“You should take her home,” Gwen said to Wyatt and Liana Tanner. Wyatt nodded and bowed his head to Gwen. Not because it was expected, but to say thank you for keeping their children safe. Marcus refused to leave with his family, but stayed by his friend’s sides helping build a pyre for Daniel.
Gwen’s body ached with every movement. She thought of what Crystal must be feeling. Of the emptiness, she would feel if that had happened to someone she cared for that deeply. To Silas. She was prepared to bind herself to him. She did care for him that much. “Oh, that could have been Silas,” she said aloud.
Chester nearby went to her side. “We won’t let that happen. Nobody else will be taken, be ended that way.” He shook her by the shoulders. “Gwen, are you hearing me? It’s not going to happen.”
She looked at him, finally registering he was there, touching her. “How…how can you stop it? He won’t stop hunting us. He must know. He must know,” she repeated until her breath caught in her throat. A sob threatening to bubble to the surface.
“No.” Isabella stepped up behind Chester. Her frail frame moving so silently Chester flinched at her words. She knelt to her daughter placing a hand on her cheek. “I’ve never been fond of the curse our family has been given. Never liked that we must contend with all of this. That Seraphina…I was a coward. Stayed hidden away from it. You will not be.”
Gwen looked up then, at her mother’s stern voice and found the eyes that matched her own.
Isabella looked healthy. Healthier than Gwen had thought she’d been. She’d suffered from stage 4 lymphoma. A blood cancer that had rendered her incapable to do much for the last year. She’d fallen ill when her mother passed and refused any magical healing. She wanted nothing more than for her kids to have long happy lives, and for them and herself to be as normal as possible. Magic notwithstanding, she never considered herself a witch. So, she’d spent years battling, and was finally beating cancer. Gwen hadn’t been able to be around her mother. Not because of the cancer, or because she could heal her with a touch, but because her mother fought Gwen’s rightful place as the high priestess.
“What if I’m not strong enough?” she asked Isabella.
“You will be. You are.”
Before Gwen was able to say anything more, Philip Walters was yelling at his wife as Rebecca was moving fast heading straight for Gwen.
“You,” she said in a fury of emotion. “My child is dead because you were with him. Because that monster went after him, after you. How dare you.” She didn’t mean that Gwen had been with Daniel, but because she had conspired with their enemy.
Gwen jumped to her feet and held up a hand. Rebecca was halted in place. “I cared for Daniel. Wanted to murder the man who killed him.” She spoke deliberately, her hand up, palm facing Rebecca holding her. “I would have done anything to keep that from happening. So, don’t for one-minute stand here and doubt my loyalty to my own family. My concern for their well-being. We were ambushed. Silas had nothing to do with it. I’m a target because of what I am, what I have.”
Philip stood several feet behind his wife, not willing to help her. Elle stood next to him, her eyes on Gwen defiantly. “I will take his place.” It was not a question, but more of a demand.
Rebecca was released and looked back at her daughter. “What do you mean?”
Gwen moved toward Rebecca, stopping next to her so that their shoulders touched just barely. “He was one of my coven leaders. He died a member of the Silver Shadows. That makes him my family. He will be remembered as such.”
“Gwen?” Alistair called.
“We completed the rite today. To protect us if we needed it. Silas has turned on his family. His rite completed as well.” She lowered her voice and looked away from her parents. “He wants to be with me.”
“No! I forbid it,” Alistair boomed over the crowd. His body shook with every movement.
Tristan Crain held a hand onto Alistair’s shoulder. His gift seeped into the bigger man, calming his nerves, forcing him to stop seeing red. “Perhaps, now is not the time, Alistair,” he said to his friend.
Alistair looked to Tristan then to his wife. Isabella nodded once and he turned, stomping heavily into the house. Gwen watched her father go. Felt his pulse quicken the farther from Tristan’s touch he went. She looked up to a movement in the windows on the second floor and saw her sister there, with what looked like a smug smile spread across her thin lips. Then she released the curtain and was gone.
The pyre was built and Daniel was placed on top garbed in his ceremonial robes. A black hooded thing with silver embroidery around the edges. Gwen added Elle to the ranks of her leaders and would make it official during the solstice rite. Gwen wore the white robe that belonged to her grandmother. Margaret said the white was to signify the purity of the priestess, the purple embroidery was the markings of each of the families that had served as a leader within the coven. All the families were in attendance once the sun went down. Even Crystal managed to find her way back to the side of that pyre and watched as Gwen and her circle called the elements.
To Gwen’s surprise, the funeral served two purposes. One, they could say goodbye to a fallen friend. Two, all the families were there to bear witness to the power that surged through her veins.
Gwen took her position at Daniel’s head. On her right Chester stood, then Marshal, followed by Elle and finally on Gwen’s left stood Marcus. His shifters eyes, like green marbles against the fire light of the nearby lanterns, kept his sister in sight. Crystal sat with their parents in the front row next to the Walters. Marcus only shifted his gaze when Gwen squeezed his hand. He towered over her, but she was his strength in that moment.
Gwen cleared her throat and began to call the elements to bless her friend. Her brother. “I call the powers of the Earth to aid me this night. Come bear witness to this fallen Shadow.” The ground rumbled beneath the witches that congregated and the murmurs began.
The powers of the elements were not often used. Margaret, lost the gifts when Isabella reached her eighteenth birthday. Those gifts should have passed to her, but when she refused the rite, they were lost to them all. Gwen was a bit surprised herself when she’d first called them to her. However, standing there in front of everyone, most of which had wanted to take those gifts along with her title, she grew smug. If not for the circumstances she would have relished showing off the gifts she possessed from the goddess.
Gwen called the elements to her circle, allowing each of them to take the time to manifest. One after the other the murmurs sounded out around her, but she was focused on Daniel. The way his hair brushed across his forehead. How still his face and body were. Not ever seeing someone whose life had ended, Gwen didn’t know what she was to say. She didn’t look at her family book of shadows or ask anyone who might have been able to give her any insights. She couldn’t speak to anyone. The events in Dublin still made her want to take that man’s life. Just as he’d done to her friend.
Did that mean she was grasping onto her dark side? She knew there was a possibility her gifts could make the lines of what was right and wrong, blur. She’d always thought that was the case because of what the Sigmis family was like. She’d been taught they were dark and evil witches. Having spent so much time with Silas, she wondered if her family was wrong about how those lines were blurred for them as well. She doubted anyone knew the truth behind Seth’s turn to dark magic.
“I call to me those that have passed, to the spirits of my ancestors, to aid me this night. Come bear witness to this fallen Shadow. We ask that you welcome him to your side.” Gwen thought for just a moment that she saw a white shimmer move from the body above the pyre. She wasn’t sure where it went, didn’t see it in the light of the lanterns around the yard.
The circle was cast. Gwen stood looking out at the faces around her. Chester squeezed her hand. She looked at him, and he gave her a nod that said to go on. Nobody spoke, nor did they look they were going to. They were all looking to her. She nodded to Cinnaba
r and Barnaby who each held a lit torch, and they moved to touch them to the base of the pyre.
“Daniel was one of the better people in this world. We were all better people for knowing him. His death, senseless and incomprehensible. The void he has left behind will never be filled. Though we can do our best to mend it. To remember him in his best moments, and even in his worse. For remembering him fully, will keep his spirit alive within us all.”
Gwen fought the myriad of tears she could feel on the brink of falling. Words started to catch in the back of her throat as she began to speak again. She tried her best to keep her voice calm, and unwavering. Her words were carefully chosen, her face purposely up, looking out at the crowd. A strong leader is all they wanted. Evelyn was the ideal candidate, but it was not a title she could vote her way into. Gwen wanted to show her people she was ready to bear the burdens that came along with it, and do so with her head held high and her back firm. To be the person they could fall on in times of need.
“I ask you all to bear witness, as we say goodbye to a dear friend. Gone, but he will never be forgotten,” she said the last words and bowed her head to him. Those gathered did as she had, giving a silent moment to the fallen. Saying a prayer, bidding Daniel farewell.
Crystal sobbed in the front row. Her mother, a thin woman with white hair, held her arm draped over Crystal’s shoulder letting the girl wipe her tears into the heavy coat she wore. Gwen looked to Marcus and felt his heart grow heavy with worry for his sister.
The Walters, Rebecca, and Philip sat on the other side of Crystal. Rebecca’s hand resting on the girl’s. Philip’s green eyes bore into Gwen. His features were so much like his son’s, Gwen felt as if she were looking at the older version of Daniel, to what he would have looked like had he been given the chance. As she closed the circle and bid farewell to Daniel’s spirit, Philip tugged on Rebecca’s hand, lifting her from her seat and left. Gwen watched as they veered straight for the front of the house and their escape from all the people who'd want to give their condolences. Gwen remembered them from when they laid her grandmother to rest. The day was spent listening to empty, meaningless words. None of which could bring the woman back.
Elle turned to Gwen as if she was going to say something, then thought better of it and followed her parents out of the yard.
Crystal refused to move at her parent’s insistence. She didn’t know it, but Daniel was preparing to ask for her hand. They had been dating off and on since grade school. Gwen often wondered what it would have been like to have a love like that. When she looked away from the girl in the front row, her eyes came to rest on the dark hair and brooding eye of the one she thought had answered that very question for her.
Silas stood off in the distance, by the cover of trees watching Gwen. For how long she couldn’t say, but could guess that he had been from the moment they returned to the farm. She let out a long sigh, wishing she could run to him. Let him take her in his arms and make the world disappear if only for a little while.
***
Silas wanted to be by her side. He watched as the cars pulled up to the farm house. He left his car on the side of the road where he usually had the nights they spent together in the cave. He watched as Gwen shook with fear. He wanted to go to her then, but didn’t for fear of his own. What if his father’s people followed them there? What if they attacked while her guard was down further than it had been? He couldn’t stomach it. He stood there, watching, waiting for anything.
Once everyone began to leave and Gwen looked as though she would go to the house, he turned and started toward his car. Somehow, she’d called to him. Not out loud so everyone could hear her, but in his mind. Not so much with words, but with a feeling. A feeling of pure love. He hadn’t known he could ever feel such a thing. His family curse had been brought on by evil, dark magic. To know love as he did growing up, it hadn’t felt anything like that.
He turned, changing directions to go toward the cave. When he got there she was already waiting. Lanterns lit the space, and blankets were strewn about. Nothing looked different, except for Gwen. Her eyes were dark. Darker than they’d ever been. He knew that look.
Kneeling in front of her, he took her hands in his and pulled them close to his face. He felt the icy cold from her fingers and pressed them to his cheek.
“Whatever you're thinking, it’s not good. I can tell.”
“I can’t stop. The thoughts just keep coming.”
“You have to fight them. If you don’t, you’ll only let him win.”
“So what?”
“You can’t mean that.”
“What if I do? What if, instead of us going about this the way I wanted, what if we do things your way? What if I give in to it?”
Silas moved her hand to the space between them and looked at her. To her eyes, always her eyes. That’s what he’d fallen in love with that first meeting. Now, they were devoid of light and color. The wells of her sockets were pitch black.
“What if we do? Could you ever look these people in the eye again? Would you ever be able to return to your family? They will not follow you. Evelyn will get exactly as she wishes. Could you live with that?”
Gwen sat back on her heels, then sunk further to the ground. “What if we run away?” she asked considering.
“From them all?”
“Yes. I don’t care what Evelyn says. She can’t take my power, but she can be the high priestess. I don’t care. I don’t think I can do it anyway.”
“No. I know you can. Let me show you.”
Her eyes lightened a fraction as Silas sat on the blanket and held her hands in his once more. They closed their eyes as the vision took hold.
***
Silas was holding her hand still, but they were standing around a circle. Gwen wore the white robe of the high priestess, and all of the covens were kneeling around them. A girl and a boy stood within the middle of the circle. A white ribbon laid loosely around their hands. They both wore white. The girl in a flowing summer dress, and the boy in thin slacks and a white button up shirt. Both were barefoot within the middle of the circle.
The girl looked a lot like Gwen. Her hair laid to her waist, dark raven locks of curls flowed loosely as the elements circled her, a single braid at either temple meeting in the back of her head. Her amber eyes glowed, signifying it was not Gwen’s circle, but the young girl in the center. She had features of Silas’ as well, he noticed. Subtle ones, in the cheeks and jaw. Her eyes, though the color of Gwen’s had the almond shape of his own. She was slender and Gwen’s eyes lit up as Silas watched her feel the power from within the girl. She was the Crawford witch who would receive all of Seraphina’s gifts.
***
When the vision broke, Gwen opened her eyes to him and they were the same amber color of the young girl from the vision. The blackness had completely gone.
“The girl? The house and the fire? In that vision, we were together, and I was very pregnant. I remember seeing my belly as I sat down to get through the trap door. Is that...? Could it be?”
“I think so. I saw that vision last night. While I was at the cabin. It’s the same clearing you did your rite in today. It’s the same cabin we will make a home in. If you still wish to be with me?”
Gwen stood and began to pace. “I do. I just, it’s just I have this darkness.” She turned to him. “Do you feel it?”
“I do. Sometimes it consumes me.” He looked up at her from the floor of the cave. “Since I’ve met you, it’s lessened.”
“Why?” She turned to him abruptly. “Why is that?”
“The love I feel when I think of you, see you, touch you. It’s like it snuffs it out until there is only room for you.” He stood, took the three steps to stand in front of her.
Her eyes were wild, not black anymore, but like a crazed person on the lookout for an enemy attack. She kept fisting her hands in her hair. He grabbed them and pulled them down to her side, releasing them there he lifted his to the sides of her face, to make her
look him in the eye.
“When I think of you, everything else goes away. Those visions told me we would end up together, but the more time we spent here in this cave, training, the more I feel the need for us to be together.”
“Do you love me?” Her eyes stilled until they looked only at him.
“Yes, I think I do. I’ve never felt love before, but I think what I feel for you must be love because I don’t feel like I’m cursed anymore.”
“I, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you love me too. Say you need time. Say whatever you like. I’ll still feel this way.”
“I do. I know I must if we are to have a child together. I just don’t know if what I feel is because of what I know, or because of what I’ve seen.”
He looked down for a moment, not sure if he could blame her, but then she took his hands from her face and wrapped her arms behind his neck. Pulling their bodies close together. His hands bunched up into the nape of her neck and hair. He’d waited so long to fist his hands there. He pulled her close to his face so he could breathe her in.
Gwen moved her head back to look at him, still holding him close. He didn’t have time to register her lips on his until her nails began to dig into him. She parted her lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, and he did.
He got lost in her and finally knew. The visions may have brought them closer, but they would have been thrust together despite their gifts. He was hers and she was his, and nothing, not even his father could change that. If she felt she needed time to understand the difference, he knew he would give it to her. He would wait until she was certain of her feelings. He pulled her closer, devouring her. She never wavered, thrusting her body closer to his. He put his hands on her hips and held her steady. Their tongues retreated, the kiss softened. She kissed his closed mouth once more before pulling back and looking at him. At least he felt her gaze there. His eyes were closed. When he opened them, she was staring at him. She kissed his lips once more then left the cave.
Turning the Stone Page 8