The rain stopped, and the sun dried up the wet ground in no time. I couldn’t believe how much I had let my emotions get the better of me. I had turned into the Wicked Witch of the West in two seconds flat. What was wrong with me?
When Alistair wrapped his arms around me, I hugged him tight. Then my body dropped to the ground. Sleep finally took me, whether I wanted it to or not.
***
The ground shook. The cot was hard under her hands at her sides. She opened her eyes. The canvas tent loomed overhead. Sounds started to take over her ears–moaning, crying, screaming. She closed her eyes to it.
Turning over onto her side, she braced herself for the pain that was sure to come. She had been struck by someone. Hard. Her head swayed before she fell. A ringing in her ears. Then, there was nothing as the side of her face landed with her hands on the cool grass.
No, she thought to herself. The ground wasn’t cool. It was coated in crimson. The sticky wetness was everywhere. Her friends surrounded her.
Her head went up with a jolt. Her eyes flung open. Where were they? Were they strewn out over their own cots? Had they been injured? “Please, no!” she cried aloud, but nobody reacted to her. Nobody looked her way.
She saw the bodies lying around her. Mothers crying over their children. Lovers holding hands next to each other. “This is all my fault,” she scolded herself.
***
I opened my eyes to an empty room. The sun had gone down. Somebody had carried me into my parents' room. I was tucked into a throw as a blanket. My shoes were neatly placed next to the bed. I heard voices coming from downstairs and decided to investigate. The soft steady voices murmured to one another, but I couldn’t make out the topic of their discussion.
“Look who’s not impervious to lack of sleep.” Matt was the first one to see me climb down the stairs.
“Yeah, I guess staying up for forty-eight hours is a no-no,” Clara added.
I didn’t say anything. After my outburst earlier that morning, I didn’t feel I had the right. I sunk down on the sofa between Chad and Peter, who seemed to be the ones deep in conversation with Barnaby and his wife. When Chester and Ophelia saw that I had awakened, they both went outside to let Alistair know.
“He’s been out there since you passed out.” Chad grabbed my hand to soothe me. Even without empathic powers, he always seemed to know when I needed his gift.
I had hoped since my grandfather agreed to come to the cabin, he would be able to help enlighten us on some of the things we were stuck on. Knowing his wife was the one born as a Crawford, and not him, was a bit disconcerting. I wished I could have gotten some information from the source. I figured he was sure to know something that could help. Why else would he have come?
“So, you say Xoras came to visit you?” Alistair wasted no time with getting down to business. He entered the house and sat in the big oversized arm chair. Hank plopped down at the side of the chair and seemed to fall asleep instantly.
“Is that his name?” Chester asked my grandfather.
“Yes, that is his name. He’s never spoken of. That’s probably why you’ve never heard of him before. It was said he did unspeakable things to Silas’s daughter, Aryanna, when she was very young. For a while, we had all thought Xoras was killed by his brother.”
“It was that bad? What did he do?” I asked, not knowing if I really wanted to know.
“Nobody really knows. The child hasn’t spoken since the incident, and Silas isn’t telling either. I doubt Xoras will confess to anything.” Alistair absentmindedly stroked Hank over the arm of the chair. “Silas would not want anyone to know. I doubt anyone other than those three know about it at all.” I had to remember my grandfather spoke of Silas Sr., and not my father.
I didn’t even know my father had another sister. I looked over to Bellatrix, who had been clinging to Barnaby’s side since they entered into the discussion of her uncle. She didn’t look like she wanted to say anything about the incident either. Maybe she didn’t know, as grandfather had said. But what if she did?
Cinnabar put his hand on Bellatrix’s shoulder from where he stood behind her and his brother. I could see the Crawford’s were very loyal to their own; even the ones who married into the family. Barnaby brought her hand to his lips and kissed her. I could feel his love for her. Then, moving to my aunt, I shut it off. My senses curled back into my own body and left her and her private feelings private.
I looked back to Alistair, who had gone quiet. He looked about as tired as I felt, but I knew he was still not feeling well. “Are you feeling okay to do this?” I whispered to him as I crouched down to pet Hank behind the ear.
“Yes, I am,” he whispered back, and then loudly so everyone heard him, he said, “I was thankful for the invitation. I can feel her here. My Gwen.” I thought he looked on the verge of crying, but before I could examine him further, he shifted in his seat and started talking to Chester. “So, what do we need help with?”
“Well, it would be helpful if you had any stories about the Crawfords that you could share,” Chester told him.
“More importantly, the Crawfords before your wife,” Clara added.
“My wife shared a great deal about her family. They were very proud of where they came from,” Alistair started and then seemed to stop, stuck in thought.
“Grandfather, where did they come from?” I asked him.
“The first High Priestess. They called her the Immortal One,” he said, heavy in thought, and I gasped. “Seraphina Crawford. She was my Isabella’s mother.”
“If she was immortal, how was she a mother?” Clara snapped and then added, “Sir.”
“She was immortal first. She lost her way. She wanted very much for the witches of the world to be able to practice magic whenever they wanted, without fear of being burned at the stake. Her mother was lost that way. Her father did nothing to save her. So when her father died fighting a human war, she became the first witch to stand up for all witches. She was just thirteen at the time.”
“Thirteen? What made her stand up for them like that at such a young age?” I heard the sadness is Ophelia’s voice as she asked the question.
“Simple. She’d lost her parents, and the only family she had left was being threatened. She stopped a human town sheriff from taking a boy away from her,” he said to her.
“A boy? As in someone she was crushing on?” Matt asked from the back of the room. He was holding on to Crystal, who still looked beaten and broken. Peter slugged him in the shoulder.
“I don’t know. Isabella just knew her mother grew up with the boy and his sister. A…um, Magnus and Kristina Crain.”
“Crain?” Crystal and Clara asked in unison.
“Well, how do you like that? I guess we found the beginning of everyone’s story.” Alistair looked up at Chester. “I think I have a few of Seraphina’s journals at the house. I know Isabelle kept them after her mother passed on. You're welcome to them.”
“Journals?” I whispered to myself, but saw Alistair–with his clairvoyant mind–look up at me.
“I think you're right. Have you read them yet?” he asked me.
“No, I didn’t think it would be that easy.” I turned to him.
“What?” Everyone in the room said in a stagger.
“The books. Both of them. They took what she wrote in her journals, just as it had with mine,” I told the room.
Chapter Fifteen
Alistair said he would be staying so he could see his daughter again. He made a big deal about only needing the comfort of the big chair downstairs. Elyse looked like she knew what he was really thinking. To be honest, Clara didn’t much care anyway.
When the adults of the house started discussing the powers Seraphina had, Clara tuned them out. She couldn’t believe an immortal being could eventually become able to have children and die. Yes, she supposed she had to believe in the magical aspect of the fairytale since she, herself, was a witch with magic powers.
She hadn’t t
old anyone, but she had been born with more than the subtle powers to cast a spell. She sometimes had visions of what would happen before it did. It was never very clear until the blood rite ritual. Since then, her visions had begun to make more sense and the clarity of what they meant had gotten less jumbled.
She sat on the small front porch waiting for her best friend. She knew she’d be back. Not because a vision told her she would, but because a vision told her she would be there to help Elyse. Not that she knew what that was, or when. She just knew it meant Michelle would be back, and when she got there, she might feel a bit overwhelmed at all the new faces she’d have to meet.
As she waited, she could hear the door behind her open. She knew who it was before she even turned around. “Hello, mother.” Her tone was cool.
“Daughter dear. How has it been so far?” Adelle Blackwood stood behind her daughter. She knew her mother was incapable of such endearments as to inquire how Clara was doing. No, she was simply asking about the gathering of the coven. How they fared with their challenge. “So far, so good. Other than internal bickering, everything is quiet. No sight of Elle or Sabina.”
“Good. I expect you to take care. You seem to be the only one of your group that is not struggling with something else. They need to focus. Can you do something about that as well?” It wasn’t a question, Clara knew. She could tell by the tone in her mother’s voice that she intended Clara to take responsibility of the coven while her priestess was busy trying to help her parents.
“Yes, mother.” She gave her the usual automatic response.
“I know you think I’m hard on you. Had I known this was going to be your life when I had you, I would have insisted your father move us from this place. Then you wouldn’t have needed to entangle yourself with these people.” Adelle showed her true colors to her daughter, always.
To the rest of the school and community, Adelle Blackwood was the unadulterated symbol of motherly affection and community leader. To Clara, she was the stuck-up pretender. Clara had no idea if her father saw the woman for what she really was. She doubted any man would bond himself to a woman such as Adelle. Maybe there was another side of her that only he got to see.
To Clara, her father was the greatest man ever. She loved him as unconditionally as a child should love a parent, and vice versa. She had just understood at a very young age that her father was worthy of that kind of love. She also learned that her mother didn’t even care for it. As long as Adelle could pretend to love, she was happy. She was happy with the money, the big house; the nice car. Oh, and above all else, the status she received being married to such a rich, handsome surgeon.
“I just hope Elyse is able to do what needs to be done. I’d hate to see you waste your entire summer up here. Soon, you’ll be off to college. You need to have some fun before then.” She patted her daughter on her head and went back inside. Clara said a silent "thank you" as she saw the Jeep roll up behind the league of cars that lined the yard.
“Knew you’d be back. Next time you walk out on your sister though, you might want to let her know you’ll be back, so she doesn’t cause a thunder and lightning storm,” Clara said as Michelle gave her a shocked look.
“She can do that?” her friend asked.
“Yup, but to be fair, she wasn’t just worried about what you were thinking. She’s got a lot going on.” Clara stood and met her friend halfway, draping her arm around her shoulders. “How about I fill you in before we head inside? It’s a madhouse in there.”
“Yeah, that would probably help.” Michelle laughed and gave Clara a half-hug. “I see your mom’s car. So she’s here after all?”
“Yes, and of course, she expects me to keep my eyes open so everyone else can be sidetracked. I’m so tired of her playing the good wifey- and mother. I’m going to vomit on her eventually.” Clara made a vomit noise and retching motion and Michelle laughed.
“Good thing to know some things were real. It’s so hard to believe everything she’s kept from me all our lives. You too.” She pointed a finger at Clara.
“Moi had nothing to hide from you. Neither did Elyse. She didn’t find out until her birthday this year.”
“Really?” Michelle squeaked a little with the question.
“Really,” Clara reassured her. “So, those bad feelings you got going on about that, you can drop those.” Clara released Michelle when she realized they had wandered to the circle clearing again and sat down on the log. She watched as Michelle studied each of the items on the altar.
“So, you have magic powers and all that? Like her flames?” Michelle asked finally. She studied the tools, picking them up to take a closer look. Then she turned back to Clara after she put the chalice and athame back where she got them from.
“Yes, some of us have actual manifestations of magic. Some of us can just do spells. The guys can shift into other animals and humans.” Clara smacked the pinecones around her with a stray twig she found lying next to the log.
“Shift? Like werewolves?” Michelle looked terrified and Clara had to laugh.
“No, not like werewolves. You watch too much television.” She smacked the pinecone across the yard. “They can turn into wolves, but they won’t change you if they bite you. You have to be a witch for a bite to do anything.”
“Like what?” Clara could see the girl grimace at the thought of being bitten and turned to a wolf.
“A witch bitten by a preternatural will die. It just kills them,” Clara said matter-of-factly.
“Wow. That’s harsh.”
“Well, they were made to be protectors. So, it’s fitting.” Clara didn’t hear the rustle of leaves until the group was standing behind her. Then she could smell the pipe tobacco from the old man.
“Actually Clara, that’s not entirely true,” Alistair said to Clara, but looked at Michelle. “And who is this?”
“Hi.” Michelle bounced a little with her usual chipper enthusiasm. “I’m Michelle.”
“She’s my sister,” Clara heard Elyse announce to everyone.
“What’s not true?” Clara interrupted. Alistair seemed to consider his options at that moment, but it looked as if Clara had won because he started telling them all about the preternaturals.
“You were wrong about the preternaturals being created as protectors,” he said finally, still looking at Michelle.
Nobody moved. They all kind of bunched up behind Elyse and the old man. Clara saw Peter, Matt, and Crystal bringing up the rear of the group. Chad was holding on to Elyse, as usual. Between the caboose and the old man was the dog he brought along, and his kids. She was happy to see her father was alone for the moment. Maybe her mother had finally left. She hated the woods and bugs. She probably had a fundraiser to attend.
“So, who are you?” Clara spun back and looked at Michelle as she questioned Alistair, staring down the whole group of new adults.
“Well...” The old man looked at Elyse and back to Michelle. Before he was able to finish his sentence, there was a cracking sound off in the distance, and then the loud fall of a tree.
“Elyse?” Chad asked her.
“Wasn’t me.” Clara saw the shock in her eyes, and then it registered.
“Sabina!” Clara said to her friends.
Chapter Sixteen
I couldn’t believe Clara. She had to say "Sabina" and send my nerves on edge. I couldn’t concentrate. I just stood there looking between the fragile old man that was my grandfather and the human girl that was my sister. How could I protect them from my crazy aunt?
Lucky for us, it wasn’t Sabina. Not that time. I managed to get myself under control with Chad’s help, and realized it was miles away from us. Then Ophelia said some developer was clearing out trees to put up a few houses on the lake, which was about ten miles away. I couldn’t believe how close it sounded. I also thanked my lucky stars that it was not my demented aunt.
To get away from the sounds of trees crashing, and effectively freaking me out, we all moved inside. As we s
at in the small room, I glared at Clara.
“Don’t look at me like that. It was a logical assumption,” Clara blurted before I could give her a piece of my mind to go along with the look. I had to admit, she had a point.
“Fine,” I told her, and then looked at my sister, who was more confused than if she’d been told the boogey man was about to attack. “You okay?”
“Yes. I don’t really know who that is.” Michelle looked confused more than anything.
“Well, she’s your sister’s crazy aunt.” Clara looked at Alistair. “Sorry.”
“No apologies. My daughter is lost to me,” the old man said with a shaky voice. It was just then I realized he was throwing off some serious nerves.
“Grandfather, are you okay?” I asked as Chester brought him to the armchair to get settled.
“Yes, I will be okay.” He sat down and again, the large beagle sunk to the floor beside him.
“Grandfather?” I heard Michelle ask quietly. “So what mom said was true? You really did meet your biological family.”
“Oh.” I had forgotten the introductions. “Yes, this is my birth mother’s father, Alistair Crawford.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Michelle offered.
Hank got up, wandered over to my sister, and began sniffing her tentatively. He sniffed around her in circles for a few minutes before he sneezed and sauntered back to Alistair’s feet.
“Hank likes you.” Chad laughed.
“He does,” Alistair agreed.
“Michelle.” I figured it would be easier if it was all done at the same time. So, I gave all of the story to her. “These are my uncles, Barnaby and Cinnabar. And this is Barnaby’s wife, Bellatrix.”
“Like the villain in-” Michelle stopped as Bellatrix looked at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that.”
“It’s okay. I’m just a little sensitive to the villain stereotype is all, not the series. That is one of my favorites.”
I saw Michelle’s shoulders relax and felt her nerves calm. She had really been afraid she had hurt my aunt’s feelings. That wasn’t something I would easily get used to. The old Michelle wouldn’t have stopped herself.
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