Books 1-3

by B. C. Burgess

  After disappearing and reappearing a dozen times, Layla set her mind on flying, finding it fairly easy to do. But it took a while, because she obsessed over every detail and safety precaution, hovering from the ground inch by careful inch. By the time she reached the treetops, she’d grown comfortable with the weightless feeling, so she shot forward, flying ten easy circles around the clearing.

  “That was amazing,” she gushed, landing in front of her grandmothers. “I’ve never felt so . . . so free.”

  “You’re amazing,” Daleen countered. “No one would ever know you’re new to the gift.”

  “I can’t take all the credit,” Layla returned. “I’ve had excellent teachers.” She bounced and wiggled. She couldn’t hold still, so she turned and grabbed their hands. “Will you fly with me?”

  “Yes,” they agreed, so the three of them soared into the air.

  After a few laps, Layla let go of their hands and halted.

  “Is everything okay?” Morrigan asked, swiftly spinning around.

  “Everything’s great,” Layla answered. “I just want to try something. Will you guys catch me if I fall?”

  “Of course,” they replied.

  Layla grinned as she floated backward, giving herself plenty of room. Then she tucked into a whirlwind of somersaults and horizontal spins. It was like doing them under water, but much smoother and without the resistance of compressed liquid. It felt fantastic, and it didn’t even make her dizzy.

  “Wow,” she breathed, floating upright with perfect balance. “That was fun.”

  “And graceful,” Morrigan added.

  “Beautiful,” Daleen agreed. “We should have hummed a tune to go along with it.”

  “I don’t know how you guys get anything done,” Layla laughed, launching into a back flip. “This is too much fun.”

  Around one, after practicing the art of an emergency landing – the trick was the trajectory of flight at the point of impact combined with focused shock absorption – Layla flew with her grandmas to her house for sandwiches. She hadn’t practiced elemental magic, but she was satisfied with her improvement and figured she better stop while she was ahead. Plus, she didn’t want to use up all the fun in one day.

  Halfway through their meal, Layla steeled her nerve and brought up a scary subject. “I guess I need to meet the rest of the coven soon.”

  Morrigan and Daleen traded glances. Then Morrigan set her sandwich down and dusted crumbs from her fingers. “I’m glad you mentioned it, sweetie, because we need to talk about that.”

  “You’re upset,” Layla concluded. “I know I should have done it sooner, but I’m nervous. I didn’t mean to be rude or disrespectful . . .”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Daleen interrupted. “No one thinks that. Meeting that many people can be stressful, even under the best circumstances, so take as much time as you need. They’ll understand.”

  “Oh,” Layla mumbled. “I thought you might be upset about it.”

  “No,” Morrigan assured. “We would never rush you into something you’re uncomfortable with. Besides, you’re far too special a blessing to upset us.”

  “I’m not perfect,” Layla countered.

  “You’re perfect in our eyes,” Morrigan disagreed, “and that will never change, no matter what you do or don’t do.”

  “I hope I don’t disappoint,” Layla whispered, terrified she wouldn’t live up to the wonderful person everyone seemed to think she was.

  Morrigan turned in her chair and took Layla’s hand. “Listen, sweetie. I know you feel like you have to live up to certain expectations, but that’s not true. We’ll accept you for who you are, and if you make a mistake along the way, that’s okay. There’s nothing you can do or say that will make us regret your homecoming. Now stop being so hard on yourself. You’ve been magnificent every step you’ve taken to get to this point, and we couldn’t be more proud of the way you’re handling things.”

  Moisture blurred Layla’s vision as a lump clogged her throat. “Thank you. I think you’re perfect, too. I’ve never met so many kind and loving people, and I’m really grateful to be a part of it. You and Serafin as well,” she added, turning toward Daleen. “You guys have put your lives on hold for me. And I know it’s selfish , but I’m so glad you have, because I love that I’m getting to spend time with you.”

  “We wouldn’t have it any other way,” Daleen returned.

  A sad thought struck Layla, and her shoulders sagged. “When will you go home?”

  “Well, that’s something we need to talk about, and part of what Morrigan was going to say.”

  “Oh yeah,” Layla remembered, turning to Morrigan. “You were saying something about me meeting everyone.”

  “Yes,” Morrigan confirmed. “But remember, we understand you need time to adjust, so if this doesn’t sound like something you want to do, please tell me. We can easily work around tradition.”

  “Tradition?”

  “Yes. When welcoming a new member, the coven usually partakes in a feast, followed by a magical ceremony. But if you’re uncomfortable with any of it, we can go a different route or give it more time. Everyone will understand either way.”

  Layla took a bite then stared at a windowsill herb garden as she chewed. “Magical ceremony?”

  “Nothing challenging or scary,” Morrigan explained. “It’s a binding ceremony. You see, you’re already connected to six of us, because we share blood with you. Nature laid the foundation of our relationships, and that connection can be felt the moment we meet, so we’re able to bypass the awkwardness and begin building our kinship.”

  Layla understood, because she’d felt it. Meeting her grandparents for the first time had been like rediscovering familiar and dearly missed treasures. Not once since finding herself in their arms had she considered them strangers.

  “The blood connection is a wonderful advantage,” Morrigan went on, “and by performing a binding ritual, we can imitate that bond… to a degree. We’re all family here, despite our differing bloodlines. Quinlan’s family and your grandpa’s family have ties dating back to the fifteen hundreds, and those living today are as close as ever. In fact, Quinlan’s great grandpa Catigern raised Caitrin and Cinnia after their parents were killed in an unfortunate explosion.”

  “What?” Layla blurted.

  “It was a tragic accident,” Morrigan quickly added, “one that had nothing to do with magic. At the risk of not giving the story proper respect, I’ll sum it up. Six members of your grandpa’s family, along with Catigern’s wife and brother, were delivering food to a soup kitchen when the boiler room exploded, killing everyone in the building. Anyway,” she sighed, “I didn’t tell you that to depress you. It happened over fifty years ago. Our family still thrives and we’re closer than ever. So, when a new member comes along, we perform a ceremony that helps us bond with them. By taking part in the ritual, you’ll simply feel a deeper connection with everyone. Am I explaining it well enough?”

  “Yes, and it sounds wonderful – having a close connection with such a large family. But… well, what exactly does the ritual entail?”

  “Nothing strenuous, but you might find it overwhelming, because you’ll connect with everyone in the coven very quickly. After we perform a group ritual, which is just a lovely incantation called upon by the rest of us, we’ll perform individual rituals. This means the nineteen coven members not related to you by blood will need to make physical contact with you while someone else, most likely Caitrin, takes care of the spell work.”

  “What kind of physical contact?”

  “It doesn’t matter as long as it’s skin to skin.”

  “Oh,” Layla mumbled, raising an eyebrow. That didn’t sound too bad. Overwhelming, sure, but worth it. “Is that it?”

  “I should warn you,” Morrigan confessed, “we’re an affectionate group of people, and everyone here already loves you. If physical contact bothers you, we can try to lay down some ground rules, but I can’t guarantee they’ll
be followed. We have . . . wonderfully enthusiastic family members whose excitement tends to run away with them.”

  Layla laughed as she recalled meeting her cousins Banning and Brietta. Both had seemed oddly enthusiastic. Now Layla knew why. Her thoughts turned toward the time she’d spent with Quin. If his actions were any indication, physical contact didn’t bother wizards a bit.

  Thinking about Quin made her all tingly, and she blushed as she looked down. “Okay. I’ll do it. I want to be a member of the coven. Having that many people to love sounds wonderful.”

  Morrigan’s face and aura brightened. “I’m so glad you feel that way, sweetie. Everyone will be thrilled. Is tonight okay, or would you like to give it more time?”

  “It will be overwhelming no matter when I do it. Tonight’s fine.”

  Morrigan grinned and clapped her hands together. “I’m so excited, Layla. This is going to be great. For everyone.”

  Layla returned her smile then frowned at Daleen. “What does that have to do with you leaving?”

  “Well,” Daleen answered, taking Layla’s hand, “Serafin and I love our coven, and of course we miss them, but we’ve missed you more, so if it’s something you want, we’ve decided to relocate.”

  Layla gasped and straightened her shoulders, overjoyed by the idea. Then reality rushed in and she slouched like a popped balloon. “That’s not fair. I can’t ask you to do that. Of course I’d love for you to stay, but I won’t ask you to uproot your lives for me.”

  “You didn’t ask us to do anything. This is something we want to do. We don’t have any grandchildren in Virginia, Layla. You’re it, and we love you so much. To sit there while you’re here, living your beautiful life without us would be torture. We don’t want to miss one more second. We’ve missed too many already, so if you agree, your grandpa and I will happily relocate.”

  Layla burst into tears and flung herself into Daleen’s arms. “I can’t believe you guys would do that for me.”

  “We’d be doing it for all of us,” Daleen soothed. “Being here for you is our top priority. Only our love for each other compares to our love for you.”

  Having witnessed a bonded couple’s love first hand in her parents’ memories, Layla understood the enormity of Daleen’s declaration, and another grateful sob burst from her diaphragm. “I want you to stay. It would be a dream come true.”

  “Then it’s settled. We get to be a part of your family and your coven. Serafin and I will join you in the ceremony tonight.”

  “Really?” Layla asked, finding her grandma’s face. “You’ll do the ritual?”

  “If you don’t mind sharing the spotlight.”

  “Are you kidding? Of course I don’t mind. This is perfect.”

  “I think so, too, darling.”

  Layla smiled as she picked up her sandwich and took a large bite, but by the time she swallowed, she was nervous again. “Will I be meeting everyone for the first time when they’re touching me?”

  “No,” Morrigan answered. “We’ll gather on the lawn before dinner, and the ritual follows the feast, so you can meet everyone at your leisure. We’ll tell them not to charge you all at once, and some of them might actually listen.”

  Layla laughed, once again reminded of Brietta and Banning. “Okay. That’s not as nerve-racking.”

  “Listen,” Morrigan insisted, “if it starts to feel like too much, tell us, and you can take a break. We don’t have to rush.”

  Layla knew she would never make twenty-seven people wait while she took a break, but she nodded anyway, soothing the concern from Morrigan’s deep, peach eyes.

  Daleen reached out to clean their dishes, but Layla grabbed her hand. “May I do it?”

  “Sure,” Daleen agreed, getting to her feet. She walked around the table and pointed out a window. “Send the crumbs to the birds.”

  “Good idea,” Layla approved, gathering the plates.

  After joining Daleen at the window, Layla scanned the backyard and picked a place to send the leftovers. She successfully transferred the tidbits on the first try. Then she magically washed the dishes while watching a sparrow swoop in.

  “That is so convenient,” she noted, resetting the table. “What should we do now?”

  She looked up, finding Morrigan chewing her bottom lip as Daleen’s features furrowed in contemplation.

  “What’s up?” Layla asked, glancing over her shoulder. “Did I do it wrong?”

  “No,” Daleen answered. “It’s just…” She glanced at Morrigan, then back. “We want you to visit your parents’ memorial with us.”

  “Oh,” Layla breathed, knees weakening.

  She blindly reached for a chair then stumbled into it, trying to find her lungs. She’d forgotten her mom was buried nearby, laid to rest with a mere token of her dad, so visiting their memorial hadn’t even occurred to her.

  A hand touched her shoulder, and she jolted, looking up to find Daleen’s sage green eyes brimming with moisture, but she wore a genuine smile.

  “Will you join us?”

  Layla tried to swallow a painful lump, but it wouldn’t go away, so she nodded her terrified agreement.

  Daleen pulled her to her feet then urged her and Morrigan through the back door. Layla let herself be herded, dazedly walking down the deck stairs and into the forest, but her pulse raced and her stomach churned. The pain and sadness she’d witnessed through the magical ring remained fresh in her mind and heavy on her heart, so seeing her parents’ resting place was sure to burst the floodgates.

  She felt a pull on her hand and looked over, finding that her grandmas had halted.

  “You should go ahead,” Daleen suggested, “have your moment alone. Morrigan and I will be right behind you.”

  She let go, and Layla grasped for her hand a few times before making a fist and drawing it to her thigh. Looking ahead, she saw nothing save for tree trunks and foliage. “But . . . I don’t know where to go.”

  “Straight ahead,” Daleen instructed. “You’ll find it. You’ll feel it first, but you’ll see it soon after.”

  “Feel it?” Layla squeaked.

  “Yes,” Daleen confirmed, “you’ll feel it.”

  Layla stared ahead, body trembling, feet frozen.

  “It will be hard,” Daleen added, giving her shoulders a squeeze, “but you can handle it, and you’ll feel better once you have. We’ll be right behind you if you need anything.”

  Layla nodded, so Daleen gently shoved her in the right direction, breaking the glue holding her to the forest floor. Trudging one heavy foot in front of the other, she roamed away from her support system, using tree trunks to steady her shaky balance.

  As she stepped over the bulging roots of a western hemlock, the feeling Daleen warned her about punched her in the gut, only . . . it wasn’t so much a punch as it was a pull. Invisible strings lassoed her heart and hooked her navel then gave a core quaking tug.

  Layla caved, letting them reel her in, and she soon spotted a break in the trees.

  Shafts of daylight climbed her legs as she entered a small clearing, thinking she must have the wrong place, because the only thing of note was a round boulder half buried in grassy earth.

  The invisible strings pulled harder, and she stumbled forward, scanning the area for proof of her parents’ resting place. She saw nothing, but felt everything. Every emotion possible twisted her insides, and unexplained tears blurred her vision.

  As she approached the boulder, the strings gave a hard yank, and she fell, extending her arms to catch herself. Her palms hit stone, and the cords snapped, but the emotions doubled.

  Blinking back moisture, she looked down, finding emerald green roses sprouting from the ground and climbing the boulder, which now bore her parents’ names – a golden epitaph etched in gray stone.

  Control slipped away, and Layla wrapped the rock in a desperate hug as a mournful wail burst free. At the mercy of grief and violently shaking, she couldn’t think or breathe. All she could do was feel, and s
he felt broken and lost.

  At one point, Morrigan and Daleen tried to console her, but to no avail. Their touch only made her cry harder and grip the memorial tighter. She wanted to sink into it. She wanted to find her parents’ souls and spend one real second in their arms. She wanted to see them so bad. She wanted them to see her.

  Her tears eventually ran dry, and her muscles grew sore and weak, quivering under the stress of dry sobs.

  She laboriously lifted her cheek from the stone then studied the gold branding.

  Forever In Our Hearts

  Rhosewen Keely Donnelly

  &

  Aedan Dagda Donnelly

  Perfect Daughter

  Perfect Son

  Perfect Love

  Layla ran achy fingers across the words several times. Then she looked to the emerald flowers. They’d been joined by sage green and golden peach roses, and after a moment of confusion, Layla realized they corresponded with her grandmothers’ eyes.

  She sank to the ground and picked an emerald bloom. Then she drowned her nose and lips in its soft petals.

  Daleen was right. Now that the breakdown was over, every second that ticked by eased Layla’s pain. She remained terribly upset she had to sit next to her parents’ grave instead of them, but the unbearable hurt was fading.

  She opened her eyes and straightened, laying her rose on the boulder. Then she rested her cheek to stone as she touched her parents’ names. “I love you both so much. Thank you for my life.”

  Gasps rang out behind her, and she jolted as she looked at her grandmothers, who were gawking at the ground. Layla looked down as well, and peace flooded her, stitching up a portion of her broken heart. The emerald green roses had multiplied, thickly carpeting the entire clearing.