Bonfire of the Goddess: A Supernatural Legacies Short

 

I gripped the steering wheel as if it were the only anchor to this world. Glancing in the rearview mirror was a mistake. I didn’t have a chance of masking this anxiety. Beads of sweat had pearled on my forehead. My coven and I performed the Imbolc ritual every year, but this was the first time I’d bring Sarah. 

 

A nagging voice whispered, “Sarah wasn’t a fae or a witch, not even a druid. Magicless. Mundane. Mortal. Pitiful. Unworthy of your…”

 

Anger replaced anxiety, bubbling up into a scream. “Shut up!”

 

Shrill laughter rang in my ears, fading slowly until all I could hear was my breathing.

 

The voice inside wasn’t my inner thoughts. No, it was from the entity, the aspect of the Morrigan that I’d absorbed when my mother, aunt, and I claimed the land. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. Then, I slowly released my grip on the steering wheel and then used a napkin from the console to mop my forehead.

 

The entity within me wasn’t a malevolent spirit, but rather a force like nature itself or the wild magic of faerie. The voice, my mother had explained, was an echo of the goddess’s personality that remained in the magic that I’d inherited. It would nag at me until I accepted my aspect. 

 

Miriam also had a hard time with accepting her nature from the triple goddess, the Crone. I was nowhere near ready to be the Mother. It was weird to me that I, the youngest of the three, who’d accepted the Morrigan into us, wasn’t the Maiden. My aunt Rhi was at least fifty when she took on the role, and I had been only eighteen. Miriam was only in her mid-forties, and my actual mother, when she accepted the Crone. Magic didn’t care about age or propriety of the role.

 

After a last look in the mirror, I was prepared to go get Sarah. I rang the call button for her apartment. 

 

“Be right down.” Sarah’s voice carried her smile clearly, even through the crackly intercom speaker.

 

I couldn’t help but smile, too. A good reminder that this was an aspect of my life I wanted to share with her. Supernaturals had only lifted the veil between our world and the mundane when I was a teenager. I was nervous because it was important to me that this girl whom I’d liked so much accepted me as I accepted her. And I accepted her, no matter what the Mórrígan thought.

 

The door ousted a woman in her late twenties with short-cropped hair, a clean face free of makeup, dark smiling eyes, and dressed in a T-shirt, flannel, jeans, and black boots. A large jacket was slung over one arm. She stood a head shorter than me, and I loved the way her face beamed up at me.

 

“Hey, babe!” Sarah threw her arms out for a hug.

 

I brought her in close, breathing her in. The familiar scent of her cologne, shampoo, and the fabric softener that clung to her clothes calmed me a step further. It would be okay. “Hey, you. Ready to celebrate Imbolc?”

 

Slight nervousness underscored her chuckle. “Yep. Excited to observe this, Jada.”

 

When I had asked my mother if Sarah could come, at first, Miriam had balked at the idea. Despite mami’s instrumental role in supes coming out, witches and fae had kept their sacred traditions hidden for so long, and she had to hide so much more than the rest, it was hard for her to let go of the inclination of secrecy. 

 

Finally, after nearly melting me with her silent, preternaturally green-eyed stare, Miriam had relented, “As long as she understands that this is sacred and not a spectacle to record on her phone for social media.” ‘

 

I pulled back from our embrace. “Do you have your phone on you?”

 

Sarah shook her head. A grin crept up the corner of her mouth. “Of course, I didn’t bring it. How else would I be completely susceptible to this human sacrifice?”

 

I didn’t laugh. My response was a nod towards her smartwatch. “Does that have recording capabilities?”

 

She glanced at the watch. Her face shifted from playful to serious. “I don’t think so, but I’ll leave it in the glove compartment if it’ll make you feel better.”

 

I noted that she didn’t offer to take it upstairs. It stung a bit that her joke wasn’t completely out of left field, but I got it. In this day and age, having some way for someone to track where you were and make texts and phone calls was a matter of safety. 

 

I smiled reassuringly. “Forget about it. Let’s go.”

 

A piece of me, not some goddess, screamed that this was a bad idea. I pushed it down. 

 

Sarah chatted away as we drove into the mountains to Snoqualmie Pass. It would be full dark when we arrived and cold. The fortunate thing about possessing magic was that neither of these things mattered. 

 

I parked in a ski resort lot. We got out of the car. Sarah looked at me askance. I grinned. 

 

“This is where I’ll leave my car, but the ritual is in a secret place.”

 

“That’s not the problem.” She gestured to her clothes.  “You didn’t tell me where we were going. I’m ready for winter in Seattle, not the mountains at night.”

 

“This isn’t where we are going, but here let me cast something…” I let my voice trail off and then spoke in Kairska, the language of witches. 

 

“My skin tingles. What are you doing?” Her eyes were wide with wonder. I was endearing to see magic as a thing that wasn’t novel. Sometimes I forgot how wondrous it was.

 

“Weaving a spell to keep you warm and to keep snow from penetrating your clothing and boots. You’ll also be able to walk on snow without sinking.”

 

After blinking, she evaluated me as if she were meeting me for the first time. “You can do all that?”

 

My gut did a nervous flip. Understanding magic was real and discovering the extent of what supernaturals could do were two distinct realities, I realized. “I thought it would be alright?”

 

Sarah grasped my fingers gently and lifted my hand to her mouth, brushing her warm, soft lips against the skin.  

 

“It’s more than alright. It’s wonderful, babe. You amaze me!”

 

“You’re the special one.” I placed a hand on her cheek, lowering my head until our lips met and showed her I meant it. Unfortunately, I had to keep it brief. The Imbolc celebration would begin soon. Then I remembered I could planeswalk back to this exact moment and reach the ritual on time. It was a risk to use time travel since this was a set event, but I wanted to savor the moment. Time travel wasn’t necessary, though. A car pulling up yanked any romance stirring clean away. 

 

I led Sarah to a trail that entered a copse of Douglas firs. Out of sight of any onlookers, I reached within to my well of magic that many supernaturals called their light and pulled my faelight into my hand. With a sweeping motion, I cut the fabric of reality and built a door to another part of the forest that was tucked away in the Cascade Mountains, far from resorts and prying eyes.

 

None of this was visible to anyone but me. To Sarah, I was simply karate chopping the air. 

 

Taking my girlfriend’s hand, I grinned at her. “We’re about to go through a portal to another place. We’ll still be in Washington, but more remote. Ready?” 

 

Eyes wide, Sarah swallowed hard and then nodded. “Yeah.” 

 

We walked through the bridge I’d made through time and space. The surrounding trees quickly became more numerous than those found in a copse. The din we hardly noticed before; the sound of highway traffic, ski lifts, machinery, and what we called civilization fell away. Replaced by the near silence of a nearly still forest. Nearly still, because witches and fae assembled. Supernaturals, and my mundane girlfriend who had a spell I’d cast on her boots, could walk through a forest without making a sound. So, no crunch of snow accompanied us as we left the trees to enter a clearing. Magic brushed my skin as we passed through wards that accepted us. 

 

Suddenly, I could hear voices and the crackle of a great bonfire. Children dressed in long tunics and dresses frolicked about, witchlight sparklers in their hands. Sarah gasped at the dusting of light. Sprites, not much bigger than fireflies, danced in the air. They circled my head, singing praise of the Tuatha De Danann, of gratefulness to Brigid lighting the way to spring. 

 

I dissolved the glamour of street clothes, revealing traditional Imbolc garb.  A long, gauzy dress with symbols, long forgotten by the mundane except for certain druids, embroidered on the sleeves, neckline, and hem. A wreath of thrushes adorned my ringlets that I wore loose for the ceremony. 

 

“Whoa, you look like a fairy princess in that,” Sarah whispered.

 

“Technically, I am a fairy princess,” I reminded her with a light chuckle. 

 

“Is the High King attending?” Sarah asked, looking about with excitement dancing in her eyes.

 

She had yet to meet Oberon, my grandfather and High King of the Unseelie fae. He didn’t have a good relationship with witches thanks to my grandmother taking my mother away from him when they split, but I wouldn’t get into family drama with my girlfriend. She would have questions, and there was too much of it to explain in a single night let alone right before a ceremony.

 

“I’m afraid not. Grandfather will have his own festival in his court. Only fae, witches, and druids who live in the area will be in attendance.”

 

Her shoulders sagged a little. 

 

“The rest of my coven will be there, and many fae nobles, who live in Washington. It is a great honor.”

 

 “Of course, it will be, babe. You talk so highly of your grandfather. I just wanted to meet him.” 

 

Sarah looked expectantly for some guarantee she would, but I made no promises that she would ever meet my grandfather. A promise was binding to a person like me. He might be my grandfather, and I adored him, but the fae king was…not necessarily a good person. Explaining an ancient being that was not human and couldn’t be held to any social norm of this world would take some time.

 

Among those making merry, I spied the Gonzalez family. Inez and Gus were chatting with two of their grown children, Hugo and Maria. The rest of the Gonzalez siblings weren’t in sight, but I didn’t need them. Maria seemed to sense me looking her way and turned. She smiled, eyes lighting with recognition. I waved the witch over. 

 

My stomach once again did a nervous flip. Sarah had met Maria before. We’d all gone to a supernatural nightclub called The Veil together. Maria, Roxy, and I had been working a case, but to Sarah it was a fun night out. However, Maria and I had…a complicated history. She was kind to agree to what I asked her to do tonight.

 

“I will be part of the ceremony, but Maria here will keep you company as an observant.” I’d let Sarah know this before but felt the need to explain again.

 

“I’m just happy to be here, babe. Truly.” Sarah got on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek.

 

I tried not to squirm at the public display of affection and wasn’t in denial that Maria’s presence had made it awkward for me. Maria herself didn’t seem to mind the affection, nor did she show it. Instead, she beamed at us.

 

“So glad you could make it, Sarah!” She embraced my girlfriend first, easing some of the tension building in my body. 

 

The witch matched Sarah’s height, but her frame was completely different. Her dark hair reached chin length, and she had the best bangs. Maria had painted her cupid’s bow mouth red and outlined with black lip liner. Her amber eyes had a smoky shadow. She looked every bit the goth girl kind of witch outside of work, where we all wore suits. Her aesthetic completely went with mine. Too similar. Yeah. Too similar. We were meant to be friends.

 

 

“Blessed Imbolc.” She kissed my cheek as she embraced me next. Her magic was warm as her breath on my skin. She smelled of herbs, loam, and witch light. It was such a familiar scent that Maria felt like home. I shook that thought right out of my head. 

 

“May Brigid’s fire burn away the chill of winter,” I replied, kissing her cheek. A tinge of guilt warmed my face as I caught Sarah’s expression when I broke away.

 

A woman with pink hair and white antlers approached, saving me from further awkwardness. “Enjoy the ritual. Gotta go!” 

 

I took off without further explanation.

 

“Blessed Imbolc, mami. ” I kissed her cheek and then looked around anywhere but at Sarah and Maria retreating to the fray of revelers. “Is Auntie Rhi here yet?” 

 

For the briefest of moments, Miriam furrowed her brow, but she quickly recovered from her initial confusion. We could be the queens of avoiding heavy topics and unspoken feelings. Instead, she answered my question. “She and Daystar will be here soon. It took a bit to get him to come. This is still hard for him.”

 

I nodded, a note of sadness dampening the moment. Ezmal, Daystar’s mother, had first welcomed my mother and I to this ritual with her coven. Her loss wasn’t as sharply felt as when she first left us, but it still pained me to think about it.

 

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” 

 

“Blessed Imbolc to you, Auntie Rhi.” I turned and hugged her, and Daystar in turn. I held the latter a bit longer. He patted my back, told me I was a good girl in Kairska, and then joined his friends from the coven. 

 

“She’s twenty-six, not a teenager anymore!” Rhi shouted at his back.

 

“It’s fine, Auntie.” I sighed. I knew what it was like to lose a parent.

 

“Ready?” Miriam asked and then took my hand in her right and Rhiannon’s in her left. 

 

A trumpet blared, signaling for all those gathered to make a circle. Everyone began to sing. I had told Sarah there was no sense in learning the words. 

 

On the other side of the bonfire, there was a statue of Brigid made of wood, erected specifically for this ritual. We three broke from the circle.  

 

“Blessed Brigid, guardian of hearth and forge, we welcome your return! As you kindle the fires of spring, so do we kindle hope in our hearts.”

 

 

We made offerings to the fire first. Herbs from mami’s garden, a small piece of spun wool, and a coin. 

 

A witch named Peggy Sue broke from the circle and presented us with unlit torches. She hurried back to the circle and joined hands with her daughters.

 

In unison, Rhi, mami, and I used the bonfire to light the torches. As the three aspects of the Mórrígan, we presented ourselves to the effigy of the daughter she’d made with Dagda. We sang a song to her, asking her to bring forth spring with her light and lit the effigy.

 

At first, Brigid was simply wood and fire. Then the scent of a forge filled my nostrils, and the eyes of the effigy glowed green. The color of my mother’s eyes and that of fae light—the wild magic of all fae. Soon all the flames burned green. The burning effigy became almost solid. 

 

I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to. We’d meant to honor and summon her, but not in such a tangible way. 

 

Brigid pointed a finger at me. “Mother of mine once. Mother of mine twice.”

 

Then the effigy lost solidity and became just flame and smoke, devoid of life once more. The witches, fae, and druids all broke the circle and made for the food tables. Did they see the goddess as I had?

 

I questioned whether I should speak to my mother and aunt about it. Perhaps it was a vision meant just for me.

 

Rhiannon whistled. “Well, that was awkward. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’d had a healer perform sterilizing years ago.”

 

“Perhaps the goddess had meant in spirit,” my mother said hastily and patted Auntie Rhi’s shoulder. It wasn’t a lie, but a guess. 

 

 

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that they’d seen it too.

 

 

“She was talking to me,” I said quietly. “You don’t have to make me feel better about it.” 

 

My mother cleared her throat but said nothing. They both gave me worried looks. 

 

Sarah and Maria approached along with Hugo, Jaime, and Derek, saving me from further discussion. None of them had seen the goddess, it seemed. Sarah didn’t mention it at all, and I know she’d have questions if she had. So, I didn’t bring it up. If Brigid had meant for them to hear, they would have.

 

We ate and sang songs. Sarah laughed and said this was the best religious event she’d ever been to and asked a lot of questions. Miriam answered most of them, so I was free to sit with my thoughts.

 

Maria tapped me on the shoulder. “Can I speak to you in private for a moment?” 

 

“Sorry to take her away. It’s a small work thing that can’t wait.” She apologized to Sarah.

 

My girlfriend, enraptured by a story Daystar and his brothers were telling about their old days of the traveling Baba Yaga coven, waved us off. 

 

When we were out of earshot, Maria gave the dying embers of the former effigy a distrustful glance. She spoke in rapid Spanish, “I saw her come to life and talk to you. No one else did except Hugo.”

 

I exhaled. “Yeah.”

 

“Well, do we report to Director Tan that a goddess thought to be ascended to the Summerlands breached into our world?”

 

Maria, her brothers and I were all agents for the International Supernatural Enforcement Agency. Thinking about it from that angle gave pause.

 

“Brigid caused no harm.”

 

“Brigid made a prophecy, and one that not everyone could see. So that means she could get into our heads despite shielding and wearing protective wards. Her intention was obvious. She’s coming back. What do you think she wants?”

 

Maria’s argument seemed logical, but it was panic. For a moment, her panic became mine, but I rejected her perspective. That wasn’t what was happening. I wouldn’t let it.

 

I put a hand on her shoulder. “Turn your agent brain off and your witch intuition on, friend. Brigid told me, an aspect of the Mórrígan, that I would be a mother in the future, not that she was coming back to take over the world. The future isn’t set. That is one path. I’m not ready to have a kid, and Sarah and I definitely aren’t in talks about IVF or adoption.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to add that last bit, but let it go.

 

Maria visibly relaxed. “You’re right. I’ll relay to Hugo what you told me. We'll hold off saying anything to the Director.”

 

"Let's get back to celebrating." 

I smiled, not fully feeling relieved myself. My mother had always taught me belief mattered, especially when dealing with the powerful. We couldn’t live our lives based on what they wanted. But, I also knew gods and goddesses. This wouldn't be the last I'd hear from Brigid.

 

This short story takes place after the events of Wings and Fangs

and before the next book in the Supernatural Legacies series not yet published Blood and Spirit where Jada takes center stage as the main character.  Jada first appeared in Eastside Hedge Witch

Copyright 2026 T.J. Deschamps @ Witch Works Publishing, LLC.