Some have said she chose to take them back before giving them to the ring for good. The conscience of a grown adult was able to understand the consequences of what the child had done. Only with the power within her did she feel the pain of the knowledge of what those gifts cost. She took them in her and mourned those lost souls for over a hundred years.
Silas didn’t know how much of the story he believed, but Sigmis couldn’t let go of it. He wanted that ring and the power inside. Sending Silas to the Crawford home was Sigmis’ idea. He’d groomed his son for the very purpose of going to find the Crawford girl. It was widely known, that she was untrained and very much unprepared. If his father’s plan were to work, the Silver Shadows would be no more. Putting him, not his father, in the top position amongst the covens.
He thought of her again. The heat in the summer air made his brow sweat, though he might have thought it was from what he was considering. Could he? He thought he could follow through with what he was sent to do, but when he saw her, he admitted he didn’t know if it would be possible. Their fates were intertwined somehow anyway. For him to find out just how much, he’d have to come face to face with Gwendolyn Crawford. That scared him more than going against his father.
Silas felt a twinge of regret reach up into his gut. Then it happened. The vision he’d been having for three years made him swerve the car to the side of the road. A car behind him sounding the horn as it passed. He shook his head to clear it, but the vision remained.
The Crawford girl was crouched in the middle of a room. She looked as though she were in someone’s arms, but whoever it was still wasn’t visible to Silas in the vision. Smoke filled the room, and she coughed. With her back to Silas, she hunched forward in place without moving. Shouting sounded from outside, and a bottle full of liquid was thrown through a closed window into the small house. It contained a cloth that had been lit with flames. She coughed again.
“Move,” he yelled to the girl. “Get out. Why are you just sitting there?” Frustration overtook him. He slammed his fists against what had to be the steering wheel, but nothing happened in the vision. Nothing changed. She remained huddled on the floor, coughing as the smoke filled her lungs. Silas sat back against the seat of his car, waiting for the vision to clear. Once the man outside banged on the door again, it would clear. It always did.
The man hit the front door with his fists, which was barricaded with furniture. Silas sighed knowing the end was near, but something changed. Before the house cleared, the girl began to stand. She turned to face him, and Silas felt a wave of shock. The vision was gone and he was left alone in the front seat of his car in the dark.
Chapter III
“Do you think he has these visions? I mean, what if he sees that you're trying to change things? Man, we are so dead.”
“Calm down, Ginger. No need to get your knickers in a bunch.”
“Hex, I told you not to call me that. Damn.” Finis reached over and landed a punch to Hex’s thigh.
“Damn it. You little…” Hex was cut off by the restriction of air to his throat. His hands went to his neck grasping at the invisible hand that held him in place, keeping him from attacking.
“I’m sick of listening to you two fighting.” Silas let his power loosen around Hex and pulled a chair away from the round kitchen table to sit. “He couldn’t possibly know what I’m doing. I’m having visions of her because she hasn’t been properly trained. She doesn't know how to use her power to block her mind.”
Hex rubbed his hand against his neck. “He could tap into her mind as you have. He might not be able to see you with her in these visions, but just as you have, he can put two and two together.”
Silas looked between the two men at the table. “I think it’s time to move the time table up.”
The foot work had been done by Sigmis before he told Silas where he was going. The paperwork had been filed, and when Silas and the boys walked into their new home in Springfield, his class schedule was sitting on the kitchen table along with a stack of text books. Part one of the changes Silas was making in his father’s plan began when he cleared the contents of the table into the waste bin.
After a week of shifts between Hex and Finis, Silas figured out that Gwendolyn liked to disappear into a cave on the backside of her family’s property. She spent more than half the night there reading under the moon. Just as the rest of her family, she was inebriated in moon magic. He decided it was time to move forward with his plan. In order to make it work without his father finding out anything, he would have to get close to Gwendolyn and train her to use her gifts. Whatever was to follow he’d make due with, as long as his father didn’t get his hands on the immortal curse.
Silas sent Finis to scout ahead of him. Letting Hex take up the rear as they made their way to the cave. He knew the girl would be startled at first, but he also knew he would be able to get her to trust him. He’d have to.
The leaves crunched underfoot as they navigated between the trees in the thickest part of the woods. The August air was suffocating; hot and thick even at the darkest point of the night. Silas could tell they were getting closer to the cave when a cool breeze separated the dense dry air picked up off the large body of water nearby. Silas moved his hair from his forehead and pushed it behind his ears. A light shone faintly in the mouth of the cave, he stopped, took a deep breath and looked down at the large white wolf next to him.
“What do you think? Subtle? Or barge right in?”
The wolf sniffed the air and turned away flicking his tail left to right.
“Huh, what would you know anyway?”
The rock wall was cool to the touch. Using one hand for balance Silas maneuvered his way into the mouth of the cave, taking care not to slide down the slope of the path as he went. The light moved around inside telling him it was not stationary.
“Where did it go?” He heard the girl’s temper ringing throughout what sounded like a small space. “Where the hell did it go?” The sounds of papers rustled, several small thuds of sound which reminded him of leather bound books when he’d let one fall on top of another.
He moved forward still. Listening to her growing frustration. The wall curved and twisted until finally, he caught a glimpse of her. Her long raven hair billowed down to her waist in mismatched curls and waves. From the distance he’d seen her from before, he was unable to see the clarity of the blue in her eyes, the pout in her lips and the curves of her body. She was wearing a long black summer dress with thin straps at the shoulder. One had slipped down resting across her arm. Silas wished he could reach out and push it back up where it belonged just to feel her milky white skin beneath it. The longer he stood there, the more he began to notice the slight fragrance of cherry blossoms. When his foot hit something solid in the middle of the path he stopped.
“1865, 1866, 1867…69. Where is it?”
“Looking for something?” He watched as she jumped back. She fell off her knees to the flat of her bottom. Silas moved into the light producing the small leather-bound book. The date was stamped in gold lettering on the spine, 1868. "Doesn't look like it's worth enough to be upset over."
"Yeah? Well, how would you know? You don't even know what you're holding." She moved quickly to her feet and held out her hand in a way that demanded her property be returned to her.
Silas took stock of the room from the opening. He'd been right about the size of the space, it was big enough to fit a queen-sized bed in, but nothing more. There were blankets, books, pencils and empty soda cans scattered around. A gas-powered lantern sat on the floor, and a heavy pair of iron manacles hung from the stone wall. Without releasing the book, he walked over to study them. They were connected by an iron chain. The cuffs themselves looked too old to be useful.
"Do you actually use these? They look medieval."
"Can I have my book, please? Then you can tell me who the hell you are and why you've stumbled onto my property." She sucked a breath in between her teeth.
He look
ed at the book, then started to flip it open.
"I'd rather you didn't do that!"
"Fine." He jumped when the echo of her voice boomed inside the cave wall. "Here, have your book back." He thrust the book at her with one hand and turned back to the irons on the wall waiting for her to take it. "But seriously, is this for shifters?" He spared her a glance. Not able to make heads nor tails of whether she was going to answer, he placed one of his wrists in the cuff and latched it, then the other.
"What are you doing?" she asked resuming her position on the blanket beneath her.
"I thought I was making you feel more at ease to talk openly, but I can see you really don't care one way or the other."
"If you know about shifters then chances are you know who I am. Which means you didn't stumble onto my property. You just don't want an audience for your request. This," she said motioning to Silas' hands trapped, "is going to do nothing to sway me one way or the other."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Well, what is it then that you think I want?"
"Evelyn wants my position as high priestess, I know. She can't have it. Surely, one of your people realizes that it's not as simple as requesting it from the Council. Chaining yourself to the wall isn't going to sway me into giving it up."
"No?"
"Of course not." She stood, then raising her voice to echo within the cave once more. "I resent the fact that so many of you have gone to my father to make him see reason. This is not negotiable.
"Granted, there hasn't been a high priestess since my grandmother Margaret passed, but that's not my fault. It is my birthright. I will not squander it away."
"Ok, if you're certain that's how you feel, would you mind releasing me?"
She moved to where Silas saw the key hanging from the stone wall on the opposite side of the cave, but stopped short. "You’re not a Delaney are you?"
"What makes you ask that?"
"I can't sense you. Which means you are not a member of the Raven’s Watch come to discuss the position of high priestess, but someone else entirely."
"Very good." He smiled and she back away from him.
"Why does that make you happy? I've figured you out before letting you free."
"I never planned on getting out of here without telling you who I am. I suppose you'll want to keep me here and ransom me off."
"You’re a death watcher. As far as I know, there is only one family in this state with that gift. Mine. Who are you?"
Silas released the hold he had on his gifts. Putting the wall up was as second nature to him as breathing. Taking it down took a bit of work, but he did it. He wanted her to figure out who he was by using her own gifts. She needed to be trained. With others vying for her position with the Council, she needed help now more than ever.
She looked at Silas with hungry eyes, but hadn't made a move on him yet. He wanted her, no needed her to get angry, not just suspicious. She would need that anger as a trigger to allow her to access all the gifts of a death watcher that she had no idea about. Once recognition set in him that she was trying to read him, he released the rest of his barrier. Her expression grew weary, then filled with fear and finally became dark.
"Get a good look?"
"Why?"
"Why what, sweetheart?"
"Why let me find out? Why not lie? Anything other than the truth. Why would you...?"
"Let you see who I am and what I'm after?"
She shook her head and he lowered his.
"Because, I might be my father's son, but I'm not my father."
She stared at him, obviously concentrating hard on using gifts left dormant inside of her. It was seemingly hard for her to do, but she managed to figure him out. Silas let her roam in and out of the folds of his mind. She ventured through the bleak and dark childhood, to the training and planning for that day. The day he would show up and change both of their lives forever. He’d seen the vision of the future, but it was subjectable. The future was ever changing. One misstep and it could be altered, but not always for the best.
It was Silas’ great misfortune to have learned the hard way that trying to change what is to come only makes matters worse. Unfortunately for his family, their entire existence was due to one wrong misstep after another, beginning with his great-great grandfather Seth Sigmis. Silas was not immune to the fact the books she was stacking were similar to those that had once belonged to Seth Sigmis. They were journals. Every witch was taught at a very young age to record everything in one. To always have one in hand. Silas wondered, based on the dates on the spines, if they once belonged to Seraphina Crawford.
She still hadn’t moved to release him from the cuffs, but instead took up her place on the blankets sprawled across the cave floor. Gwendolyn. Her name rolled over like a wave in his mind. He was forced to recall the vision of her. The look in her eyes when she turned to face him. The condition she was in. Sitting on the cold rock of the cave he knew, knew that he would kill whoever it was that would be the mastermind of such an attack. He knew he would lay his life at her feet, in front of anyone who might try to harm her. He didn’t need to see the vision through her eyes to know the one she clung to was himself.
“What are you looking at?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and fidgeted with the book he’d handed her in her lap.
“You.”
“Why? Why are you here?”
“You saw what lays in my mind. Don’t you know?”
She looked at him, then to the book, flipping its pages in a frantic motion. Could it be possible she didn’t see? She seemed to have no regard for him then. Silas wondered if she was considering running to her father or her brothers. When she finally put the book back in her lap, she held her place with the tip of her thumb and looked at him.
“You're being here…it’s just a bit odd. I’m trying to figure out, or rather make sense of what you showed me. I’m trying to— to piece it together.” She seemed to be considering how much she could divulge about the extent of her gifts. He dared not tell her that he’d known for months that she refused her gifts until her birthday brought them to her in full force.
“You see…” she started to say, then stopped. Sucked in a breath and relaxed back, removing her legs from under her to sit on her bottom. “I didn’t really want this. That’s not to say that I still don’t because I do. When I would have been able to get training for my position, I turned my back on it.”
He couldn’t stand that look in her eyes. “I know.” It slipped from his lips before he had a chance to think about it.
“How?”
“My father has been very interested in your upbringing. He’s monitored you for much of your life, to see if you were the one.”
“The one to take the curse? Goddess no!” She stood to pace the small room. “That’s something I definitely don’t want. I feel bad for the poor girl who has to take it on. I just hope it doesn’t happen for many more generations.”
“Well, then why wouldn’t you want to be the high priestess?”
“I thought it was something being forced on me. I never totally understood that my mother hadn’t taken up the position. My grandmother remained high priestess until she passed.” She peered at Silas with a questioning glare. “You're using your gift on me! Stop that.” She stomped her foot against the stone floor.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Of course, you are. Why else would I be sharing any of this with you?”
“I was wondering that myself.”
“Hmm.”
Silas sat quietly as Gwendolyn moved to the opening of the cave. She looked back at him and then slipped out into the darkness.
It was a wonder Silas didn’t feel even a slight amount of panic when she left. She could have gone to retrieve any number of people at her disposal. Her protector, Chester Crain was probably at the top of her list. At least she’d managed to throw up a wall to keep him from spying on her movements. Just his presence had made her star
t to use her gift. He tried as hard as he could to tear at the barrier she’d created, but it was stone solid. Good. Now, to get her to do that until it’s as easy as taking a breath.
When she didn’t return anytime soon, Silas reached out with his mind to locate his friends. He had told them to remain close, to keep an eye on the mouth of the cave. Once she left without him, Finis and Hex should have sought him out. He felt them, both of them. Slipping into Hex’s mind he looked through his eyes at the wolf’s surroundings. He stood poised where Silas had left him. His eyes trained on the opening. The light inside danced and flickered like the live flame of a candle, even though the lantern next to Silas remained still.
A glamour. He remembered the flickering light when he’d approached the opening. Then the impenetrable darkness once he’d been inside. The twists and turns of the rock would never have allowed the light to illuminate the opening. It had to be a marker so she could find the cave in the darkness. After watching for so long, Silas knew she visited mostly at night when the moon was high in the sky. When she was at her most powerful. She was training. He hadn’t just wandered upon her while her defenses were down. He’d interrupted her training. Searching for the book must have caused her to lose her concentration.
The sound of rock against rock made him blink out of Hex’s mind and jump back into his own. The wolf had no information for him. He’d not seen the girl leave, that was why wolf and fox still stood guard.
When he opened his eyes, he was face to face with the blue of the ocean. Her long thick lashes like silhouettes of a tall mountain. She blinked and he felt the breath she held, long and hot on his face. His thoughts became muddled. His head lighter than air. The room spun and Gwendolyn Crawford faded out of his vision.
Turning the Stone Page 2