered.
“Yes, and if it’s an older, more mature love...roses. Happiness smells like bubblegum, and someone who has an open, friendly way about them hits like nutmeg to me. But jealousy smells like burnt sugar, suspicion smells like mothballs, and lies or dishonesty...that comes across almost like the odor of sauerkraut.” Ivy was hanging on my every word, and I had to admit it was fun to talk about my odd psychic talent with another Witch, and with a magickal practitioner who didn’t think it was, well...weird.
“If you meet another practitioner, what does your clairolfaction tell you?”
“Well, if they’re more scholarly like Nathan then I smell books and paper,” I said. “If they are herbalists I detect rosemary and sage. Kitchen Witches always remind me of pumpkin spice.”
Ivy chuckled at the last bit. “So if you met a Witch that specialized in candle magick, you’d probably smell smoke and melting wax?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “You know, you’re one of the few modern practitioners I’ve ever spoken to who actually understands this.”
“It’s cool and it’s interesting.” Ivy leaned forward. “So, what’s danger smell like to you?”
“Ozone,” I said simply.
“Shit!” Ivy’s eyes went big in her face. “Can you call a storm?”
I smiled. “Not unless I lose my temper.”
“Nathan told me that your grandmother, Janet Osborne, could call a storm.”
“She could. The afternoon she died, a big one crashed over our town. Took out power for a few days.”
“I wish I could have met her,” Ivy said, and reached across the table for my hand.
“I think she would have gotten a kick out of you.” I gave her fingers a squeeze. Ivy Bishop was absolutely charming, I decided.
“Hey, Hannah.” Ivy pointed over my shoulder. “The big vintage style honey bee sign, did you make that?”
“I did.”
“I really wanna see your workshop,” Ivy said. “Nathan told me you have a whole online business on the side, making painted and stenciled signs.”
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go right down.” I led the way down the stairs, and Ivy followed me into the garage—turned workshop. As I expected, she went straight for the Halloween signs that I’d started to stock up on in preparation for the October holiday.
Ivy held up a large black and white sign with distressed edges. “Not every Witch lives in Salem,” she laughed at the Innkeeper style sign. “This is fabulous!”
“I figured you would go for that one,” I chuckled.
“You can take a debit card, right?”
“Of course.”
Ivy tucked it under her arm and rooted through the rest of the signs. She chose three others. “These are going to be gifts for my family. Good thing I brought an extra suitcase.”
***
The next day was the fourth of July and it dawned hot, clear and sunny. Eli and I attended the local parade with his cousin Margot, and later that afternoon we headed over to Kayleigh and Curtis’ large house for our annual family gathering. Eli was sulking, as I’d not allowed him his pirate hat, but he was outrageously pleased with the matching tie-dye patriotic shirts my mother and I had made for the whole clan.
After sundown, the family gathered together at the marina to watch the town’s fireworks display out over the water. The temperatures had cooled only slightly, and fortunately the air was rarely still around the water.
Eli and I sat on a big blanket in the grass with Nathan and Ivy beside us. The rest of the family was scattered around, and Nathan was trying to convince my mother that he wasn’t upset that he didn’t have a matching t-shirt.
“If I would have known you were coming I’d have made you both one,” she insisted as she held baby Maddie.
Ivy stretched out on the blanket in an American flag tank-top, red sandals and white shorts. “Bet you would have been adorable in a tie-dye shirt, Pogue.”
My mother laughed and winked. “He would have been.”
Eli took Ivy’s prone posture as an invitation and before I could warn her, my son gave a shout and tried to dive on Ivy.
Ivy snagged him in mid-air. After a bit of a playful tussle she strolled off with him and Margot. The three of them went hand in hand towards a vendor who was selling glow in the dark bracelets.
“Have room for a couple more?”
I glanced up and saw Edmund smiling down at me. Henry Walker stood next to him, and he seemed about as pleased to see me as I felt seeing him again. “Sure,” I managed.
Henry silently dropped down on the grass a few feet away. He wore cut off denim shorts and a faded navy blue t-shirt that had seen better days. He rested his elbows on his knees and lifted his face to the slight breeze coming from the port. I watched him scan the families who had gathered and felt a