Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3

by Marsha A. Moore

  “It is of fae magic.” She reached for Esme’s hand, but her eyes lowered behind thick lashes, and her voice hushed. “Perhaps you can. I do not know any more than Cryptic.” Halcyon rose.

  Esme stood and tested her newly healed thigh muscles, which contracted without complaint. She forced a smile. “Good as new.”

  Halcyon brushed Esme’s shoulder. “May you find your answers.”

  The women struggled to move through the dense silence to the door. From previous experiences, Esme recognized the same extreme thickness of the air when a client’s ailments couldn’t be treated as Gram’s heart intended.

  When the two faeries stood on the porch, Esme swallowed against tightness inside her throat with a question that raised new, raw pain that couldn’t be ignored. “Why didn’t Thayne come with you?”

  The pair looked toward the hedge at nothing Esme could see, as if they avoided her gaze.

  Esme reached for the Halcyon’s arm, but she stepped from the porch. Esme entreated, “Please. Do you know something?”

  “Said he had no reason to,” Cryptic croaked, then lumbered after the healer. The empty message swelled Esme’s throat and even her breath hurt.

  The fae women faded to invisible as they walked toward the hedge. Esme could no longer see the guards along the boundaries. Had they left? Was she unprotected? Her heart sped. No, he gave his word. His court gave their word to Grammy, and Esme took comfort in that.

  But there wasn’t. She felt alone. And lost. Was she fae or witch or both? She’d expected the faery wise woman to be able to tell her more, or at least give some guidance. Grammy’s journals answered nothing. Only that one story about the young man who planted the holly bushes seemed like a viable clue.

  Esme darted inside, picked up the phone, and dialed her mother. Her only hope. After several rings the answering machine engaged. “Mom, please pick up if you’re there.” Esme held her breath, then burst out, “I need to know about Dad’s magic. Call me. Love you.”

  She hung up and stood before Gram’s altar. Arms raised, she felt prickles of power surging through her. Power she’d not learned how to use. What kind was it? Fae or witch? And if fae, what if it was a dangerous type she couldn’t control? She clamped her arms to her sides and stepped away.

  Esme paced between hearth room and kitchen. Her face burned and a loud pulse beat against her eardrums. She stared at the phone, willed it to ring. Several passes later she snatched it and dialed Mom again. A loud click caused her heart to skip a beat. “Mom? Are you there? Mom?”

  Another click disconnected.

  Esme pleaded into the dead receiver. “Mom? Why?” She glared at it in disbelief. She knew Mom would never talk about Dad, but couldn’t she hear Esme’s desperation? Her fingers tightened around the receiver. Her arm ached to throw it across the room.

  Dove let out a piercing cry.

  Esme flinched and dropped the phone. Unable to contain her frustration inside the small cabin, she threw on a coat, and raced outside, Dove on her heels.

  The cold air cooled Esme’s aching throat. She gulped it down. Icy air crystallized each problem, but didn’t show how they connected. How could she get her mother to help her? She needed Mom’s support. She’d lost Gram, and now her mother as well. Without them, Esme’s fears swarmed.

  And she’d lost Thayne. That felt like a knife in her gut. She needed him, but she didn’t know why.

  Her alarming magical power pressed against her bones and muscles, against the inside of her skin as if it would erupt at any moment. She clutched her arms across her chest to hold the magic in, afraid what might happen if it came out. Soon her limbs ached with the pressure. The magic wanted out. Could she keep control? She swung her arms, hoping to relieve the stress.

  She jogged to the trailhead and into the woods. Alone, afraid, and without direction, she ran faster and faster. Maybe she could leave whatever it was inside her behind. Her breath grew shallow, her mind numb on a runner’s high. Encouraged and desperate, she ran faster. Gasping for air, blocking out the problems, the pressure, everything.

  Chapter Fifteen: Labyrinth

  Thayne swirled his mug of dark roast root as he sat alone at his table in the dining cavern. At midmorning only the cooks were present. They prepared egg and potato casserole for the onslaught at breakfast upon sundown and began to simmer rich stews for the main midnight meal. Thankfully, those workers tended to be old matrons who posed no threat to Thayne’s need for silent contemplation.

  At intervals, one of the plump women scooted out to top off his cup and politely reminded him they’d be glad to serve him whatever food he wished.

  He thanked them, but had no appetite. He’d intended to accompany his best healer and sibyl to visit Esmeralda. After what happened yesterday, he couldn’t bring himself to go along.

  Esmeralda’s alarmed reaction to his kiss controlled his thoughts. Her expression had conveyed so much mistrust and anger, even more frightening than his images of her as a wild boar in nightmares. What foul magic lay in her talisman to cause her to act that way?

  He’d laid open his deepest personal emotions, something he did sparingly as a king-in- training, and not at all since his appointment. The horror in her face pummeled him to the ground. Had he been awkward displaying his feelings and triggered her negative response? The denial of personal feelings left many regents inept and was the reason so many marriages were arranged, like when his sister was given to be the bride of a Summer Court lord in the desert, whom she barely knew.

  Thayne tried to dismiss the rejection, reminding himself that fate had cast him a good hand. If that black amber held dangerous magic, possessing it might sway him in a direction unfavorable for his court, turning him into a wrathful power-monger. He clenched a fist. That was only a weak and convenient excuse. As king he should be brave enough to step up to that challenge. And regardless of his abilities, he’d gladly put himself at risk to spare Esmeralda the turmoil she struggled against.

  Perhaps, being a mortal, she was too different from him and the sensations of their kiss frightened her? He’d embraced her with the hope she was part fae, and of a compatible sort. He sipped his brew. No, another lie. When he kissed her, he didn’t think of anything so far-reaching that would support the safety of his court. He couldn’t deny how the gleam of her long dark curls and full lips pulled him in. And her determined spirit as well. The softness of her body in his arms, the way she pressed against him, and the tiniest murmured moan against his lips that spoke to him of her desires and dreams.

  Why had the moment gone so wrong? He cycled through these possible reasons without discovering anything other than he truly cared for Esmeralda. He wanted her with him, something only possible if she gave up the talisman or if he could help her learn to contain her powers.

  When Halcyon and Cryptic arrived in the dining area, he dropped his brooding and stood to wave them to his table, hopeful for good news. “Were you able to help her?” he asked before the two faeries even had time to bow. Out of respect for their advanced wisdom, he waited for them to position their food trays and sit before he retook his seat.

  The healer gave a slight smile. “I was able to completely mend the poisonous autumn fae bites. She will suffer no lasting effects.”

  “Good.” Thayne nodded and addressed the older woman. “And what caused the icicles to be corrupted?”

  She met his gaze slowly and with a tortured expression, as if she would avoid doing so were it not expected decorum while conversing with a regent. She passed an additional cloud layer before her eyes, no doubt an effort to hide her feelings. “The corruption was of her own makin’. Both fae and witch powers dwelt at her altar, through items she chose as conduits.”

  He studied the sibyl. “That is not a surprise. We had the property well-guarded, so I didn’t suspect outsiders were the cause. And what about her powers? Could you discern whether she used witchcraft or fae ability?”

  “The woman owns a strange magic I’ve not seen bu
t a few rare times. Tendencies of both fae and witch. So tight woven, so strong, as if one fights to win over the other. I can’t tell what sort the fae tendency harkens to.”

  He steepled his fingers, the garnet rings glittering in the lantern light, and asked a dreaded question. “Is Esmeralda possessing winter fae magic, since some say she brought winter early?”

  Cryptic smirked. “With all that evil in her?”

  Thayne glanced at Halcyon, who squirmed in her seat. He asked, “How can we learn which fae power fights her witch force?”

  Cryptic’s flat lips puckered, and she struggled to keep eye contact. “My King, nothin’ more I can do. She must learn who and what she is by lettin’ her magic surface, as was true with the other waywards I’ve seen.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Esmeralda that?” Halcyon faced the sibyl with searching eyes. “So she might handle the newness better.”

  The sibyl grunted and gave a sly smile. “’Cause I don’t like mortals.”

  He slapped a hand on the table and leaned closer, holding Cryptic on task by the strength of the magic in his regent’s stare. “You will fully serve my orders to keep this court safe. Once her powers become visible, what then? What can you do to help…to protect our court from her magic?”

  Under the intense force flowing from his gaze, she trembled slightly, her voice barely audible. “My King, I…I don’t know. I’ll read up on it in the elders’ writings.”

  “I want you to make that your primary task, delegating all routine chores to the other seers.” He cast his eyes to Halcyon, and the sibyl dropped into an exhausted slouch.

  The pert healer met his stare without difficulty. “My King?”

  “You will work alongside the sibyl to determine any physical support that Esmeralda might need as a consequence of Cryptic’s doings.”

  She gave a sharp nod. “Yes, my King.”

  He sat back. “What was her demeanor? Her reaction to these findings?”

  “She was clearly upset as we left.” The healer gestured to her co-worker. “I considered returning to supply her with a calming potion, but Cryptic said the girl needed to meet her magic’s darkness square.”

  Thayne shook his head. “In that case, both of you need to pay regular visits to Holly Cabin to check on her.” He gathered his mug, rose, and leaned close. “And take guards with you.”

  Rather than hope, the pair’s findings brought Thayne more concerns…and fewer choices. He’d contacted Esmeralda’s blood while stabilizing her bite wounds. From that he could identify and track the sounds of her emotions to determine her status. Her murmur during their kiss had let him peek at the dreams he wanted to be part of. He shuddered, thinking of what agony her tortured cries would convey to him as her wayward powers continued to surge.

  Thayne strode into the central gathering area and motioned for Captain Shade to join him. Without a word exchanged, they bounded up the Grand Ravine’s wall, and two king’s sentries fell in behind.

  Progress through the woods was slowed by a whipping wind that slapped tree trunks. Thayne circled the ravine, pausing and listening. When he thought he identified faint notes of Esmeralda’s song, a limb crashed ahead and negated his reading. “Damn!” Delusion and melancholy imbued her song. She was far from Holly Cabin. His senses burned with needles of white-hot ice. He rushed past the obstacle and caught a single familiar note. Standing completely still, he fully enlivened his tracking sense with frost. Three more quiet notes vibrated off a distant chestnut tree with the melody he hoped for. The desperate cry of her cat confirmed his reading. He sprang after the noise, running the distance of a couple miles well ahead of his staff.

  At the distant edge of the Winter Court forest, which was blanketed with fresh snow, Esmeralda leaned against an old chestnut. Her cat hissed at Thayne. Esmeralda’s eyes stared blankly, and she didn’t seem to recognize him. Hair stuck to her face, wet with sweat, and her chest heaved.

  “Esmeralda? Are you all right? It’s me, Thayne.”

  Her head snapped toward him, but still no recognition showed. She tilted her head back and rambled, “Who are you? I smell courage and fear. Why? Why are you afraid? I’m afraid. I don’t know who I am…what I am. Can you tell me? No one knows. I may never know. Shouldn’t want to know. Need to run from what I am…too dangerous.” Underlying tremors filled her words with suffering that stabbed Thayne.

  The guards appeared and Thayne held up a hand to keep them back.

  She detected him using heightened smell, a sense common among fae. But laced with that wild witch’s energy, her sense of smell was unpredictable.

  He applied glamour to cover his emotions, all except caring and acceptance, and moved forward in a slow, steady pace.

  Her witch’s amber cast a purple glow. “Courage left. Fear’s gone. Who are you? I don’t know you.” She writhed against the tree.

  If he could only get hold of her hand. Only twenty feet.

  She lurched away from the trunk, crouched and ready to run. “I’ve never met you. No man—”

  He froze and shifted his glamour to mimic the exact kindness he remembered from Grammy Flora.

  Esmeralda’s eyes sparked with purple light echoing from the black crystal, and a smile spread across her face. “Grammy?” Her voice softened. She held out her arms and walked to Thayne.

  He gently took her hand and led her from the woods to a snow-covered meadow. The heat from her skin steamed against his cooler touch. With his free hand, he summoned the snow into eight-foot drifts crisscrossing the field to form a meandering maze of paths. The Field of Insight and meditation had served as a training tool for many Winter Court guards. Thayne used it when he needed to pinpoint his own purpose under his father’s tutelage. He appealed to the force of winter within for the field to allow Esmeralda to know her powers sooner and suffer less. He swallowed hard. If not, they’d be making a speedy trip to Halcyon and Cryptic. He hated to let Esmeralda travel the maze without him beside her, but it was the only way.

  “Esmeralda, in order to know who you are, you must journey through this labyrinth. I will stay nearby to make sure you’re safe. I’m going to let go now, and you’ll walk ahead. We’ll still be able to talk. Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, Grammy. I hear you fine.” With her eyes staring blankly, she stepped forward.

  He led her to the entry and placed her hands on the mounded white wall.

  The warmth from her body formed a glare of ice that shone like a mirror. She flinched and reached out to the hazy image of herself that glowed with a purple aura extending from the talisman.

  Itchy fern frost crept along Thayne’s arms and neck. He held his breath, hoping the image wouldn’t frighten her. “Follow the wall and keep moving,” he encouraged in a soft voice, while he motioned for Shade and the guards to spread around the perimeter. Once she felt her way forward, Thayne took on an invisible glamour and lessened his emotional resemblance to Grammy so he seemed farther away. He stirred a wind and jumped with its force onto the drift that formed the walls of the maze. From that high vantage, he followed Esmeralda to keep her safe and hopefully learn what plagued her.

  On the ground, she ambled along the snowy walls, turning them to mirrors of ice, seemingly entranced by her own likeness.

  “Keep going through the maze,” Thayne urged, trying his best to float his feet lightly and not let his boots crunch against the packed snow.

  Esmeralda responded and moved hand over hand and foot over foot until she reached the heart of the labyrinth. There she paused and the snow bank illuminated vivid purple. “Grammy, I see Daddy! He’s here with me.”

  Thayne crept as close as he dared.

  An image of a man with the same coloring as Esmeralda appeared. He took her into his arms, and she stepped onto the tops of his boots. The man danced her in a circle and sang a haunting tune, though joy and hope filled his voice. “In your heart’s dreams, we’ll meet again, my little one. I’ll come to you out of long ago, for little girl kisses soft
as snowflakes.”

  She danced and laughed. In her laughter Thayne read pure love from her heart. The transparency and clarity of her voice brought a profound deepening of awe at the strength of her love.

  The man’s purple light cradled hers.

  After a few minutes he ended their dance. “Esmeralda, my little one, you must learn from my mistakes. Like me, you’re a wayward with both fae and witch powers. You must give up one. Only then will you be whole and safe from the madness that killed me. Promise me you will.”

  “If I do, will we still be able to dance?” she asked.

  “No. That must end. Promise me.”

  “No!” she let out a scream pierced with agony and fell back against the far drift.

  The man vanished. The talisman’s glow muted to black.

  Chapter Sixteen: Lavender’s False Peace

  “Esmeralda!” Thayne vaulted over a wall of snow into the center of the labyrinth. Her scream had exploded with desperation and real physical pain. “Esmeralda, are you all right?”

  She lay against the icy ground, twitching and groaning.

  He knelt beside her and took her hand.

  Her eyes fluttered open and locked on him. “Daddy?”

  “Esmeralda, it’s me, Thayne.” Unsure how to help, his first response was to warm her. He massaged her cold fingers, willing any possible heat of his own to pass to her, but tremulous hoarfrost spiked along his skin. He let go, afraid his winter magic would only cause more harm.

  Whether alarmed by the coldness of his touch or some delusions brought by her own surfacing magic, she flinched free and scooted backward.

  He kept a distance to not threaten her. “Are you hurt? It’s Thayne.”

  His guards entered the circle, and Thayne raised a palm to still them.

  “Thayne? The Winter King?” Esmeralda blinked her eyes.