Which Witch is Which? (The Witches of Port Townsend)

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Which Witch is Which? (The Witches of Port Townsend) Page 33

by Kerrigan Byrne


  Moira laughed and quickly covered it with a cough.

  “Where was I? Oh yes, the Standing Stones. They are a sacred place, but stay away from them. The magic that residence in the stones is very powerful. Too powerful for you four.”

  They slid glances at each other.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You know where we're headed, right?” Claire regarded the three of them with a wicked smile.

  They'd poured Aunt Justine into bed and now sat huddled around the kitchen table. Evening had seeped silently in.

  “Mom died there,” Tierra said. “We were born there. Answers are hidden there in the ground. I can feel them, but we need to know more about these Standing Stones before we go off half-cocked.” There had been too much of that lately. And low and behold, she was the worst offender. Her hand slid to her belly and hovered over what was quickening inside her right now.

  More than ever, she needed answers.

  “We don't leave the sanctuary of this house without a solid protection plan,” Tierra continued. “Weapons, spells, potions, all of it. You know they're waiting for us to do something like this.”

  “Look at Miss Bossy pants takin' over,” Moira said. “I like it, and I agree. No goin' off half-cock—”

  “Always full-cocked,” Aerin added. “That's my motto.”

  “And loaded.” Claire snickered. “Hell, I need to get out of here and do something.”

  “So where do you think these Standing Stones are?” Aerin asked Tierra.

  “I don't know. I think—”

  “You mean to say you've lived here all your life,” Aerin interrupted, “and you've never found huge magical rocks? The peninsula isn't that big.”

  “Apparently it is, because I don't have a clue where they are. I've hiked all over the peninsula, and I've never seen or heard of these Standing Stones. But…I think I can find them.” She didn't know why, but she felt a certain pull and could only assume it was Mother Earth whispering to her. “I need the map.”

  Claire produced it and they spread it out over the table. Claire also provided the crystal. “Here, you scry.”

  Tierra took the crystal in her hand, feeling the warmth of it against her palm. “How?”

  “I'm not sure,” Claire said. “I have no idea how it worked the last time. Maybe just put the thought in your head and see what happens. We have nothing to lose.” She shrugged. “At least on this.”

  Tierra closed her eyes and brought into mind the forests, the trees, the meadows. A vision of a place high on the cliffs that overlooked the ocean and butted up against trees came into focus. Stones as tall as she, some taller, stood as sentries in a circle and gleamed like bones in the moonlight. She dropped the crystal and let it hang from the chain that she lightly held between her fingertips. When it thunked on the map, she opened her eyes. “The west side of the peninsula at Siren's Cry.”

  “Siren's Cry?” Aerin asked.

  “The constant mist shrouding the area appears to weep, and the wind whistles around the cliffs, making this haunting sound as if a woman is crying…”

  “Our mother crying?” Claire said. They looked at her horrified. “You were all thinking it too.”

  “Damned if that ain't sadder than kickin' a three-legged puppy,” Moira whispered.

  “It's supposed to be haunted,” Tierra said. “No one goes there. The last teenagers who attempted came back with horror stories.”

  “You've never thought about investigating?” Aerin asked.

  “Not until now. I always got this feeling of overwhelming sadness and pain. I-I just couldn't venture up there. But now…”

  “We have to go,” Aerin said.

  “Yes.” Tierra nodded.

  “Tonight?” Claire asked. “Or should we wait until morning?”

  “Tonight. Something, no, someone waits for us.” Tierra's eyes widened as the words came out of her mouth.

  Claire took her hand. “I feel it, too.”

  “It's decided then,” Aerin said. “We go.”

  They all nodded.

  “Let me get my shoes!” Moira hollered already turning and rushing out of the room.

  “And the squirt guns.” Claire left for the formal dining room that she'd turned into a weapons garage.

  Aerin glanced down at her velour workout clothes. “I'd better change. Do you have any hiking boots or something without a high heel?”

  “Come on.” They went upstairs to Tierra's room.

  “Wow, this is a lot of color,” Aerin said as she entered.

  “What's wrong with color?”

  “Nothing. It's just a lot, that's all.”

  Tierra handed Aerin a well-worn pair of hiking boots. “Here. Try these, and maybe wear some jeans. Do you have jeans?”

  “Sure I do. I bought this amazing pair in Italy.”

  “You attached to them?”

  “No more than I am to any of my clothes. They can be replaced.” Aerin turned to go, but stopped. “You okay with this?” She pointed to Tierra's middle.

  “No.”

  “There are ways to—”

  “No.”

  Aerin nodded. “Too early to talk about it and not the right time. Just know that we're here for you. I'm here for you.”

  “Thanks, Aerin.”

  “I'll see you downstairs.” She closed the door behind her.

  Tierra turned to the full-length mirror standing in the corner. Multi-hued scarves were draped forgotten over the frame. She gathered them up and tossed them on the bed in order to see her reflection better.

  She looked pale, but then she'd had a shock, one she didn't know how to deal with. She unbuttoned the vintage lace vest and discarded the smoky blue camisole underneath. Cupping her breasts, she was surprised how sensitive and full they felt. She moved her hands down to her stomach. It was concaved, flat with a hint of underlying muscle. Not ripped, but not bad. She traced the belly-button ring.

  An emerald, the sacred stone of Aphrodite infused with the powers of healing, love and luck. She'd have to go with unlucky in love right now. The stone was also supposed to be a symbol of fertility and she'd gone ahead and pierced it over her heart charka. Years ago she'd chosen it because she liked the color as it reminded her of the forests she loved and the stone embodied the energy of nature. But could it have had a part in the child growing inside her?

  How did one explain conceiving a child with Death?

  What would he say? What would he do?

  “Tierra?” Claire yelled up the stairs. “You ready?”

  “Coming!” She couldn’t deal with any of this now. She had time. Well, a little less than eight months thereabouts. She yanked her camisole back on and pulled over a long-sleeved sweater. Sliding her feet into another pair of hiking boots, she left on her cotton floral skirt knowing she'd move better in the loose comfortable fabric if she needed to. Jeans were just too restrictive for her.

  She added bracelets of protection crystals against evil and black magic. Agate, garnet, and black tourmaline. Jinx meowed behind her where she'd curled up on the scarves. Tierra scooped up the cat's eye crystal, too, and then the jasper at the last minute. Jasper was protection during childbirth, but it should help while pregnant too, right? Wouldn't hurt.

  She hurried and joined her sisters in the kitchen.

  “Let's blow this crab shack,” Moira said, antsy in her flip-flops.

  “Those are what you’re wearing to go hiking in the forest?” Aerin asked. “At night?”

  “My thongs work fine for the bayou. Why would the forests 'round here be any more different? No gators.”

  “Fine.” Aerin shook her head, but a smile teased her lips. “But grab a jacket, would you?”

  “I got a hoodie.” Moira held up the thin jersey.

  “I need to take you shopping,” Aerin mumbled.

  “Why are you carryin' a broom? You plannin' on sweepin' some pine needles?”

  “It's something I've been working on.” Aerin smiled. “You'll s
ee.”

  “All right, here we go,” Claire came into the room loaded for bear. “I converted these military vests. It'll make the guns easier to carry and there's room for a back-up weapon, or three or four, maybe more.” She pulled out a kitchen torch from the breast pocket of hers. “I'm still hit and miss on conjuring fire on command, but this way I have a flame to build on. Aerin you can blow my flame—”

  “You got it.”

  “—and increase whatever storm Moira can stir up.”

  “Been workin' on that too.” Moira slipped on the vest, holstered her squirt gun, and picked up one of the water cannons and held it across her chest. “I feel like freakin' Rambo.”

  “What about Grim?” Tierra asked. “Should we take the book? We might need the spells if we get into trouble.”

  “We'd better leave it in case for that exact reason,” Claire said. “If the book falls into the wrong hands—”

  “It'll be grim?” Tierra said sheepishly. “Sorry, getting a little nervous.”

  “Grim's better protected here with the wards.” Claire looked at them all. “We ready?”

  “Ready,” they said in unison.

  Single-file they traipsed out of the kitchen. At the last minute, Tierra grabbed the scrying crystal, looped the chain over her neck, and tucked it under her sweater to rest between her breasts. She didn't take the map, and didn't question why she needed the crystal.

  They ventured out into the night, the sky clear with a large solstice moon silhouetting the landscape.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Let's ride,” Dru said, his sword in hand. “Gwen from the coven called. The witches are on the move.”

  “Finally,” Nick said. “Some action.” He jumped up and grabbed his bow and quiver full of arrows.

  “Where are they headed?” Julian asked, reaching for his trench coat and slipping it on.

  “West of town, in a place she referred to as the Siren's Cry. Apparently Port Townsend has Standing Stones.”

  “Of course it does,” Bane murmured. This place seemed as full of magic as the old country. Maybe even more.

  “Horses then?” Nick said with relish.

  “Yes, gather the horses.” Julian shared Nick's smile. Julian hadn't adjusted well to motorized transportation and loved it when their spirit horses were called into service.

  “We got a plan?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah, stop them,” Dru said.

  “Good plan.” Nick nodded. “I like it.”

  “Remember we need to stay focused,” Julian said, looking at Bane. “Humanity is at stake. We must do everything we can to stop the Apocalypsefrom happening. No matter what the cost.”

  It wasn't like they hadn't done this before. They didn't need a freaking pep talk. “Would you shut the fuck up?”

  “No need to be uncivilized, brother.”

  It wasn't lost on Bane that Julian left his gloves behind. Yeah, yeah, whatever. “There is nothing civilized about who we are,” Bane growled.

  “Enough bitching,” Nick said. “Let's do this thing.”

  Their horses waited for them outside, prancing and nickering to run. War's steed was a rich, red chestnut with hooves that pounded the ground with excitement. While Conquest's, Magnus Rex, gleamed white in the moonlight and stood at the ready to be commanded. Archimedes, Julian's stallion, absorbed all the light around him, black as the deepest darkest place of hell, with a devilish attitude to match.

  Death rode a pale horse.

  Bane had never named him in all these years. Having seen so much death and sorrow, he hadn't wanted to get attached.

  If he didn't care, there'd be no cause for grief.

  The horse looked at Bane as though he understood. He welcomed him with a whinny that sounded much the same as his purr when in motorcycle form. Patiently he waited for Bane to mount.

  Dru swung onto the back of his warhorse, brandishing his sword into the air. His horse arched up on his hind legs and led the charge.

  “Such a fucking showoff,” Nick said, as he reared his horse and spun Magnus in a tight circle before galloping off after Dru with a battle cry of his own.

  “Shall we, brother?” Julian regarded him with concern, holding back an impatient Archimedes.

  “This ends now,” Bane said, giving the horse his head.

  Tierra de Moray would no longer haunt him after tonight.

  ****

  “You weren't kidding about the stones being haunted,” Moira whispered. “I feel like I got ghosts usin' me for toilet paper.”

  “It's the mist,” Aerin breathed.

  “No, it isn't,” Tierra said. “There's someone in there.” Goose bumps rose on her skin as awareness of something—someone—made herself known.

  “She's right,” Claire said. “She's standing to the side of the tallest stone. Do you see her now?”

  “Uh…I think so,” Aerin said. “Holy Jesus.”

  “Uncle Sal told me never to talk to strangers,” Moira said. “'Specially ones that might be dead. We ain't goin' in there, are we?”

  “Yes, we are.” Tierra stepped through the Standing Stones, her breath catching at the power that tingled and caressed her skin. It was almost painful, in an over sensory type of way, as the Stones allowed her entrance.

  “Tierra!” Moira cautioned. “Well, shit. Here goes nothing.”

  “I can't believe I'm doing this,” Aerin muttered, following Moira into the circle.

  “Me, either,” Claire said. “But what the hell? You only live once.”

  “I don't want that once to end tonight,” Aerin said under her breath.

  The four of them stood abreast of each other as an apparition glided over the glistening, mist-painted wildflowers. She was dressed in shimmering veils, her hair long and black flowing around her in shadowy waves. Her eyes were a startling sapphire blue.

  “Hello, my lovely daughters.”

  “Daughters?” Moira whispered.

  “Listen to me, and heed my words.”

  “Wait,” Aerin started.

  Tierra grabbed her hand to silence her. “Shh, she isn't here. Now. She was when she left this message for us.” She didn't know how she knew this, but she did.

  Mirelle de Moray continued like an echo from the past that had lain dormant until the four of them had crossed over the threshold into the Standing Stone's shielded circle.

  “I believe that life is made of choices and not dictated by fate. You came from me and your father. Created by a great love. A love like that doesn't produce evil no matter what anyone else says or what was prophesied a millennia ago.

  “Know that you were wanted, that your father and I loved you all very much. We believe you will make the right choices. You are not the harbinger destined to bring about the end of the world. You come from a long line of powerful witches, and your father was one of the last Druids to walk the earth. The power is within you to destroy, but you don't have to choose to do so.

  “Study the Grimoire, learn from it, and whatever you do, don't open the Seals. Don't release the Horsemen—”

  “Oops,” Aerin said.

  “Love and treasure each other as your father and I treasured you.” Her eyes rested on each of them almost as if she really saw them in that moment and was not a missive from the past. A bittersweet smile appeared on her lips and she reached her hand out to them. “Blessed be, my daughters.”

  “No, don't go!” Tierra rushed forward, her hand outstretched to touch her, but she was gone.

  Only the mist remained.

  “No!” Tierra cried. She swiveled around the circle searching. Desperation and the need for a mother's embrace, for advice, choked her. She was alone but for her sisters.

  Her wild gaze settled on the women before her. They were her mirror images. Part of her, her blood, her family. Elements of her mother.

  “This isn't fair.” The ground trembled under her feet.

  “Tierra, this isn't the place to shake things up.” Aerin looked around them to th
e Standing Stones. “Let's relax, and we'll talk this through. Whatever that was.”

  “I don't want to talk. I want my mother.” Tears clogged her throat and flooded her eyes. “I'm going to be one, and I need her.”

  “You’ve got us, sugar,” Moira said, reaching for her.

  “No. Don't touch me.” Tierra stepped back and wrapped her arms around her middle. “I just have to—”

  She had to get herself under control. Everything was wrong. How they were taken from their mother, separated from each other, their mother killed all because of a goddamned prophecy?

  “Damn it, she's right!” Aerin said, her voice breaking. “This isn't fair. We never asked for this.” The air started to whip. “Since the moment I was born, I've had to fight for everything. Why do I need to battle some biblical Horsemen for my life?”

  “We've all had to fight,” Claire muttered, fire flaming in her eyes.

  “And for what?” Moira added, the mist getting heavier, sharper as Aerin's wind swirled. “To spend the rest of our lives lookin' over our shoulders for Death to steal our souls and deliver them to Hell? Well, he can't have mine.”

  “No, he can't,” Conquest said, riding forward into the stones on a white horse, an arrow notched in his bow. “Your soul belongs to me.” He let the arrow fly.

  Tierra reacted, didn't even think. The ground beneath them quaked in earnest, spooking the horse. He reared, causing the arrow to change its path.

  Pain punched into her, and Tierra stumbled back.

  Her sisters' screams spun around her in a dizzying vortex. Everything turned sluggish. Moira twisted toward Conquest and water rained down on him. Claire drew her weapons and shot at Dru while Aerin took her broom and twirled it, causing a wind tunnel that enveloped Julian.

  Slowly Tierra looked down at her chest and the arrow that protruded from her sternum. She opened her mouth to shout, to cry, but only air escaped—the sound a death rattle as it bubbled out of her. She couldn't breathe. Everything hurt and it felt as though she was drowning.

  Her knees buckled and she dropped to the ground. Crumbling backward, her hand covered her belly, and she silently conveyed an apology to her unborn baby.

 

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