“She’s the Lost Raven.” Grace’s face lit up.
I tried to make sense of what they’d said. My biological father had been a High Council warlock, and he’d died five years ago. What or who was this Ursitori Grace spoke of? Calandra had told me Marie cast the binding spell. Another lie. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Kaleb had said not to trust her.
“She’s here,” Boris said when his phone chirped and the wooden doors opened.
I glanced over my shoulder as a girl my age entered the room. Dressed in a black skirt and white polo shirt with a purple raven stitched on the right-hand side, she had bright blue eyes and the prettiest curly red hair I’d ever seen. She certainly didn’t look like a fae. I’d expected wings or pointed ears, but this girl had neither.
She stopped next to me and curtsied.
“Our apologies for interrupting your day. We just need a yes or a no,” Boris said.
The girl nodded and turned to face me. “Yes.”
The High Council witches grew quiet and glanced at each other as the pretty redhead hurried from the room.
“What does ‘Yes’ mean?” I asked.
“Is that the coven book?” Julius asked Calandra, ignoring my question.
“Yes. May I have your assistance?” Calandra walked toward me, holding the book wide open.
Julius stood and pulled a knife from his boot. “Sienna, this is a magical knife. When I cut your hand, it won’t hurt, and it’ll heal quickly.”
I jutted out my chin, pissed they hadn’t bothered to explain who that girl was. And now they planned to cut me. My gaze lowered to the black-handled knife with a three-headed dragon engraved on the blade. “Why are you cutting my hand?”
“We need the blood from the lifeline on your right hand. It’s the only way to prove if you’re the Lost Raven.” Calandra laid the book across my lap. “After Julius cuts your hand, you need to place your hand on this page and read it to us.”
“It’s blank,” I said as I glanced down at the page she’d pointed to.
“Just do as Calandra says. You can trust us,” Grace urged.
Trust them? They had a girl come in and look at me without explaining what was going on. Now they wanted to cut my hand and for me to touch a blank page in their book. This all sounded crazy.
“Please.” Julius gave me a gentle smile as he held out his hand. “I promise it won’t hurt.”
Heaving a sigh, I reluctantly laid my right hand in his. I had nothing to lose, and I wanted to learn more about this Lost Raven. As Julius had promised, I felt no pain. I carefully placed my hand on the book and watched my blood seep into the page before disappearing. Words slowly appeared as if someone was writing in the book with a red pen. After clearing my throat, I read aloud:
“Seek the Lost Raven, the Raven of Five
Born on the blue moon and blessed by the Ursitori
Forever bound by cursed blood.
Follow the mark of the beast, the sign of greatness
When the Raven consumes his heart, a powerful army rises
And the wolves will fall one by one.
It shall be then, when the deadly battle is upon us, two become one.”
Julius wiped the knife with a handkerchief before tucking it back into his boot and returning to his chair.
“What’s the Ursitori?” I asked, remembering how Grace had said I was the Lost Raven. Did she think this was about me? “And what’s this part about the wolves falling and a deadly battle?”
“The Ursitori are the three fairies of fate.” Calandra sat in her chair, relaxing as if a huge burden had been lifted. “Do you remember when you asked me about the Dinescu Prophecy? The one about a powerful witch with an army. That witch is you; you’re the Lost Raven. You’ll control the five elements and consume a beast’s heart, which will lead to the wolves’ downfall.”
“This must be a joke.” I laughed at the ridiculous idea of a prophecy being about me. I didn’t even know how to be a witch. No way could I lead an army or eat someone’s heart. Yuck. “You told me the witch from the prophecy was already being trained.”
“I lied,” Calandra said.
“Then why should I believe anything you say?” I glared at her, upset she kept lying over and over as if it was no big deal.
“Marie Dinescu wrote that prophecy almost twenty years ago. If you weren’t the Lost Raven, the page would’ve remained blank. It’s not the first time we’ve cut a witch’s hand and pressed their blood to that page. Those words won’t disappear,” Calandra said.
“No. It can’t be me.” I stared at the prophecy, refusing to believe her. They might be right about me being the Lost Raven, but no way would I ever destroy the wolves. “What’s this part at the end about two becoming one?”
“We’re not sure,” Calandra said. “I was hoping there might be more to the prophecy than Marie told the High Council.”
“It must be related to the beast’s heart.” Julius folded his arms. “Maybe you absorb his powers.”
“That makes sense,” Ava said.
“She needs training.” Grace turned to Calandra. “Did she demonstrate any powers in Woodlake? With Marie being telekinetic and Cyprian a powerful healer, Sienna must have powers even with the fae’s binding spell. She did kill an olden and cast a love spell on that alpha wolf.”
“She has an affinity for the air element. I saw it myself the night we rescued her. She had a wolf and a vampire suspended above the ground, but she wasn’t aware of it,” Calandra said.
I stared at her in shock. Had it not occurred to her that I might need to know about this? I vaguely recalled seeing Kaleb and the vampire in the air before a gust of wind had knocked me to the ground. Apparently, I wasn’t as powerless as I’d thought.
“We need to remove the binding spell,” Julius said.
“We can’t. Only a fae can remove fae magic. We’ll have to let the binding spell fade on its own,” Boris said. “Perhaps Marie’s grimoire has a spell to remove it. I know she had great knowledge of fae magic.”
“I searched for her grimoire in Woodlake, but couldn’t find it,” Calandra said.
“That’s because Sienna has Marie’s grimoire.” Boris’ gaze lowered to my backpack. “She and Garrett were looking at it in the foyer.”
Calandra’s lips twitched, but she said nothing.
“It’s no use. The pages are blank.” I pulled Marie’s grimoire out of my backpack and held it open for them to see. “Garrett told me there might be a spell on it.”
“He’s right,” Boris said. “When I picked it up, I could feel the energy vibrating. It’s not fae magic. Probably a simple protection spell, easy to remove with the right blood.”
More blood? No way.
Julius pulled out his knife again. “We can do the left hand this time. A protection spell on a grimoire isn’t usually specific. The blood can come from anywhere.”
“Do I press my hand on any page?” I held out my left hand, making a mental note to get a magical knife.
“No. There should be a page with a pentacle.” Kneeling in front of me, Julius handed me the knife. He opened the grimoire and flicked through the pages. “See, here it is. Press your blood on this page, and the words will appear.”
My cheeks heated when Julius’ hand accidentally brushed against mine and he looked up at me with his stunning hazel eyes. Lowering my gaze, I quickly cut my hand and pressed it against the page.
Julius’ eyebrow rose as he wiped his knife again and tucked it back into his boot. “It didn’t work.”
I lifted my hand, realizing Julius was right. Although my blood had seeped into the page and disappeared, nothing had happened. No words appeared as they had in the coven book. “Should I try the other hand?”
“No,” Ava said as Julius returned to his chair. “Marie must’ve used someone else’s blood. Someone she trusted. You’ll have to figure out who or learn how to break the protection spell. Of course, we’ll help.”
Ava made it sound eas
y, but with no training or powers, that could take years. How would I know who Marie trusted? Mom had told me she hadn’t trusted any of the High Council witches, which explained why none of them had jumped up to offer their blood.
“Who should train her?” Boris asked. “Her powers are still blocked, and we don’t know how long. It could be weeks or months.”
“It should be me,” Ava insisted.
“Are you joking?” Calandra laughed. “You’re the last person Marie would want to train her daughter. I recall you two getting into a fight over a spell.”
“I might have some free time,” Julius said.
Tuning out their conversation, I watched as the cut on my hand healed and the blood oath reminder on my index finger faded. I’d fulfilled my oath, but now this prophecy presented a bigger problem. How could I learn to use my powers without causing the downfall of the wolves?
Chapter 7
Calandra and I left the Main Hall through a back door. Outside, on the side of the road, a man sat in a stretch limo golf cart that had room for ten people, including the driver. He started the golf cart as we took a seat two rows behind him.
“Where to?” the man asked as we drove in the opposite direction of the coven’s main gates.
“Hale House,” Calandra replied. She pointed to a stone building, up ahead on the right side. “That’s the library. Next door is the Healing Place, where we have doctors and nurses available if you get sick. You’ll see there’s no reason to leave the coven, and you’re safe here.”
When we reached a roundabout, we turned right onto another street with large two-story brick mansions built on both sides. The houses were spaced about fifty feet apart and looked almost identical because of their matching black shutters and front porches. The color of the bricks and the front yards were the only things that differed. While most yards were well kept, several had yellowing grass and wilted plants.
The driver stopped in front of a house that had neatly manicured lawn and flowerbeds overflowing with blue and purple hydrangeas. If the coven gave a ‘yard of the month’ award, this house would definitely win.
Several girls sat in white wicker furniture on the front porch; they appeared to be busy reading as Calandra and I climbed out of the golf cart. One of the girls, who had wavy blonde hair, glanced our way before whispering to her friends.
“Shall I wait?” the man asked.
“No.” Calandra shook her head. “I have business at one of the other houses. I’ll walk back.”
As the golf cart pulled away from the curb, I swung my backpack over my shoulder and clutched my plastic bag. I couldn’t help but notice that this house, with its perfect yard, also seemed to have perfect residents. Each girl should have been wearing an “I’m perfect” T-shirt or had the words stamped across their forehead. Make that stamped across their perfect forehead. How was I supposed to fit in? Their flowing hair, lean legs, straight white teeth, upright posture, and clothes with matching sandals were all…well…perfect.
“What did you call this house?” I asked, tightening my grip on my plastic bag.
“Hale House. It will be your home while you’re at the coven. The girls here are full-fledged witches, very well trained. They might not be too friendly at first but give it time. You can learn a lot from them.” She waved as one of the girls on the front porch walked toward us. It was the red-haired girl I’d seen in the Great Room. “Orla will show you your room and help get you settled. Do your best to be nice and get along with everyone.”
“You’re leaving?” I sounded way more upset than I’d intended. “I have questions and—”
“We’ll talk tomorrow. Meet me at the library after breakfast, and we’ll start your training.”
“You’re training me?” I groaned. Out of all the High Council witches, why Calandra? I’d have preferred Grace or even Julius. I should’ve paid more attention, instead of tuning out their conversation.
“Yes.” She turned her attention to Orla. “This is Sienna. I expect everyone to make her feel welcome and not give her any problems.”
“Of course, Calandra.” Orla bowed her head slightly and smiled at me. “Hello, Sienna. I’m Orla Kreanga. Welcome to Hale House. We’ve been expecting you. Please, follow me.”
Kreanga? Was she Boris’ daughter? Other than her red hair, she looked nothing like him.
Orla walked up to the house and opened the front door without introducing me to the girls on the front porch. We stepped into a foyer with dark wooden floors and a floor-length mirror on one wall. The other side was a communal living room with a fireplace, couches, two armchairs, coffee table, a television, and paintings on the wall. Two of the paintings were of fire-breathing dragons flying high in the sky above fields of flowers, while a third depicted a dark forest with a young woman in a white dress.
“Tuesday’s movie night, but feel free to hang out in the living room anytime.” Orla walked down the hallway and pointed to an archway on our right. “Kitchen and dining room are over there. The food’s restocked every Sunday. We don’t have set meal hours, except for dinner at seven o’clock. Please be on time. We take turns at cooking dinner, and we all help keep the house clean. There’s a chart on the refrigerator. We’ll add your name next week.”
She walked to the left and waited at the bottom of the wide carpeted staircase. “There’s a half bathroom down here for your guests. All the bedrooms are upstairs. Each bedroom has its own bathroom, which you share with your roommate. Do you have any questions?”
As I followed her up to the second floor, I admired the intricate dragon design on the wooden banister. “You said roommate?”
“Yes.” Orla turned right, and we walked past several doors. “Your roommate’s Rosella. She’s not bad once you get to know her. Whatever you do, don’t let her boss you around. She likes to think she’s in charge, but she’s not.”
I nodded, not sure how to feel about this Rosella person. But at least Orla seemed nice.
She stopped at the fifth door and turned the doorknob, but the door didn’t open. A voice yelled from inside as something heavy hit the floor.
“Unlock the door. I’m here with Sienna,” Orla said.
The bedroom door flew open, but no one stood in the doorway to greet us. Two girls sat on a bed covered with a teal comforter while a girl with long black hair and dark brown eyes picked up a lamp off the floor. She placed the lamp on the nightstand and turned to face me.
I recognized her—Garrett’s sister, the Queen Bee who’d dropped the plate of truffles at the Spring Bash several months ago. How could I ever forget such a rude person? Was she my roommate or one of the other girls?
“This is Sienna. Be nice.” Orla pointed to the other bed and nightstand. “That’s your bed. I’ll get you clean sheets and a blanket.”
As Orla walked out of the room, I set my backpack and plastic bag next to the bed. On my side of the room, an empty bookcase sat next to a desk, and an open door tucked away in the corner revealed a bathroom.
“She doesn’t look powerful,” one of the girls whispered.
“She’s probably not,” Garrett’s sister said. “Sienna, the walk-in closet is on this side of the room. My stuff’s on the left, although it doesn’t look like you have much.”
Crap. Garrett’s sister was my roommate. I bit the inside of my cheek. “You must be my roommate, Rosella?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Rosella Sherrard. My mother’s a High Council witch.”
I nodded and sat on my bed, realizing she hadn’t referred to Ava as her stepmother. That meant Rosella and Garrett were either stepsiblings or half-siblings. “We’ve met before. At the Spring Bash, when you were getting chocolate truffles from the dessert table.”
“That was you?” Rosella laughed and looked over at one of her friends, who’d fixed her gaze on me. “Well?”
“I’m trying.” The girl closed her eyes and clenched both hands into fists.
I glanced from face to face, wondering if they could
communicate telepathically, as they were all looking at each other but not talking. Then I felt it—a slight prickle and pressure against the back of my head.
Damn. The girl was trying to read my mind. Two witches in one day. Was that how they welcomed newcomers?
“What are you doing?” Orla snapped as she returned with sheets and a blanket. “If Calandra finds out—”
“We’re just fooling around, having some fun. It’s no big deal.” Rosella flicked her hair over her shoulder.
“Is there anything you want to know?” Folding my arms, I glared at them as the pressure faded from my head.
Rosella smirked as she and the other two girls headed for the door. As they left the room, Rosella called back, “Don’t touch my stuff.”
“Sorry about that. Everyone’s curious about you, and unfortunately, that won’t be the last time someone tries to poke your mind.” Orla laid the blanket on the desk and handed me the sheets. “You have this strong energy vibrating around you. Like it’s trapped, bursting to get out.”
“Must be the binding spell.” I put the sheets onto the bed, cursing under my breath. I didn’t need a bunch of nosey witches trying to read my mind.
“Well, guess it’s wearing off.” She glanced over at me as she slipped a pillowcase around the pillow. “Are you still getting headaches?”
“Yes.” I placed the blanket on the bed. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Not a problem. If you need anything, I’m just along the hall, two doors down. And if anyone treats you badly, let me know. My father’s on the High Council.”
“Boris is your father?”
She nodded. “No doubt he was unpleasant when you met them. It’s just his way, and I promise he’s not as bad as he seems. Last night, he asked me to keep an eye on you. To make sure you’re comfortable and help with whatever you need.”
Keeping an eye on me sounded like he wanted her to spy. But if that was the case, I doubted Orla would admit it.
Romani Magic (Shifter Blood: Romani Curse Book 3) Page 4