Queen of Swords

Last night my daughter and I were visiting my sister and brother-in-law, and the talk turned to woo-woo. I told them about my initiation and the Two of Swords aspect -- and my sister got a bit bristly, because although I am the Queen of Swords and she is the Queen of Cups, she has always felt like the Two of Swords is one of her cards.

Was it non-rational of her to get defensive because that pattern was a part of my initiation? Yes -- but I've been equally non-rational about things involving her. Fortunately, now that we're both in our forties, we're usually able to identify when we're being non-rational and get past it, but that doesn't mean the impulses don't come up.

I also told them about an unexpected and somewhat unsettling encounter I had with my underworld knife after I got home -- in which the knife started talking to me via images, something which had never happened before.

In response to that story, my brother-in-law, who is a warrior, brought out his two magical blades.

( Snow White and Rose Red Choose Their Blades )

Last night, after a sequence of events I am not sharing publically, my extremely potent stone knife ended up broken off at the hilt. I knew that I needed to take it with me to the island today and bury it, even before getting confirmation from one of my teacher's inner contacts.

So I wrapped both pieces of the knife -- blade and hilt -- in a black cloth and put it in the carry-on bag I was using to carry my magical items. I put the bag in the trunk of my car and hit the road.

When I reached the island, I figured I would take the pieces to the Earth Sanctuary tomorrow and bury them near one of the paths. But as I was driving north, I suddenly saw Newman Road and knew that was the turn-off and I needed to take it now.

I didn't go to the labyrinth or the dolman, but took the bundle and a bottle of water and headed up the trail. Before I left the parking lot, I told the spirits of the place what I needed to do, asked permission to leave the pieces of the knife there, and felt assured that it would be okay.

At first I wasn't sure it was actually going to work. There hasn't been a lot of rain, and the ground was dry and I didn't have anything to dig with. Also, there's a lot of underbrush along the path, and I didn't want to go crashing through it. After a while I found a small but sturdy stick and received permission to use it as a digging stick, so I took it with me.

Finally I found the spot: a tree with raised roots, under which an oval stone had been deliberately placed. The ground in front of it was thick with pine needles, and the green plants near it were widely-spaced enough to allow for digging. I asked the tree for permission to leave the knife there, and received it.

The ground was loose and rich and moved easily in response to my digging stick -- but I had neglected to ask the permission of the guardians of the tree: the nettles which clustered and twined between path and trunk. They left me a rash on my right forearm (my first nettle stings) to remind me not to slight the smaller plants in the future.

I dug a hole the unwrapped the bundle. To my surprise, only the haft was there. The blade (which I think I had wrapped first/deepest) was gone.

I spent a few moments going WTF?? then proceeded with the ritual. I blessed the water in my bottle, asking blessings for the knife, the spirit of the knife, and those whose hands had crafted it, then poured it over the haft. I spread the earth over the hole and it didn't look like anything had been disturbed. I gave the rest of the water to the nettles.

All along the path back, I looked to see if the blade had slipped out of the bundle, but never found it. It wasn't in the trunk of my car, nor in the carry-on. I've looked on the floor of my bedroom since coming home and haven't seen it.

I have my suspicions about what may have happened to it, but they defy the usual expectations of natural law.