"Your physical strength will be magnified, but only in certain areas," Elda continued quickly. "You won't be able to lift cars per se, but you will jump very high, swim faster and run faster. In some cases, witches have been known to exhibit superhuman strength, but it generally only occurs when you have an open connection with your element and your power is especially strong."
"I have jumped very high," Abby whispered, shocked by the realization. "In the woods, hiding from Vesta and Tane."
"I do not know Vesta and Tane, but I know of them. Vesta belongs to Tobias, he is her mentor."
"Are they like witches that have turned bad?" Abby asked, imagining the serpentine appearance of his face as he'd leered over her in the woods.
"No, they are not witches, but we will come to all of that later." Elda traced a slender finger along the edge of the leather book. "All witches have an astral body, a spirit body, which can move outside of the physical body."
The hair stood up on the back of Abby's neck.
"Like a dream?"
"Like a dream, but not a dream. I have heard new witches compare it to dreaming, but have you ever had such control in your dreams?"
Abby shook her head and imagined visiting the cave. The only thing that made it dream-like was how little it compared to her waking world.
"Power over the astral body is not the same for everyone. Some witches can use their astral body only to gather with other witches in the non-physical state. Others can move beyond this, traveling through other medians, such as their element. Spells are another universal power among witches and a very important one."
"Spells?" Abby asked. "Like turning someone into a toad?"
Elda laughed and looked at Abby like she was considering a small child. "No, no toads that I have heard of. The spells serve us as manipulators of the elements. They are our protection, our defense and one of the greatest faculties that we possess."
Abby could not help the whimsical fancies that popped into her thoughts: fairy godmothers, white bearded wizards, the wicked witch and her ruby slippers.
It was not easy to separate these fictional characters from the woman before her wearing a white beaded shawl and staring out from eyes as deep as the ocean.
"Don't force it, Abby. Understanding comes with time."
Abby hunched forward and clasped her hands on the table, lacing her fingers together and staring through them at the Book of Shadows. She was torn by a willingness to fall entirely into the new life offered her and a scared desperation to cling to old certainties.
"It has taken you years to learn the truths of your current life, and it will take years to learn those same truths about your new life."
"My new life." Abby tested the words in her mouth. They were slow and anticlimactic. Saying a thing did not make it real.
"For many of us, life changes drastically when the power surfaces. Our old lives, well, they fall away." She trailed off, and Abby wondered if she was searching back through her own transition from woman to witch. There is so much to learn, so many amazing discoveries that you will be privy to now. Our coven alone has existed since the fifteenth century and originated in Rome. Faustine descends from the original coven founders. Can you even imagine the history that he has seen?"
"Wait," Abby held up a finger, "does that mean that Faustine has lived since the fifteenth century?"
Elda cocked an eyebrow and smiled. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"
Before Abby could answer, Elda continued, "our coven is the Covenant of Ula. Ula means jewel of the sea. We have three Books of Shadows. We have Ula's, Voda's and Aepa's. Aepa was a Greek coven whose witches were comprised entirely of the air element. Helena, whom you met last night, spent many years at Aepa, and she brought a wealth of knowledge when she came to us here."
"There were some old newspaper clippings in the Astral Coven's Book of Shadows," Abby interjected. "They were about this woman, Aubrey Blake."
"Devin's great, great, great grandmother."
"You knew Devin?" Abby demanded.
"No, but when Sebastian told me about her, I contacted another coven and I learned of her bloodline."
"Since last night?" Abby could not hide the disbelief in her voice.
"I traveled within my astral body. You see, there is a place where witches meet. It is a cave hidden deep in the mountains. I put the word out that I was searching for history on the name Blake. Within a few hours, a witch arrived from Canada who had followed some of the bloodlines in the Astral Coven because she used to belong to it. When the coven broke apart, she took down the names in the Book of Shadows, but the book itself went with another witch. You see Devin's mother died during childbirth and she was adopted. The witch from Canada had been tracking the Blake bloodline, but had believed it died with Teresa, Devin's mother. The father did not want the child and paid the hospital to lie and claim that the baby had died as well. Thus Devin went to a new family, and no one in our world, so to speak, knew that she even existed."
"So this woman in Canada was tracking Devin's family since Aubrey."
"Yes, it is part of our duty to follow the bloodlines and assist developing witches; however, so many covens have disbanded that it has become problematic. Not every child of a witch becomes a witch. Sometimes it skips a generation, sometimes several. In Devin's case, it skipped three. But all of these names are kept within our Books of Shadows. That is only one of the reasons that they are so important to us. Each of us here at the Coven of Ula has a list of names that we follow through generations. When a new witch surfaces, we contact them and bring them into our coven or help them into another. But, as I said, several generations may pass without a witch born. Then there are witches who disregard their duties in following bloodlines. You see, Adora had the Astral Book of Shadows, but passed it to Claire, a new witch who died a short time later, which allowed the book and the names to end up in Sebastian's hands. Sebastian told me how Tobias insisted on retrieving the book, which means that when Tobias seduced Claire before killing her she told him about the book. If he had gotten it, many witches would have been in danger. It is all quite complex. Sadly, Devin is an example of how ineffective our system can be at times."
Abby imagined Devin, her fiery hair, the wild look in her eyes.
"Do you think that Devin knew she was a witch?" Abby asked.
Elda thought for a long time, her eyes roaming across the distant water. Over the mass of cherry blossoms, Abby could see the upper half of the castle straining towards the clear blue sky.
"I believe that Devin was just discovering that she was a witch. I think she was undergoing changes, and it was these changes that motivated her to seek her true parentage. I doubt that she fully understood at her death what she was." Elda looked sad at this.
"What about me?" Abby whispered, knowing how close her own fate had come to mirroring Devin's.
"I want to give you an answer," Elda said. "But I don't have one. We will trace your bloodline, but sometimes it is a difficult process. I happened to get very lucky with Devin. But, as I said, so many covens have broken apart over the years, and when that happens the Book of Shadows is passed and the witches responsible for each bloodline scatter. Some travel to new covens, others choose not to. Certain witches are responsible for following bloodlines, some of them die and others just disappear..."
"Where do they go?"
"Some choose to live the human way, as if they are not witches. It is rare, but is does happen. Others will simply disappear, hide in remote locations."
"When was the last time that a new witch was born from the names that you guys follow here?"
"Oliver," Elda answered happily. "He came to us fifteen years ago. His great grandfather had been a witch. Oliver was part of a bloodline that Helena was following from her former coven, the Coven of Aepa."
"So, if he came here fifteen years ago, that makes him how old?" To Abby, Oliver did not look much older than Sebastian or her.
Elda cocked her eyebrows and to
ok a moment. "Well, he started exhibiting powers when he was seventeen and he entered the coven at eighteen, so he is thirty-three."
Abby imagined Oliver, his firm, muscular shape, young laughing eyes.
"Physically we are different, Abby. Most witches retain a youthful appearance for quite a long time. Not only do we have differing physiology than normal people, we also have elixirs that work miracles, so to speak." Elda looked at the greenhouse as she said this.
Abby followed her gaze to a small white barked tree with funny cactus shaped leaves covered in little yellow spots.
"Do you mean like a fountain of youth?" Abby asked in wonderment.
"Not exactly a fountain of youth, although in regular society some of our potions are construed as such. You see, some of the potions that we create are designed for witches and others for regular humans. A witch who takes steps to stay younger should not do so out of vanity, but in order to be more beneficial to the world in general. Whether that is by fitting in more appropriately or simply by living longer."
"Living longer." Abby shuddered, imagining her old body wrinkled and sagging, but the years continuing to idle by.
"Not all witches live past the typical life expectancy for humans. It is a choice..." Elda trailed off and Abby suspected that information was being left out.
"Where are witches from?" Abby asked, wanting desperately to fill the many voids drifting through her thoughts.
"We have always been," Elda replied, her hands smoothing over the Book of Shadows. "There is no distinct creator or first witch that is recognized. Our very ancient ancestors were generally known as healers or sleuths. They understood, even then, what they were, but it was much harder to exist in secret. They often lived amongst the public, but then it became dangerous."
"Witch burnings?" Abby asked, imagining the photo of Aubrey Blake's fiery demise.
"Those were the least of our problems." Elda told her gravely. "The Vepars began to hunt us, they had discovered how our power could help them, and they would stop at nothing to attain it."
"Tell me about them. The Vepars, I mean."
Elda scrunched her forehead, tiny lines furrowing her brow. She looked tired.
"I will," she paused, "tell you some things, but this discussion is best saved for Dafne or Oliver. The Vepars are connected to a form of evil. Is it dark magic? Maybe. They have a link with demons or dark spirits. The act of becoming a Vepar is not completely clear, but there does appear to be lineage involved. Vepars descend from other Vepars. However, they are not born this way, but inducted into it. As non-Vepars or humans, they have little power over us. As Vepars, they are stronger, faster, and they can often smell witches. Their saliva contains a venom that is like a tranquilizer to a witch, and the potency varies across their people. They can damage humans."
"Damage how?" The excitement and astonishment had begun to fade. To learn of witches was one thing, but evil beings connected to demons?
"They are manipulative. By this I don't mean just charming, although many are that way as well; they can enter some people's brains, sort of confuse them and worse." Elda whispered this last part.
Abby recalled her experience with Detective Alva and the splitting headache that followed.
"Why didn't they just break down Sydney's door and kill me?" Abby asked, thinking aloud.
"Well, that is one of our advantages. Vepars must perform the ritual sacrifice to absorb our blood as power." Elda looked sourly across the lagoon. "They must use very specific tools to enchant the ritual and open the darkness in them to the light in us. It is an intricate process and one that you already have far too much experience with. Suffice to say that they cannot murder us easily if they want to gain anything from the death."
Once more Abby began to feel overwhelmed by the overload of information – the covens, the powers, Vepars, she felt weary as if from a long walk.
"You are getting tired," Elda told her gently. "And hungry, I'm sure. Let us return to the castle to rejuvenate ourselves."
Elda stood, her fingers lingering on the Book of Shadows a moment longer, before she pulled it to her breast and swept back into the greenhouse. When she returned, she beckoned for Abby to follow, and they began their journey back to the castle. The sun's intense rays made Abby's eyes ache, and she shielded them as she walked.
"Is Dafne unhappy that we've come here?"
Elda took her time answering. The shells crunched beneath their feet and Abby thought of bones.
"Dafne is very protective of our coven and she has experienced things that have frightened her so greatly that every thought is tainted by those memories. You see, Abby, some people are the history that haunts them, and Dafne has some especially difficult ghosts to rid herself of. She welcomes you, I am sure; it is your Sebastian that she fears."
"But why should she fear Sebastian?" Abby asked angrily. "He's wonderful, he led me here." She had no intention of giving up her only friend and link to the other world, the one that still made sense.
"Well, that is part of her fear, Abby. He is a basic man and he led you here. His sister gave him very critical information about us, what we are, where we live. Dafne fears who he could lead here and how easily he could be manipulated by the other side." Elda had slowed as she spoke and Abby slowed as well.
"You mean Tobias?" Abby was incredulous. "Sebastian would never help Tobias."
"No, I agree with you, Abby, but, as I said before, Tobias and the other Vepars have powers said to seduce any regular man or woman, such that natural people do not stand a chance."
"How is that possible?" Abby asked, wanting to believe that Sebastian could somehow deflect these powers, but remembering all too well Danny Kent, Devin's brother, who supposedly confessed to her murder.
"Abby, Vepars are like demons. Forget what you know about villains because you must always believe that you are underestimating them. Never think that you know their intentions or their abilities."
"Demons," she puffed the name out in fear. Tobias had looked like a demon in the end; he had looked as if he might drag her into hell. She shivered violently. "Sebastian knew what he was."
"Oh, yes, Sebastian knows more than most other commoners that I have met. I apologize, I know that the word commoner is not pleasant, but I use it simply to distinguish between witches and non-witches."
Abby did not like the sound of that. Could Sebastian be ripped away from her because he was a commoner?
"What other kinds of things can the Vepars do?" She had a few ideas, but had not exactly been lucid during much of her encounter with them.
"That is Dafne and Oliver's area of expertise. They are much more capable of properly explaining Tobias and the others."
They departed from the blossoms back onto the cobblestone pathway. The young girl, Lydie, was circling the lagoon in a rowboat. She didn't touch the oars, but it continued to move gracefully through the shimmering water. Her curls blew in the wind, a crown of spirals billowing around her head. Abby wondered if she was lonely, she looked so young, so fragile.
Chapter 20
Nearly everyone that Abby had met the night before was seated at a long dining table that stretched down the center of a vast dining hall. Two glorious chandeliers, covered in hundreds of lit candles, flickered above the diners. Thick, embroidered, chocolate drapes blocked the early evening sun, and Abby noticed that only Oliver was absent.
Sebastian gave a small wave, and she hurried across the plum carpeting, her feet sinking in. She sat beside him and he squeezed her hand, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.
"You look great. Everything go okay?" His blue eyes glittered and she felt caught up in his excitement. He'd even donned a navy blue and white striped button down in lieu of the usual t-shirt. Abby was happy to see that he and Oliver had not killed each other.
A short, plump woman with frizzy red hair and glossy pink lips entered the room carrying a silver tray almost longer than her arms could stretch. Her long, knit sleeves nearly covered her ha
nds and she shimmied, attempting to slip them further up her forearms. Her cow neck sweater dipped, revealing sparkly, bronzed cleavage, and a small turquoise stone dangled between her hefty bosoms. The tray was piled with food, and the aroma silenced the conversation.
"Sebastian, Abby, this is Bridget," Elda told them, standing at the head of the long table and gesturing to the wide, smiling lady.
"Hi y'all," Bridget chirped, somehow curtsying behind the massive tray. She slid the tray onto the table, pushing each platter down with the ease of a body builder. Abby realized that this miniature woman, with her southern drawl, was a witch.
Large, gleaming platters were passed down the table, Abby's wide eyes taking in a feast that appeared far too enormous for the nine stomachs awaiting it.
"Want me to do this?" Sebastian asked her as he tonged hunks of gravy-covered turkey onto his plate. Apparently he'd noticed her glazed expression and didn't trust her with large serving utensils.
"Yes, please." She slid her plate down.
Sebastian sat to her right, and to her left was Helena, who talked animatedly with Abby between spoonfuls of mashed sweet potatoes and grilled asparagus. It seemed to be Helena's personal goal to ensure that Abby and Sebastian felt welcome in the castle. When Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck absently, Helena leaned over and told them about a whole drawer full of tinctures that Bridget placed in every room for all kinds of ailments.
"From back pain to chicken pox," Helena laughed conspiratorially. "I once took one labeled sweet dreams and spent the best six hours of my life riding flying ponies over a giant sea of Jell-O. Imagine that, Jell-O!"
Sebastian guffawed and winked at Abby.
The room, which should have been drafty, was strangely warm and snug. Abby ate slowly, savoring every bite and listening to Helena who spoke incessantly about food. She listed her favorite appetizers, entrees and finally desserts and then coaxed Abby and Sebastian to do the same.
Everyone else carried on separate conversations. They sounded curiously uninvolved, as if afraid to embark on their so-called normal topics in front of the strangers. Only Dafne remained silent, staring at her food, but barely touching it, her dark eyes occasionally shooting towards Sebastian and Abby. No one else appeared to notice, least of all Sebastian, who ate like a cat at a tuna buffet and somehow still managed to carry on with Helena as if they were old chums.
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