Wynter threw a portion of two plants into the stone mortar, crushing them together with a violence that revealed her inner turmoil. She calmed herself and stayed her hand as he strolled past. Her eyes closed as his presence again overwhelmed her. What in the name of the Goddess? He threw off pheromones as if he were ready to mate that very moment. And her witch embraced it. She bit her tongue hard to break his thrall.
“You said you wished to commission another piece. What do you want this time?”
“I wish for a lot of things, my lady, but today I want you to design me a snare.”
“A what?” Wynter faced him, very aware of his close proximity. She silently vowed not to let him intimidate her. She frowned. Intimidate her? No man could do that. Ever. What was wrong with her?
He paced away and she could breathe again.
“Are you a wizard?” she blurted out. His head swung toward her, eyes narrowed. Wynter immediately searched her memory for a spell to undo the words, but her mind remained blank.
Then Theodric threw his head back and roared with laughter.
After a few moments, Wynter had an urge to join him. Although her lips twitched, she tamped down the impulse and returned to her work. “It wasn’t that amusing.”
He collapsed onto her stool and propped his chin on his hand. “Yes, it was. I wonder why you would think I dabble in witchcraft.”
She glanced at him. The broad smile and twinkle in his eyes transformed him from the man she loathed into ... something more. As if he read her thoughts, he cupped the back of her neck and tugged until his parted lips touched hers.
Neither closed their eyes. After a long moment, he eased away. His hand lightly caressed her throat, and then he drew his thumb along her lower lip.
“I’ve wondered what it would be like,” he murmured, “to kiss a witch.” He grinned and cocked his head to the side. “When you don’t make yourself appear as a hag, I quite like it.”
His flippancy broke the spell for Wynter. “Don’t get used to it,” she retorted and pulled away.
Wynter didn’t understand what just happened. How did he know she had changed her appearance? She still didn’t trust him, yet he made it difficult to resist his charms. It didn’t make sense at all, since he wished to impress the queen, not her. Maybe he had obtained a spell from a wizard, one that made him palatable to the opposite sex. That had to be it.
Satisfied with her deductions, she allowed her mouth to curve up. “You said you wanted a snare. For what?”
“To capture the lady of my dreams.”
“You mean the queen?”
“Can you design something for me? I need it soon.” He reached out and swept his fingers lightly across her hand.
With his touch, Wynter’s vision blurred. She could already see the piece. A necklace, worked with exquisitely thin copper, forming a spider’s web. The spider herself would hang from the bottom, carrying a precious jewel. She blinked and the image disappeared, but the seed of urgency remained. Shivers crept up and down her spine. She silently vowed to devise a spell to protect the queen.
“Give me three days.”
Chapter Five
Lancaster: present day
Hannah juggled her phone and the grocery bags on the walk home. “Hi, G-ma,” she said when her grandmother answered.
“Hannah! It’s lovely to hear your voice. When are you coming to Clitheroe to visit me?”
“I can’t this weekend. I’m working on a key design, but it’s just not coming together.”
Her grandmother laughed. “You were always single-minded, even as a little girl. I remember your mother calling me and complaining that you could never multi-task.”
“I can multi-task, just not when it comes to my jewelry. Question, G-ma?”
“Yes, dear?”
Hannah reached the entrance to her apartment building. Situated in the middle of downtown, the old row houses brought charm and a sense of shared community to the area. Instead of one family occupying each house, a developer had renovated the entire block to include three flats per unit. Across the tree-lined street, a small cafe on one corner and pizzeria on the other offered take-out meals.
Instead of a triple-juggle to include a key search, she set the groceries down on the small landing and sat on the top step. “Um, it concerns the mirror.”
Even without seeing her grandmother, she felt a wave of renewed interest through the airborne signal. “What is it you need to know? Did you forget the verse?”
“You can say ‘spell.’ I won’t freak out on you like I did in ninth grade when you told me I was a witch.” She huffed out a breath, unsure how to go on. “Sorry.”
“Hannah, it’s okay to ask questions. Don’t be afraid.”
“If I’m not afraid of seeing a medieval scene in a mirror that Alvin made, G-ma, trust me, I’m good.”
“Renaissance scene, dear. Alvin may have made the mirror but you—and what’s inside of you—bring the vision forward. You know, Alvin has secrets too. You should actually sit down and talk to him.”
Hannah huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I like that, G-ma. The conversation will go something like this: “Hi Alvin. My art is inspired by jewelry that my witchy grandmother obtained from her witchy ancestors centuries ago. Can you feel the sorcery?”
“Sorcery is a good word. Witchcraft is better.”
G-ma’s previous statement finally clicked into Hannah’s consciousness. “Wait a minute. You said Alvin has secrets too. Does this have anything to do with the mirror? That’s why I called. Grant put the mirror in the gallery. It’s up for sale.”
“Hmm. Slow down. Is that the only mirror of his you can access to see the past?”
Hannah nodded as if her grandmother could see the gesture. She bit her lip, thinking. “Do you think there are other mirrors in Alvin’s studio that I can use?”
“Did you hear what I said about Alvin?”
With her foot, she pushed a pebble across the second step until it fell over the lip, delaying her answer as long as possible.
“Hannah? Did you hear—”
“Yes,” she interrupted. “Alvin and I should talk.” She winced. If she heard the pout in her voice, her grandmother couldn’t miss it.
Her grandmother sighed. “Honey, your mother left your teaching to my care because that’s the way it’s always been done in our family. I know you’ve been busy with your art and haven’t had as much time to devote to our craft. You’re still young, and I’m a patient woman. You’ll tell me when you’re ready to discover more, both about yourself, your friend and his ... amazing mirrors.”
With those words, like someone flipped a switch, Hannah felt a need to return to her studio. She wanted to leave the groceries on the stoop, walk away.
But there was something ... here. She stood, searched up and down the now empty street and even glanced at the neighbors’ open windows. Nothing. Nothing moved but a spider spinning her web between the light fixture and the railing, preparing for a busy night of moths and mosquitoes. Hannah inched closer and watched the sunlight shimmer on the delicate strands in the slight breeze.
“G-ma, can you tell me the name of the woman in the mirror?”
Her grandmother didn’t hesitate. “Wynter, with a ‘y.’ Oh, and look through your mail. You should have received a package from us today.”
Hannah glanced through the locked glass door. Sure enough, a small package was on the table next to the mailboxes. “You and ... Wynter? Or you and Alvin?”
“Isn’t that what I said? Love you. Come see me soon.”
The phone went dead, leaving Hannah staring at the box. Wynter.
~ * ~
“Hannah, come take a food break.”
“Don’t annoy me, Glimmer Man. I’m working.”
Hannah took another length of ultra thin wire and wove it back and forth between the anchoring stems. She grasped a narrow metal pick, using it to gently push the wire down, completing a row.
Alvin sauntered to her side
. “Wow. That’s an incredible spider web. I like the Steampunk look. You’ve got a lot of detail going on here.”
She stretched the kinks out of her back and hands. “It’s coming along.” Peering through a twelve-inch magnifier, she soldered both ends and clipped the wire. “One more row and I can place the gears and the spider on it. See?” She motioned to her right, where the preliminary pieces she had worked were finished and ready to mount.
He bent close. “Incredible. What is it, exactly?”
Most artists would have been annoyed by the question, but she knew Alvin well enough to understand he looked beyond the obvious. He delved into the reason behind the creation.
She glanced for the umpteenth time at the box that had sat on the top left corner of her workbench for over two weeks. She had only removed the outer wrapping of the package from her grandmother, and the black velvet now enticed her with a subconscious open me—open me chant. The extreme pull of whatever nestled inside brought out her stubborn streak. She refused to open it until she finished the piece on her bench.
“It’s a snare.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think.
“A what?” Alvin pulled up a nearby stool, a sure sign he was intrigued.
“A snare.” Hannah put her chin on her doubled-up fists and contemplated the piece attached firmly in the jeweler’s clamps. “That’s apropos, don’t you think? It’s a collar designed to encircle a woman’s throat, used in the Renaissance as a sign of possession. And a trap—how better to catch your prey than with a spider’s web?”
“Prey? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” Alvin reached for a pair of stretchy white gloves. “May I?”
Hannah nodded. His big hands caressing the delicate spider made a beautiful contrast. He examined it from all sides before setting it back down.
“You do amazing work, Hannah. We should plan to do something together. You game?” His words were benign, but the intense look in his eyes created another contrast.
“Maybe.” God, yes. “Listen, I can finish this later. You want to grab a pizza or something?”
Alvin grinned like a kid in a toyshop. “Ah, a woman after my own heart. And to prove how much I appreciate you, I’ll buy.” He rose from the stool and offered her a chivalrous bow.
“Charmed sir, I am sure.” Hannah turned off the soldering iron and set it carefully out of the way, so she could cover her work. She hesitated a moment while her hand hovered over the box, unsure whether she should take it with her or leave it.
“What’s in that?” Alvin must have noticed her uncertainty.
Hannah made up her mind. “I have no clue,” she said cheerfully. “No clue at all.”
Alvin stuck his head into Grant’s office as they walked past. “We’re heading out now. Do you need anything else tonight?”
Grant stretched his arms over his head and twisted in his chair. “No. I’m waiting on one more client. He should be here before closing time. Then Des and I will do Chinese take-out and make passionate love all night long.”
Hannah grabbed Alvin’s hand and pulled him away from the door. “Ewww. That’s just TMI, Grant.”
Alvin laughed. “Too much information. Agreed. Come on. There’s a new place I want to try.” He didn’t let go of her as they strolled out the door and through the downtown streets.
It felt good to touch him. They argued good-naturedly, each pointing out the merits of different pizza restaurants. Hannah urged him toward the one she loved—Angel’s, across the street from her flat. She didn’t know if that was an unconscious attempt to have him close to her home, but she didn’t care. She decided tonight she’d just let go and have fun.
Maybe she would even take G-ma’s advice and have that chat.
Chapter Six
Lancaster Castle: 1543
“What are you doing? I haven’t seen or heard from my counselor for a while.”
Wynter felt Aurelia’s hand on her shoulder. She bent further over the sheet of parchment covering the middle of the workbench, cut herbs strewn and dying on both sides.
“A commission for Lord Theodric. You probably shouldn’t be looking at it, for I fear it is for you.”
“Fear?”
“It’s a snare. See?” She leaned back and pointed to the picture. “It’s a trap for ... marriage, I suppose.” Wynter contemplated the web. It was turning out better than she even imagined it. She could cast the copper by tomorrow. Over the past few days, the longing for Theodric’s approval gnawed deep inside her. She shook her head. It was a commission. Period. That it was for her queen ... well, she’ll deal with that when the time came.
“It’s beautiful, Wynter. If he doesn’t accept it, I will.”
Wynter flushed with pride and trepidation. She felt the pull of the object even without a spell. That worried her.
“Can you tear yourself away to walk with me in the garden? It’s a beautiful day, and I have need of your advice.”
Wynter didn’t want to go. She wanted to finish the drawing. “Of course, my lady.” She stood but couldn’t make her feet move as she stared at the parchment. Her heart beat faster; it felt as if it would burst out of her chest and take flight. Sweat poured down her face and between her breasts. She wiped her palms on her skirt.
Snatching up the parchment, Aurelia placed it face down on the table. Instantly, Wynter felt the weight release her from its grasp. She gasped for air.
“Are you all right, Wynter? What happened?”
Wynter shook her head. She took the queen’s hand and quickly led her out of the conservatory and into the fresh air. “It’s a spell. It has to be. I knew Theodric could not be trusted. He came a couple of days ago with this commission. I instantly knew what he wanted—but there was something unusual, different. Aurelia, I know we haven’t talked about this much, but can you tell me your thoughts of him?”
They strolled the dirt paths of the garden, arm in arm, the fragrance of roses permeating the air. Here and there, a gardener clipped the dead and dying flowers to encourage greater growth, or cut the long stems to decorate the hall. Colors of every hue filled the eye.
“I don’t know, Wynter. There are so many vying for my hand. If I thought of each one, I wouldn’t be able to take care of other, more important things.”
Wynter stopped and examined the other woman. Tall and elegant, the queen dressed as befitted her station in a sapphire blue gown. Her blonde hair fell loose down her back, an indication of her unwed state. Wynter assumed her marital status related more to the untimely death of her parents, the previous royals, rather than reluctance on Aurelia’s part.
“You do wish to marry, don’t you?”
“Of course. When the time is right.”
Wynter smiled. “That might be forever at your pace. Has any caught your eye at all?”
The queen took her arm and resumed their stroll. Every few steps she bent to bury her nose in a flower, inhaling deeply. “Yes, there is one.”
Wynter waited. The sun disappeared behind a cloud and glowed again. “Well? Shall you tell me?”
The queen hesitated slightly. “No, I think not. You’d put a spell on him.”
Wynter’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh, not in a bad way,” Aurelia assured her. “Only in a way you would assume was the best for me. Am I not right?”
Reluctantly, Wynter nodded.
“It’s all right. I do understand. You’ve been taking care of me for a long time, Wynter. But in this, even your magick has its limitations.”
“True, my lady. But there are ways to cast the spells—”
“So they don’t come back to haunt you. Yes, I know. But in this, I want nothing to do with spells and magick. I want the man to come to me, open and honest, and I will judge him for what he is.”
A spear of guilt pierced Wynter’s chest. “What if he appears to be something he’s not?”
Aurelia inclined her head. “Highly possible. But that is life, is it not?”
“My qu
een, I would protect you from fraud and heartache.”
“I know you would, but this is not necessary. I came to you because I want to show you what I received a few days ago.” Aurelia pulled an item from her pocket and put it in Wynter’s hands. “One of yours?”
Wynter stared at the key she had turned over to Lord Theodric a month ago. So he had given it to her. If Aurelia wore it, the incantation should do its work. The queen will see into the man’s true heart. So much for the queen’s insistence of no magick. She forced a smile and a light tone.
“Yes, it is mine. Will you wear it?”
“That depends. Did you put a love spell on it?”
“No, I did not put a love spell on this key,” Wynter answered, careful to speak the exact truth.
Aurelia nodded as she took the key back. “My handmaiden is looking for the perfect chain. I’ll have it on at dinner tonight.” She turned it over and over. “I’m happy to know it is made by your hand. It will protect me whether I will it or not.”
“Yes, my queen.” She paused. “And the man you received this from?”
“He won’t be at dinner. He is away gathering more gifts for me, or so he said. We shall see.” She guided them towards the conservatory. “We both have work. I’ll leave you to it and expect you to dine with me later.” Her nose wrinkled. “Bathed and freshly dressed, if you don’t mind. You’ve been at your task for three straight days.”
Chapter Seven
Lancaster: present day
Half a pepperoni pizza and three pints should have mellowed Hannah into a good night’s sleep, but all she could do was stare at the ceiling. She tossed and turned for an hour with her stomach churning before she gave up and pulled on her sweats.
Ten minutes later, she used her key to enter through the back door of the studio. The restlessness and sense of foreboding evaporated the instant she uncovered the web. She breathed out a relieved sigh. The swarm of butterflies, beating to escape her insides, hadn’t affected her budding relationship with Alvin.
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