Born of Shadows- Complete Series

by J. R. Erickson

  "What is it?" Oliver asked, admiring her skill.

  "The Mother Tree. I'm making it for Matilda. She has a birthday in two weeks."

  "It's beautiful."

  "Thanks. Do you want to tell me about her, Oliver? I get the feeling, you're itchin to talk."

  He laughed and put his face in his hands.

  "Is it strange for me to talk about her?"

  "Of course not." Kit looked at him sideways. "I don't mince words, Oliver. When I say I'm happy for you, I mean it. There's no secret emotion I'm not sharing. I consider you a friend. The physical stuff was just bodies meeting their needs. Don't let it mess with your head."

  He laughed.

  "I'm usually the one that feels that way. It's been a long time since I had a relationship that complicated that aspect of my life. Her name is Ezra."

  "And Ezra didn't join you on this adventure into the outback?"

  "No. To be honest, I didn't ask her."

  "I hope not because of me," Kit said.

  "No, well not really. You crossed my mind, but she's rebuilding her coven."

  "It was destroyed?"

  Oliver sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He'd filled Kit in on the basics of the curse during his last visit. Over the next half hour, he brought her up to date on all that had transpired since their getting abducted at Abby's wedding and ending with Vidya's birth.

  "Blimey," Kit mumbled. "And I thought we were in a shit storm with Binda. You've been living in a nightmare."

  "It hasn't been a picnic, that's for sure. But that's why I didn't bring her. She's trying to get her head around Victor's betrayal. She's also busy twenty-four-seven. She's like you in that way. Always movin and shakin."

  Kit smiled as she whittled her tree.

  "Idle hands and all that," she told him with a wink. "And now you're hoping to get Meghan to reveal some bit of goods on this Clyde character? So that you can get rid of him?"

  "Yes, unfortunately he has Victor now, which means he's been restored to power. When I first heard about this curse business, I figured it was Dafne's paranoia. Now it's become this huge beast that's infiltrated all our lives. I want normal again, but so much has changed, I'm not sure that even a curse-free future will feel normal."

  "Normal is hardly an appropriate word for your life anyway," Kit told him. "But there's nothing wrong with wanting to feel safe, peaceful. I did a bit of sleuthing after you guys left and uncovered a few old journals that Binda kept. After she'd visit Meghan at the pond, she'd jot down notes, no doubt thinking she'd reveal how to get into the dream wood."

  "Did she?"

  "No. But she did mention a pocket watch that belonged to her son, Eugene. Apparently, Clyde coveted this watch, but when he killed Eugene, Megan had it. Eugene had given it to her to clean just the day before his death. After he was murdered, Clyde badgered Meghan about the pocket watch. He wanted it badly, but Meghan told him she had no idea what happened to it. She said the murderer must have stolen it, which of course didn't satisfy Clyde because he was the murderer and knew it was not in Eugene's possession when he killed him."

  "Okay, go on," Oliver encouraged, not really sure why the watch mattered.

  "The pocket watch is here. I found it. Meghan revealed its hiding place to Binda. When Meghan and Clyde came to Australia, Meghan tucked it inside a conch shell and enchanted it. The shell was built into the fireplace of that old cottage out in the woods. The one where Binda took Sebastian. After I read Binda's notes, I assumed she would have taken it, but she never did. I found the shell, chiseled it out, and voila: Eugene's pocket watch."

  "I guess I'm still not following."

  "It's a bargaining tool, it's bait, Oliver."

  "Wow, I'm dense," he chuckled. "That's amazing, Kit. And exactly what we need, a way to draw him out. Something that he wants so badly, he's willing to put himself at risk to get it."

  "I'll grab it for you tomorrow. It's in my room."

  "Does Binda know you have it?"

  Kit shook her head.

  "I'm not sure if she even remembers Meghan telling her about it. The journal entry was more than a decade ago. I think Binda was so consumed by love and grief during those talks with Meghan that she ignored a lot of the details. Fortunately, for us, she wrote them down."

  Oliver squeezed Kit's knee.

  "You're a lifesaver, Kit. I can't thank you enough."

  She smiled and inclined her head.

  "My pleasure."

  They both paused as they heard someone moving up the trail from the Sky Mothers' compound toward the yurts. Matilda appeared at the cliff edge. When she spotted them, she hurried over, her face ashen.

  "What is it?" Kit jumped up.

  "It's for you, Oliver. A call from home." She held out a cell phone.

  "I didn't even know you had service out here," he said, taking the phone.

  "Only on this line," Matilda explained. "I'm sorry," she added.

  Oliver frowned at the phone almost afraid to put it to his ear. Who would be contacting him in Australia? Why hadn't they tried for Julian instead?

  "Oliver." He heard Abby's voice loud and clear. He had expected her to sound far away, half a world away in fact, but she could have been standing in front of him.

  "What is it, Abby? Are you okay?"

  "Oliver, it's Ezra."

  "What? Tell me!"

  "She's dead, Oliver."

  Chapter 12

  Oliver stood with the phone held to his ear and tried to let the words sink in. Ezra was dead. That's what she had said. For an instant, he expected to jolt awake. He would be flooded with the relief that comes after a nightmare. He'd sit up in his bed at Ula and realize he'd never gone to Australia, Ezra was fine, and in a few hours he'd wake to Bridget's pancakes and welcome a new day. Instead, seconds ticked by. Matilda hurried off to Julian's yurt. Kit watched him with wide, concerned eyes. He wanted to hand her the phone and just walk away, distancing himself from Abby's words and the news they carried.

  "I'm so sorry, Oliver," Abby told him. "She met with Victor, and he took her. He killed her." In the background, Oliver heard a baby cry - Vidya. Sebastian came on the line.

  "Oliver? Oh God, man, I don't even know what to say. Abby tried to save her. She ran to the place Victor took her, but didn't find them. We searched for her..." but Sebastian trailed off as if he couldn't stand to share anymore.

  And then Julian was there, pulling the phone from Oliver. Matilda took Oliver's elbow and Kit held his hand. They guided him back toward the Sky Mothers. Lydie appeared from the forest, disheveled, woken no doubt by Julian.

  "Oliver?" she asked and her voice was small and scared.

  He dropped to his knees, and she ran into his arms. They hugged. Oliver smelled mint and eucalyptus in her hair. Lydie said nothing, but holding her made the moment a little more real.

  "It's okay, Lydie," he whispered. "It's okay to cry."

  Her tears rushed hot onto his shoulder, soaking his t-shirt. After a while, he stood, holding Lydie's hand tight in his own, thinking if he didn't let go, he could hold it all in a little longer.

  Matilda and Kit settled them in the breezy hallway. They brought tea and cookies. Oliver shoved three of the cookies in his mouth, struggling to chew. His tongue was sandpaper dry. He forced them down and then drank tea. He still hadn't spoken, not a single word.

  Ezra was dead. That's what Abby said. That's what the faces of everyone around him said.

  Kit settled next to him.

  "Here," she said, handing him a large hunk of obsidian. He needed the earth in that moment, a powerful mineral mined from his element. He took the rock and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. A tiny stream of reality flowed into him as he connected to his element. Ezra was dead. Victor murdered Ezra.

  Julian walked in, handing the phone to Matilda.

  "Tell me," Oliver said, looking him in the eyes.

  Julian sighed and shook his head. He looked sad, angry, and defeated.

 
"Ezra sought Victor out. She asked him to meet her in Trager."

  "Damn it," Oliver bellowed slamming his fist onto the glass table. It exploded and shards of glass flew into the room, but Julian stopped them with a flick of his wrist. The cookies and tea smashed on the floor, but he swept those into a pile that Matilda motioned out of the room.

  "Maybe you need more time," Julian started.

  "No, now. I need to know right now," Oliver snapped.

  Lydie snaked her hand into Oliver's and squeezed.

  "Ezea wore a camera. It was streaming in their apartment when Kendra returned home. Kendra called Abby."

  "She videotaped it?" Oliver asked, horrified.

  "Not her death," Julian corrected. "But their conversation. Kendra called Abby and described the location and Abby recognized it. When she arrived, they were already gone. The video disconnected after Victor took her."

  "Did they find her? How do they know she's dead?" Oliver asked, hopeful.

  "Sebastian found her in the Ebony Woods this morning."

  Oliver closed his eyes. Rage blotted out his grief and threatened to erupt.

  "I have to take a walk," he said, standing and striding from the compound. He ran into the forest, hard and fast, knowing he couldn't outrun the pain, but he could try.

  ****

  "Sshhh..." Abby rocked from side to side, holding Vidya tight against her. Sad and exhausted, she pressed her lips against Vidya's forehead.

  Sebastian had hung up the phone and returned to the living room where Faustine and Helena stood talking.

  "Kendra, Dante and Marcus should be here anytime," he said.

  Abby walked to the window and watched the waves rolling in from the turbulent lake. The day had been windy and rainy and a match for Sebastian's discovery that morning. Abby had told him to wait for Faustine before checking the Ebony Woods, but he insisted that he'd be careful and doubted he'd find anything. Two hours later he returned, soaked, muddy and streaked with dark brown stains that Abby knew were blood. He'd carried Ezra's body from the woods and laid her in the back of his car. Now her body lay in the shed outside, wrapped in a sheet. As Abby watched rain pelt the roof, her stomach rolled.

  Twenty-four hours earlier, Ezra had been alive. Why hadn't she told anyone of her plans to meet Victor? Abby was shopping only blocks away when the meeting started, but it hadn't mattered. Now she was dead.

  Vidya snored against her and Abby laid her in the little bassinet they kept in the kitchen. She pulled out a kitchen chair and sat. She thought of the silence after telling Oliver the news. Though he'd said nothing, she'd felt his emotion as if he were in the room. A wall of disbelief and denial had slammed in front of him. With a single phone call, she shattered the joy only just beginning to make its way into his life.

  She listened to Sebastian, Faustine and Helena. They felt that Victor or Clyde, whoever he was at this point, was raising the stakes. But was it true? Hadn't he already tried to kill them all once? Abby touched the spot on her throat, no longer tender, where the ski rope had grown taught. Her hands shook as she pulled them away. In the days after Victor had tried to perform his ritual, Abby had often shaken uncontrollably. When she thought of that night, her knees felt weak. Now, with the arrival of her precious child, she could hardly stand to give the thought of death a space in her mind. If she lost her daughter, she'd go insane. She might live another hundred years, two hundred years inside a grief she didn't even know existed. She still didn't know, not truly. But she also hadn't been prepared for the enormous, unfathomable love she felt for her child. It was unlike anything that had ever existed in her life and it terrified her. The vulnerability of that love made her want to pack Vidya and Sebastian in their car and drive to the other side of the world.

  Or something much darker. If she didn't run away then she had to eliminate the threat. She couldn't live in fear of Victor. She would not allow him to grow strong and create an army of Vepars to stalk her and her family for the rest of her life. A part of her wanted to race out the door and into the night. She could find him. If she opened herself enough, he would find her. But she had to be smarter this time. She'd made impulsive mistakes before and put herself and others in danger. It was time now to be strategic.

  ****

  "I'm so sorry, Oliver." Kit spoke from behind him the following morning.

  He hadn't returned to the Sky Mothers the previous night. He ran for hours, climbed trees and jumped from cliffs into the dark ocean. When he'd grown exhausted enough to sleep, he lay on the beach and prayed he wouldn't dream. He had walked back down the beach that morning and busied himself in the kitchen outside the yurts making coffee and scrambling eggs.

  He turned and offered a smile.

  "Thanks Kit. Sorry I went MIA last night. I'm not one to sit around when grief strikes. I have to get it out."

  "No need to explain," she offered. "And I brought a bottle of Kahlua to spike your coffee if you want to take the edge of."

  "Yeah, top me off." He held out his coffee, and she poured in a hefty portion.

  Kit made her own coffee and took a seat on a bench. The silence stretched out and Oliver appreciated that she didn't expect him to talk. Although part of him wanted to.

  "Oh good, you're back," Julian announced, walking into the kitchen and giving Oliver's shoulder a squeeze. "I think Lydie feared you ran into the Outback never to be seen again."

  Oliver sighed.

  "I should have stayed to talk with her."

  Julian waved a dismissive hand.

  "Lydie's a big girl. It's best you follow what's calling out to you in those moments. That kind of news has a process that's different for everyone. Lydie went back to her yurt and drew by candlelight. I had a nice long meditation. Everyone did what they needed to do. This morning, I'll get our plane tickets changed. I plan to talk with Binda in two hours and we'll be on a plane back to Michigan tomorrow."

  They had intended to stay for five days, but under the circumstances, Oliver too wanted to return. Although the thought of stepping foot on Michigan soil knowing Ezra was no longer in the world made him feel like flinging his pan of eggs off the cliff.

  "Lydie's still sleeping?" he asked, trying to shift his mind away from the anger threatening to overwhelm him.

  "Yep, late night for her."

  ****

  Victor stood on the upstairs balcony of the old house. It had once belonged to the coven known as the Serpent House and though there was evidence of them everywhere, it held a residue of filth. Something darker, danker permeated the walls, the floorboards and even the furniture, which had largely gone to rot.

  Of the Vepars, only Alva and Tobias had been allowed in the house and now Victor, the third to ascend, or was it descend? He didn't quite know. A strange thing had happened the night he burned the L'Obscurite. As their bodies crumpled and writhed, their hair in flames, their skin melting like candle wax, their pain coursed through Victor. He felt - not only - the burning of their flesh - excruciating - but whole lifetimes of pain, trauma, rejection. Ethel's years of abuse at the hands of her poverty stricken, drunk mother. He experienced a brutal whipping with a hot leather belt that Sabre was dealt at only three years old by his stepfather. As the burning went on and their power surged through him, so too did their anguish, their sorrow, their purity. He had fallen to his knees and wept. He had ripped at his own face and neck and still bore the scars where his fingernails tore away flesh. Somewhere in the night, he thought he had heard the other Vepars mocking him, laughing at him. He had lost consciousness, and did not awake in the singed Ebony Woods, but on a mildewed mattress at Snake Island.

  The amulet had pulsed against his chest and the dagger was clutched in his hand. He lay in a dirt room beneath the house, hearing it groan in the whistling lake winds. Next to him, the emaciated body of Clyde breathed slow and deep. Tubes ran between them and Victor understood that he was merely a source of power for Clyde.

  He stared at the beach, focusing on a particular rock. Honi
ng his energy on that single stone, he brought his hands toward the sky. The rock did not move. It lay still and heavy growing smooth in the surf. His earth element had abandoned him. He was no longer a witch.

  "Then what am I?" he asked. No one answered, nothing answered. The collective consciousness of a million witches who had traveled the earth had grown silent. He no longer had access to their memories, their thoughts, their wisdom.

  The only peace he found was in the body of the skin-walker. In that dark, primal space, he left behind the remembered pain of the L'Obscurite and perhaps worst of all, the pain of Ezra as she passed from the land of living into that of the dead. Her prone body, lifeless on the forest floor, haunted his thoughts. When he first saw her in the warehouse he experienced a moment of such profound regret that he slipped away and allowed Clyde to consume him. Now she was gone.

  A strange pressure inside his head signaled that Clyde had come to possess him. Victor stared a final time at the gray horizon before his vision grew blurry. Clyde had returned.

  In Victor's body. Clyde was a young man again. Lean, fast and starving. He starved for freedom. As the fresh lake air hit his face, he gulped it in, wishing he could become a giant and lean his huge mouth to the water, drink until satisfied. He starved for power. He needed this body forever. In only a few weeks, he would lose his hold over Victor. He could still possess him as he had Alva and Tobias for centuries; however, there was never enough energy to hold their form. When a new century neared, he was lucky to get hours in the bodies of his sires, it was often minutes and drained him for weeks.

  He strode through the house, brushing his fingers over the old paintings, the curtains and the long wooden rail that flanked the grand staircase. He did not notice the dust and grime that coated everything. In his mind, Serpent House stood as regal as she had in her prime when witches roamed the halls casting magic, keeping the likes of him out.

  He snarled at the memory, their haughty, critical eyes always watching him. He could never visit Serpent House in those days, but he had found ways. Rowing to the island at night and watching them from the trees became a nightly escapade. His mother and Eugene toasted their happiness, their magic, while he was expected to sit at home, eating mush and reading the words of some old bore who knew nothing of dreams.