Hidden coven the comple.., p.4
Hidden Coven- The Complete Series, page 4
I turned, counting the graves. Twenty-three sacrifices to their precious core. Too many.
Quinn placed a hand on his father’s gravestone. How old had he been when his dad chose to sacrifice himself?
“Each of them knew the risks,” he said.
“Hush, child. It’s not her business.” Quinn glared. Either he didn’t like to be called child, or he disagreed with his mother’s assessment.
“How many vestals are there?” I asked. The idea of being shackled to that core sickened me.
“Twelve right now,” Quinn said quietly. “Though we have several more in training.”
“And will they end up here too? Does the core devour them all?”
“Not all.” He pointed at the graves. “They were well-trained volunteers. Many more have lived through their service to the core and retired in good health. The core isn’t a killer. It’s just a vessel, a giant battery funneling magic from the ley-line to the ward. Those who are strong enough to be a link in that chain survive. It’s an honor to serve, and retired vestals are treated like heroes.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” I said. “Do they get gold broomsticks?”
Jane scowled. I’d pissed her off and I didn’t care. I was tired of being the emotional piñata. Information, sensations and forebodings overloaded my synapses. I needed time to process.
Jane, ever watchful, saw the quiet frustration on my face. She spoke a hushed word to Quinn and left, passing by the attendants who rushed in and out of Siranda’s cairn. The seer was quiet, but the silence felt like the calm before a storm.
“What did she say?” I asked.
“She’s going up to make lunch. You’re welcome to join us.” His tone gave no indication if he wanted me to or not.
I looked around at the graves. So much death. I didn’t know if these fallen witches were brave or foolish.
I had no idea what motivated Jane to show me these things, but teaching me magic was only the tip of her plans. The way she watched me—like I was a chimpanzee that surprised everyone with full speech—made me nervous. And what did the coven need so badly to hide from? They had enemies; that was clear enough. But surely a group of trained witches could take on one man. What was it about Koro that scared them enough to sacrifice themselves guarding against the possibility of his attack?
Jane had called him a demon. That had to be hyperbole. Jane also thought the whole world sought to prosecute witches. How far of a leap was it from the Inquisition to demons? And where did the seer fit in?
“What happened to Siranda’s coven?” I asked. “She foresaw their doom, right?”
Quinn nodded. “They died. Most of them anyway. The girl she called to sacrifice caught a mutated form of tuberculosis and passed it on to her entire coven. Their homes were burned by a neighboring village, but Siranda was already gone by then.”
So, Siranda wasn’t just white eyes and bluster.
And I was going to kill her.
I was no murderer. The only way I could be responsible for her death was through blundering incompetence, something I seemed to excel at lately. My chest ached from my battle with the core. Jane’s revelations had done nothing to calm my fears. This place was dangerous. These people played with forces I couldn’t begin to grasp.
But I couldn’t go away knowing my ignorance could cause harm.
“Jane said she would train me. If I stay for a week, will I know enough to get through the ward myself?”
“Yes and no.” Quinn narrowed his eyes. “We will train you, if that’s what you want. But I won’t let you come and go at will. I won’t key you to the ward. And when you leave, you go blindfolded. You won’t be able to come back.”
“I see.” I already figured Quinn wasn’t the trusting sort, but this was a new level of paranoia.
His tone softened. “You have a gift. And we will teach you to use it. But we can’t let our guard down. Not now.”
“Because of Koro.”
He nodded. I had a choice to make.
“Is there some place I can make a phone call?”
Intersection
Coven island was truly off the grid. No electricity, no running water. No Internet or cell phone connection. The little guy who wandered around asking “Can you hear me now?” never made it to this place.
“You should get a couple of bars out there,” Quinn said, handing me his phone. We stood at the end of a stone jetty that cut into the river. The ward hummed like a high intensity electrical grid.
“Is that the Anneke River?” I asked. “No, never mind. You can’t give away your secrets. I get it. My status is strictly need-to-know.”
Quinn’s stony expression said he didn’t trust me. Well, the feeling was mutual. But I had made my decision. I was staying, at least for now. I didn’t need to trust Quinn or Jane. I only needed to learn from them.
“How do I get through the ward?” I asked. Quinn had said it probably wouldn’t kill me, but those weren’t odds I could accept.
“I’ll create a mini-ward around us, like a shield.” He pulled me toward him. His grin was a bit feral. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite. Usually.”
I answered him with a smile of my own, but the corners of my mouth wobbled. Quinn brought out a paradox of emotions. He could be soothing or unnerving. Right now, he made me nervous. For that matter, the giant invisible fence made me nervous. Not usually a jittery person, I had no outlet for these uncomfortable feelings.
Quinn pulled me tight against him, my back to his chest. He tensed in response to the touch. Good. He was uncomfortable too.
“I can’t project the shield far, so you need to stay close.” His voice rumbled beside my ear. He stood six inches taller than me, and I felt completely enveloped by his embrace. The nervous jumble in my gut morphed into something more slippery and nebulous.
With our left hands clasped tightly and wrapped around my middle, Quinn worked his mojo. Raw power rolled off him like waves of heat off a summer road. The air shimmered and thickened. I was acutely aware of every inch of his body touching mine, from collar, to chest, to long thigh.
“Walk slowly,” he said gruffly.
We shuffled down the gravel jetty. His knees bumped the back of my thighs with every step. We stumbled and my head knocked his chin. My ears popped and we broke through the coven’s ward.
“You have to do this every time you leave the island?” I squirmed, wanting to shake out my arms, but Quinn held me fast.
“No. The ward is keyed to me. I only needed protection for you.”
“Well…thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. He’d been my white knight so many times, I’d lost track.
“I’d like to give you some privacy, but if I drop this ward, I’m not sure I’ll be able to rekindle it.” His voice sounded strained. The heat of the day seemed to melt us together. I dared not turn to look at him. I dared not move.
“That’s okay. No private calls to make.” I fiddled one-handed with the phone. He punched in the password to unlock it. I dialed my store first.
“The Woolery, how may I help you?” a cheery voice said.
“Hi Danielle, it’s Bobbi. I won’t be coming in today.”
Quinn shifted. The button of his jeans grated against my back. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the voice at the other end of the phone.
“Hey, boss. I kinda figured that. It’s already past noon. Are you sick?”
I thought about saying yes. It would be a small lie. I felt crushed from my magic bombshell, but Danielle was a busybody. She’d want to bring me soup and muffins.
“No. I’m fine. I just had a family emergency, and I’ll be out of town for a few days. Think you can hold the fort?”
Quinn’s breath tousled my loose hair.
“Me? Hold the fort? You mean I’m in charge? Oh, wow! That’s awesome!”
Awesome. Right.
“I’ll be back on Monday. Don’t burn down the shop before then.” I tried to make it sound like a joke, but Danielle attracted disaster.
“Sure. No prob. Have fun. I mean, sorry about the family thing. Hope it works out.”
“Thanks. Is Molly there? Can I speak to her?”
“Just a sec.” I heard the phone clatter on the counter.
Molly McFadden ran the knitting bee that met at the shop three times a week. She’d been a friend of my mother’s, and I’d known her all my life. She wasn’t technically an employee, but she’d keep Danielle from getting in too much trouble. The family emergency excuse wouldn’t fly with her because she was also my dad’s new live-in girlfriend, a situation I was still getting used to. Molly knew my entire family consisted of my dad, my brother Ryan, and two sisters, who’d both moved out west and I almost never saw.
The brisk wind coming over the water zipped through my thin t-shirt. I shuddered and Quinn gripped me tighter.
“Bobbi? Are you okay?” Molly’s voice came through a crackle of static.
“I’ve got a bad connection here,” I said, already looking for an excuse to cut the conversation short. “I was supposed to help Dad with the goat fences this weekend. Tell him that I’ll be there next week instead.”
There was a long silence on the line.
“Are you in trouble?”
I sighed. I could actually hear Molly pursing her lips. The woman was damned perceptible.
“I’m fine, really.” I didn’t know how much to tell her, but she wouldn’t be satisfied with half-truths. “Look, I’m just taking some time off. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. I promise.” There. Maybe she’d think I’d met some guy and run away with him. She’d like that.
“Fine. Come for dinner on Sunday.”
We said goodbye and hung up. I turned slightly, conscious of my body sliding against Quinn’s. His slow smile tugged at some hidden girl parts that I hadn’t thought about in a long time.
“You own a store?” he asked. I wondered how much of the conversation he’d heard.
“The Woolery on Main Street. In Ashlet,” I clarified, in case we’d come farther than I thought last night.
“I know the place. There’s usually a clutch of old hens inside, knitting and eating scones. Somehow, I can’t picture you there.” He cocked his head as if looking at me in a new light.
“We don’t always knit. Sometimes we spin yarn.”
He quirked up one eyebrow. It was a good look, cheeky and sexy at the same time.
“I like wool,” I said lamely. The eyebrow stayed raised and I felt the need to justify. “My mother gave me a rescue sheep when I was eight. I fell in love with all things woolly.” That would be my adopted mother, but I didn’t get into specifics. Quinn had his secrets. I could have mine.
“I get it,” he said. “Witches are often in tune with natural things—fibers, rocks, plants. And animals probably sense power in you too.”
I shrugged. My palm was slick with sweat where it pressed against his.
“Here’s the deal,” I said. “I’ll stay for a week, but I can’t promise more. And no one is going to mess me up with confusion spells, got it?”
“A week,” he confirmed. “No funny business.”
“And I expect to learn some real magic.”
“Agreed. Now I need to let go of this shield.” His complexion had turned wan. His free hand snaked between us and groped for the bug charm. “Let’s get you back to Jane’s house for a rest. This evening we can talk more about your training.”
I nodded and we stumbled back through the ward, an awkward eight-limbed beast. Somewhere in that shuffle, my fear and distrust chaffed away. I was a witch, and this oddly seductive man was going to teach me everything he knew about magic.
Veneration
We didn’t make it to Jane’s house. As soon as we stepped into the square, people surrounded Quinn, pestering him with questions about everything from a lame donkey to missing candles for the Lammas festival to a squabble between two women over a cat. Olga popped a couple of buns in our hands while Quinn doled out orders, advice and sympathy in equal measure.
“Sorry,” he said, wiping crumbs from his hands. “I’ve got to take care of a few things. Go back to Jane’s and rest. No one will bother you.”
“I can help with the donkey.”
Quinn frowned. Last night’s trauma had faded like a nightmare upon waking, but my muscles ached as if I’d overdone it at the gym. The walk to the jetty and back had tired me. But I wouldn’t sleep, not with so many new ideas spinning in my head. And I didn’t want to hang around with Jane. Honestly, she scared me a bit.
“You shouldn’t overdo it.” His scowl was impressive.
“Really, I’m fine, and I’m pretty handy around a hoof. My father keeps a rescue ranch.” He nodded reluctantly and handed me off to a young witch named Aidan.
“At least eat something,” he called. I waved him off, shoving a bun in my mouth with a grin, and followed Aidan.
We headed down the one village street and turned off at a large weathered barn. With creamy skin and a pink button nose, Aidan was a boy in the last throes of childhood. His shoulders had yet to fill out and his hands seemed too big for his gangly arms. He wore a sullen, wary expression.
“Stubby’s around back in the small pasture.” He scuffed his shoe against the barn door, not meeting my eye. “I tried to put him on stall rest, but he won’t stay alone in the barn. He’s pretty sick. He’ll probably die.” He said those last words with such nonchalance that my heart went cold. I touched his sleeve and he raised his head. Aidan’s gaze burned with sorrow. The expression was so raw, I took a step back.
“Well, let’s see if we can’t fix him up,” I said with a smile I didn’t feel. I knew what it was like to get overly attached to farm animals.
Stubby turned out to be a fat donkey with a black cross on his shoulders. He stood evenly on all fours as he grazed, but when I approached he hobbled sideways, clearly favoring his front right leg. I picked up the foot and the sour stench of thrush hit me.
“When was the last time someone picked out his feet?”
Aidan shrugged. “Dunno. I just help out when Bruce is away.”
Typical. Most people get a donkey and never look at its feet, thinking because it doesn’t have shoes, it doesn’t need foot care. I didn’t know who Bruce was, but I’d give him a talking to when he got back.
“Well, let’s get him into the barn.”
After much cajoling, begging and cursing, we managed to get Stubby into a stall where I picked out his feet. I sorted through supplies in the tack room but found no antiseptic wash. This village really was off the grid. I wouldn’t find anything as handy as iodine here. I settled for old fashioned soap and water, but made a mental note to ask Quinn about getting proper supplies for the donkey. They must have some kind of first aid here.
Then I set about cleaning all the stalls so the infection didn’t spread. Aidan sulked around the barn.
“Here.” I put the handles of a wheelbarrow in his hands. “Why don’t you muck out that stall?” He nodded, but when I looked up a few minutes later, he was gone. I didn’t care. I’d grown up around rescue critters and enjoyed barn chores.
I knew I should be tired but my second wind had come in, and I coasted on Olga’s magic treats and adrenaline. For the rest of the afternoon I tidied the tack room and barn, and then threw cracked corn in the yard for the chickens. I found cabbage and apples for the goats. Sweeping up hay and dust was like meditation. The gentle swap-swap of the broom lulled me.
It had been one hell of a twenty-four hours. Even though my fire spell had bombed, it had unlocked some secret part of me. My wellspring. The source of my aether.
Magic.
A hysterical laugh burbled up from my throat.
Light into heat, my ass. It turned out magic didn’t follow the rules. It was rude, erratic and unfathomable. Spells, wards and covens—Quinn spoke of these unbelievable things with ease. I envied him. He’d been born to this life and knew from childhood that he had this power within—power to affect real change in the world. At almost thirty years old, would I ever be comfortable wielding my aether? Would my wellspring ever feel as integrated into my body as my heart and lungs?
Would I ever stop blundering into wards?
“You look like you’ve been dragged behind a horse,” Quinn said from the doorway. My broom jerked to a stop. I followed his gaze down to my clothes. A smear of mud had dried across my shirt. The white shorts were green with donkey slobber.
“Came close to it.” I leaned heavily on the broom. “Turns out Stubby is short for stubborn.” The donkey glanced up from his stall, munching hay as if nothing could be farther from the truth.
“Here, I figured you’d want this.” He handed me a bottle of water and I drank it down.
“So, when do I start learning magic?” I asked, putting away the broom. “Not that I mind taking care of the animals, but I’ve got a lot to learn in a few days.”
“Tomorrow.” He studied me with a small smile. “I wanted you to rest today, but I guess that didn’t work out.”
I shrugged. “Barn work is cathartic.” And I did feel better. My muscles, cramped from the locked spell, had warmed and loosened. I felt like me again, only bone-weary tired.
“Well, let’s get some real food in you before Olga’s baked supplements wear off,” he said. “And Jane’s waiting.”
That sounded ominous.
*
In the end, Jane had to wait a little longer. I found clean clothes in my room, but I had to shower off the grime before I put them on. I had done too much today. My legs were jelly and my stomach painfully empty. The need for food warred with the desire to hide in my room. I didn’t have energy to spar with Jane, and the thought of seeing Quinn again set other conflicting emotions fluttering. Mostly, I wanted to sleep and forget them all for a few hours. I glanced longingly at my bed before heading out the door.
