Born of Shadows- Complete Series

by J. R. Erickson

  "You have no idea what you're talking about."

  Elda stood, interrupting. "We are not enemies here. We are friends. Sebastian, please, take a seat."

  He fell back into his chair, but scowled at Dafne. Oliver looked amused, and Abby saw him gently kick Lydie's chair; she smiled in return.

  "I believe that we are better served by privacy now," Elda continued, addressing the group, and Abby wasn't sure if she meant her and Sebastian or the others.

  Max stood and coaxed everyone from their chairs, carefully avoiding eye contact with Sebastian, who was clearly miserable. Abby started to stand, and Max gestured her back down with a wave of his hand. Dafne looked mutinous and stalled, smoothing her bony hands along her heather gray slacks. Faustine sought her eyes and nodded toward the door, a silent demand.

  The young one, Lydie, walked to where Abby stood and stopped before her.

  "You can't learn to swim without getting in the water." She spoke very matter-of-factly and then strode to the door, her short curls bouncing and her pale, pink pedal pushers making her appear even younger from the back. She shot a final, knowing, stare back at Abby's puzzled face and skipped from the room.

  "She speaks almost entirely in clichés," Oliver told her, smiling at her confused expression. "It's endearing about two percent of the time."

  Sebastian stared after him as he walked from the room, following behind Dafne, Helena close at his heels.

  When everyone was gone, Elda returned. She stopped at a shelf of books and pressed a small iron eagle bookend. The books disappeared on a rotating counter, and a small platter with several ceramic pots and black mugs swung into the room.

  Abby and Sebastian stared, surprised by the secret compartment.

  "Yes, our library comes fully equipped," Elda laughed. "Though, still, I am not sure why we have to hide the tea."

  Sebastian smiled, and Abby sank back into her chair, relieved to see his sense of humor returning.

  "Tea? Or coffee, perhaps?" Elda placed two mugs on a silver tray.

  "Tea, please," Abby told her, the first twinges of sleepiness stirring in her mind. Sebastian asked for coffee, and Elda busied herself preparing, not only drinks, but also small sandwiches and cookies.

  Abby sipped her tea. The scalding fluid added to the heat of the room and she blinked away the sleepiness creeping in. She should have gone with coffee. The tea, some mix of chamomile and other herbs, added to her tiredness. She nibbled a molasses cookie and sat up straight, watching as Elda pulled a chair closer to the fireplace.

  "Are you warm enough?" the older woman asked them, settling into her chair.

  "Mmm, yes, fine," Abby murmured.

  "More than enough," Sebastian nodded. He scooted his chair away from the fire and sat munching a sandwich hungrily. "I am starving."

  "Well, eat up, those things appear around here like magic." She winked at Sebastian as he grabbed another sandwich and several cookies from the tray.

  Abby stared at the room lazily, taking in the soft, luxurious décor. Thick velvet drapes shielded the windows and fell onto tasseled oriental rugs. Thousands of books lined the shelves, many with broad leather bindings, their titles engraved and glinting in the firelight. Dozens of chairs, each one different, were scattered in a loose semi-circle facing the enormous stone fireplace.

  "Where shall we begin?" Elda asked gently, moving her chair so that she faced Sebastian and Abby directly. "With you, Sebastian? I think you may be able to shed light for both Abby and myself."

  He nodded, looking more alert as the coffee set in. He opened his backpack and pulled Claire's journal out, laying it on his lap.

  "This belonged to my sister, Claire. She started writing in it when she was seventeen, at the beginning of the change. She'd never been a diary keeper, and I remember thinking it strange, but..."

  He traced his fingers along the worn pages and smiled, remembering.

  Abby sat up taller in her chair, listening.

  "Something happened to your parents?" Elda asked knowingly.

  He nodded, staring at the fire.

  "They were killed in a car accident when I was eighteen and Claire was fourteen. I became her legal guardian." Sebastian's voice thickened. "We received an inheritance, a pretty large one, and after I graduated from high school, we sold the house and moved into an apartment and things were good. We were happy. Claire gave me a purpose and I never resented that. During her junior year in high school, just after her seventeenth birthday, I saw the journal for the first time. She acted very weird about it, protective. I thought maybe she was dealing with it finally, ya know, our parents' deaths."

  Abby tried to pay attention but she had begun to feel strange, sort of dizzy and euphoric, as if she'd had too much to drink.

  "Then I noticed this peculiar woman who showed up in the most random places," he continued. "At the grocery store or when I'd pick up Claire at school. She was... I don't know, astonishing, I guess. She had long black hair down past her butt and bright green eyes like cats' eyes. And, then, one day I came home from work and she was at our apartment, just sitting in the living room with Claire, talking crazily like they were old friends."

  "Adora," Elda whispered.

  "Yes, yes, Adora. You know her?"

  "I do, and I will tell you about her later. Right now, I want to hear about you."

  Sebastian nodded and continued, taking another sip from his coffee. The cup clattered as he returned it to the saucer.

  "They began spending so much time together that it sort of bothered me. I was jealous, maybe, it had been just Claire and I for years. Anyway, we fought about it and she completely broke down. She told me everything." He trailed off, his eyes wandering towards Abby and then the floor.

  She fought to pay attention, but her brain felt like a sticky puddle in the basement of her skull. Were they talking about her? No, Claire, they were talking about Claire. She looked at the half filled cup of tea, horror struck, as the room began to swim around her. Had this woman poisoned her? She looked at Elda, whose gracious face regarded her with concern.

  "Abby, are you okay?" Elda asked, her brow furrowed.

  Sebastian stood abruptly, kneeling in front of her.

  "Abby?" Worry paled his face.

  "I'm just so tired," she whispered, as the heat of the fire slowly traveled up her legs and into her back. "Did you poison me?" she croaked, looking at Elda.

  "Oh, dear, no," Elda laughed, looking embarrassed. She rose from her chair and moved toward Abby. "No, no, it's just chamomile and Valerian root and some other herbs. It was meant to calm you, not put you to bed, honey. It's our home, I would imagine." Elda waved her slender fingers at the room. "It affects ... some people, differently."

  "Not to mention the night we had," Sebastian added, rubbing a hand on his swollen wrists where the ropes had cut in.

  "I'll get something for that," Elda told him.

  She held her hands out to Abby, who stood shakily, leaning on Sebastian for support.

  "I will call Oliver to show her to her room. It's the energy here, for new witches..." Elda trailed off and moved across the room, pressing a button near the doorway.

  Abby stared at her, tempted to ask what exactly she meant by 'new witches,' but too exhausted to go there.

  "She's right, Abby, I think it's just shock and exhaustion." He looked tired as well, but she knew that he wanted to continue his conversation with Elda.

  Abby trusted that he was right, and, strangely enough, she trusted Elda. She needed to rest, to allow the demons of the day to leave, at least for a bit. She would welcome sleep.

  Oliver entered the room, and Sebastian bristled.

  "I can take her," Sebastian said quickly to Elda. "Just tell me where."

  "Whoa, there, friend," Oliver chimed, raising a hand to calm Sebastian. "It's a short walk and I already know the way."

  Oliver took Abby's hand in his own and began to lead her from the room. She cast a fleeting smile at Sebastian, who looked agi
tated, but Elda was already appeasing him with more coffee and cookies.

  "I think bed sounds about right," Oliver said happily, closing the door behind him. "You have had one very long night."

  Abby nodded and murmured, "Yes," trying not to trip over her sluggish feet.

  "I can carry you, if you'd like," Oliver told her, squeezing her hand.

  "Oh, no," she said, though it sounded easier than carrying herself.

  He talked amicably as they traipsed down a long hallway lit with golden candelabras. A thick gold rug lay before them; something like the lavish red carpets she'd seen on Hollywood awards shows. His golden hair sparkled in the flickering light, and he smelled sweet like cinnamon. If exhaustion had not been robbing her of logic, she might have questioned the enchanted atmosphere, but instead she struggled simply to stay upright as he led her up a tight spiral staircase. He pushed through a massive honey colored door into a room dimly lit with candles. She stumbled blindly to the bed and collapsed onto it, remotely aware that he'd pulled a heavy comforter up to her neck and made a hasty exit.

  * * * *

  Sebastian chewed another cookie grumpily and forced himself not to act like a jerk in front of Elda. He should have been happy that Oliver saved them and happier still that he was part of the coven, but he wasn't. For one thing, he didn't like the way Oliver looked at Abby, like she was available. He also found him arrogant and too attractive. Why should he be so attractive?

  "Don't worry, Sebastian. Oliver is a wonderful witch. He wishes you no harm," Elda said, shifting her eyes to his.

  Her voice was very soothing, and he tried to relax into the sound. He was tempted to question her about Oliver and the coven. He wanted to hear that Oliver was a new witch and not a very powerful one. He wanted to glean some tidbit of flaw that would make their rescuer slightly less heroic. He took another drink of coffee and returned to their conversation.

  "Anyway," he started, forgetting about Oliver momentarily. "Claire told me that she was a witch and that Adora was her witch guide or something like that."

  "Yes, Adora is a keeper of a Book of Shadows and thus a guide or helper for new witches."

  "Adora started to teach her to use her power. She was an air element."

  "I'm not surprised," Elda said. "I sense air in you."

  He paused. "Does that mean that I have powers as well?"

  Elda shook her head sadly.

  "I wish that I could give you such news, Sebastian, but no, you are not a witch. Although you are a very powerful man."

  "Can I become more powerful?" he asked urgently.

  "Yes, anyone can if they desire it and make it their intention, but vengeance is not a safe place to draw that power out of."

  Sebastian did not speak, considering her words. Vengeance had driven him for so long. What else did he have?

  "You have Abby, Sebastian."

  Sebastian stared at her. Had she read his mind or just guessed his thoughts? He liked Elda. She reminded him of Claire, so kind and gentle, but strong too. He felt safe in the castle, not only safe from the Vepars, but safe from himself, from the murderous desire that had been in him lately. Perhaps at the coven he could rest, find himself again. Maybe he could discover another path.

  Chapter 18

  Morning arrived well after noon for Abby. Even as she opened her eyes, a flight of longing for her dreamless sleep beckoned her back beneath the covers. She stared at the vaulted ceiling, crisscrossed with enormous wood beams, and thought of the previous night. It was blurry and unreal, but her place in the elaborate bedroom rendered it concrete. Like so many things of late, this, too, was not a dream.

  She pushed back the dense, silvery-pink comforter, allowing it to heap at the foot of the bed, and slid off the edge. The room was shaped like a hexagon. A floor to ceiling window stretched along a single wall facing the choppy waves of the lake. Straight down from the window, she could see a small ridge of sandstone cliff that plummeted into the water.

  Dazzling sunlight poured over the shining blond wood floors, basking everything in a warm, summer glow. She traveled the room slowly and brushed her fingers along the velvet drapes. Intricate woodwork accentuated each piece of furniture, and she wondered how long it took to carve the tiny spirals and knobs. It all looked alarmingly antique and yet in impeccable shape, not a single scratch anywhere. A salmon colored chaise stretched beneath the window, several sets of clothes draped over it.

  Abby picked up a silk blouse, eying it warily. They were beautiful and expensive, but definitely not her own. Dafne's, she thought, who was around her same size, but slightly taller. Probably not an easy feat - soliciting Dafne's clothes. She chose a pair of cream silk pants and a beige tank top. A pair of brown flat-heel Mary Janes sat on the floor with a note tucked into one of the soles.

  "Hope everything fits - Helena."

  She put them on and cast a final glance around the room before leaving. The spiral staircase led her back to the vaguely familiar hallway, but she was clueless as to where to go from there. She looked stupidly at the blank doorways, curious because the castle held a million intrigues, but also dazed. She understood that another world existed outside of her own and that she was a part of it, but she still did not understand her role, which frightened her. After passing several doors and getting no closer to finding Sebastian or Elda, she started leaning her head against the heavy frames. Three doors and silence, then she heard voices, hushed.

  She recognized Dafne's shrill tone followed by Helena, trying to calm her.

  "Dafne, you have no authority to cast them out. They have every right to be here," Helena stated in a loud whisper.

  "She might, but he doesn't. Not only does he not deserve to be here, but he's a danger to all of us," Dafne declared, sounding alarmingly close to the door.

  Abby backed up, afraid that it may burst open and ran into Faustine, who huffed loudly, but put his hands out to prevent further damage.

  "I see you've risen," he told her shortly, turning on his heel. "Come with me."

  Jogging to keep up with him, she tried to gather her bearings, watching the hall carefully, but not getting much detail. Every door looked the same, and though they passed a few that were open, Faustine walked so quickly that she couldn't see what lay inside them.

  He turned left and opened a doorway into a long, rectangular room. Several buffet tables stood in the center, each heaped with trays of food. Small, round café-style tables scattered the wall's edge, their white linen tablecloths brushing the peach carpeting. It looked like a hotel dining room, except for the thick, stone castle walls. Abby expected to see little waiters in tuxedos bustling about.

  Sebastian and Elda sat at a small table butted against a movie screen sized window. They both stood when Faustine and Abby walked in.

  "She wakes," Sebastian said, sounding relieved.

  She gave him a quick, one-armed hug, briefly flashing on their kiss from the previous night, and tried to hide her blush as she sat down next to him.

  "Lunch, my dear," Elda told her, steering her towards one of the food-stacked tables.

  Abby's stomach moaned with longing as she surveyed the options. Pastries were piled next to a long tray of heavily stacked sandwiches and goblets of juice, lemonade and tea. At the end of the table sat two silver trays heaped with sliced fruit and vegetables. She filled a plate, any attempt at modesty buried beneath her hunger, and returned to the table between Sebastian and Elda.

  She watched an enormous, charcoal gray cat jump from one of the tables and pad into a bar of sunlight, slumping onto the ground lazily. The cat spun in an alligator death roll, purring like a tractor. She thought of her own kitty, Baboon, abandoned in Lansing with Nick.

  "How did you sleep?" Sebastian asked, mopping the crumbs from his plate.

  "Good, really," she reassured him between bites. "I feel like I've been put up in the penthouse suite."

  "So, you liked your room, then?" Elda asked happily, sipping a glass of tea.

 
"Yeah, liked may be a bit of an understatement," she nodded with the pleasant memory of her view.

  "Well, we have had quite a long talk, Sebastian and I, oh, and Kissy over there on the floor," Elda told her, smiling as Abby stuffed a chocolate croissant into her mouth.

  "But now, Abby, it's time for you and I to talk, alone."

  Abby stopped, mid-chew, and looked from Elda to Sebastian.

  "You see," Elda continued. "Discussion is not our only task at hand. We are going to isolate your element of power today."

  "My element of power?"

  "Yes," Elda said and Sebastian nodded.

  "It's really amazing," he said.

  "You've already done it?" Abby asked, turning toward Sebastian with newfound interest.

  "Oh no," Elda interrupted quickly. "Sebastian is not a witch, only you are."

  "Wait," Abby held up a hand. "What does that mean, I'm a witch? Everyone keeps talking about witches, and, frankly, I'm not prone to complete flights of fancy. I'll admit some crazy things have happened and I don't quite have a grasp on it all yet, but are we talking literal here or is witch like a metaphor for..."

  "For what?" Elda asked.

  "Literal," Sebastian added. "But believe me, I know where you're at. I've been there."

  "I'm trying not to feel freaked out right now, but this seems insane."

  "And that is precisely our goal of the day, understanding."

  The door rolled open and Oliver walked in, looking freshly rumpled, his blond hair swept back from his forehead.

  "Food," he grinned, stretching his arms overhead and yawning. He filled a plate and took an empty seat next to Elda. "I slept like the dead last night."

  Sebastian, Abby noticed, was pretending to ignore Oliver by stirring copious amounts of sugar and cream into his coffee.

  "Morning," she said shyly.

  "Perfect timing, Oliver. Abby and I were just going to take a walk to the lagoon, and I thought that you might entertain Sebastian for a little while."

  Sebastian prickled at this suggestion, scowling into his mug and stirring it furiously.