by Sarah Hegger
Cast In Stone
A Cré-Witch Chronicles Prequel
Sarah Hegger
Dedication
To Cynthia St-Aubin,
For so many reasons, but also for sharing with me
the beauty and wisdom of Druidry.
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 Sarah Hegger
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Format and cover design by: Renee Rocco
First Electronic Edition: October 2019
ISBN: 978-1-7334057-2-0
ISBN: 978-1-7334057-3-7
Praise for Sarah Hegger
Drove All Night
“The classic romance plot is elevated to a modern-day, wholly accessible real-life fairy tale with an excellent mix of romantic elements and spicy sensuality.”
—Booklife Prize, Critic’s Report
Positively Pippa
“This is the type of romance that makes readers fall in love not just with characters, but with authors as well.”
—Kirkus Review (Starred Review)
“What begins as a simple second-chance romance quickly transforms into a beautiful, frank examination of love, family dynamics, and following one’s dreams. Hegger’s unflinching, candid portrayal of interpersonal and generational communication elevates the story to the sublime. Shunning clichés and contrived circumstances, she uses realistic, relatable situations to create a world that readers will want to visit time and again.”
—Publisher’s Weekly, Starred Review
“Hegger’s utterly delightful first Ghost Falls contemporary is what other romance novels want to grow up to be.”
—Publisher’s Weekly, Best Books of 2017
“The very talented Hegger kicks off an enjoyable new series set in the small Utah town of Ghost Falls. This charming and fun-filled book has everything from passion and humor to betrayal and revenge.”
—Jill M Smith, RT Books Reviews 2017 / Contemporary Love and Laughter Nominee
Becoming Bella
“Hegger excels at depicting familial relationships and friendships of all kinds, including purely platonic friendships between women and men. Tears, laughter, and a dollop of suspense make a memorable story that readers will want to revisit time and again.”
—Publisher’s Weekly, Starred Review
“…you have a terrific new romance that Hegger fans are going to love. Don’t miss out!” Jill M. Smith
—RT Book Reviews
Nobody’s Fool
“Hegger offers a breath of fresh air in the romance genre.”
—Terri Dukes, RT Book Reviews
Nobody’s Princess
“Hegger continues to live up to her rapidly growing reputation for breathing fresh air into the romance genre.”
—Terri Dukes, RT Book Reviews
“I have read the entire Willow Park Series. I have loved each of the books … Nobody’s Princess is my favorite of all time.”
—Harlequin Junkie, Top Pick
Contents
Cast In Stone
Dedication
Copyright
Praise for Sarah Hegger
Contents
Cast In Stone
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
The Cré-Witch Chronicles
Sarah Hegger
Books by Sarah Hegger
Cast In Stone
A Cré-Witch Chronicles Prequel
Sarah Hegger
SarahHegger.com
Chapter 1
England, 1645
Maeve entered the wood and waited. Waterlogged ferns tangled around her bare ankles, dampening the hem of her gown. Dense fog roiled through the trees and wrapped her in ghostly tendrils.
Deep silence blanketed the grove as cold seeped into her bones.
“Sister.” A wraith appeared between the slim, white trunks of the alder trees. “Blessed be.”
Pressing her palms together, Maeve inclined her head to her guide. “Blessed be.”
The guide’s gown brightened from brown to blue and then flared silver as her presence strengthened in the sacred grove. “It is good you came.”
As if Maeve had any choice in the matter. The dead summoned, and she came; that’s what she did. “The passed are disturbed.”
Dark shadows lurked beyond the alders, their coppery tang befouling the air.
“The spirits of the first stir. That’s what troubles them.” The woman turned and watched the shadows. They darkened and red flashes of magic flickered in their depths. “The lost one creates a shift in power. The first sense her quickening.”
“Is that why the grove is cold?” Maeve had never felt damp or cold in the grove before. She’d never seen the ever-present smudge of shadows loom as close either, and that smell…ugh!
Her guide nodded. “There is great peril ahead.”
“What sort of peril?” Maeve paid more attention to her guide.
“She grows in power.” The guide’s form started to fade. “Ready yourself, Sister.”
“Wait!” Maeve stepped toward the guide. “Ready myself for what?”
“Only one can bear the burden.”
“What burden?” Maeve yelled, but the dead witch had already melted back into the trees.
Mist dipped and swirled and crept into the space the guide had occupied.
“Bloody hell!” Why did the dead always have to be so sodding cryptic? Instead of yammering on about power shifts and stirring ancients, they could save everyone a lot of time and tell her exactly what the problem was. When would be useful, as well. But, no, that wasn’t their way.
A tree branch cracked and dropped soundlessly to the fern-choked floor. Where the branch had broken from the trunk, the alder’s wood went from white to red. Sap oozed down the bark from the fresh wound.
Ask and you shall receive, apparently.
The alder’s message was clear. Energies were out of balance and masculine energy was ascendant.
Beyond the alders, shadows swelled and flickered as if responding to the portent. Maeve shivered and dragged her gaze away. The embodiment of the lost one in the spirit realm, those shadows being so active meant more trouble than any living witch could handle.
Maeve released her hold on the spirit realm, and with a sucking whoosh, returned to her body momentarily disoriented. She blinked the present back into focus.
The present was exactly as she’d left it. The brazier from which she drew the power of her birth element, fire, was still burning, painting macabre shadows across sigils embedded in the cavern walls.
Here in the central cavern that guarded the Goddess Pool in its middle
, sigils made of crystal, fossil and shell were the most prolific. The coppery tang of the spirit shadows lingered in her mouth and Maeve looked to the dark stain on the far side of the pool. There, the first had severed the lost one’s connection with Goddess. The sigils bearing the lost one’s story had died, meaning Maeve couldn’t use them to walk into the witch’s life they represented. In the lost one’s case, not going near her was a good thing.
But she didn’t need to walk beyond to know the story. A long time ago, the most powerful of the first four, Rhiannon, had gotten the idea that she deserved to be Goddess. It had almost killed the remaining three to repel her and cast her from the coven.
Drawing her cloak around her, Maeve left the central cavern via the arched doorway leading into the cavern beyond. Sigils gleamed enough light to illuminate her path as it twisted through another arched doorway into another cavern. The twists and turns through the web of caves beneath Baile Castle were as familiar to her as the shape of her face.
She reached the entrance cavern and sigils chimed a soft goodbye.
Outside the caverns, night had fallen. The moon hung high above the lazily undulating dark ocean.
The lingering gloom of her spirit walk stayed with her. Given the lost one’s involvement in her walk, she had to tell her coven leader but dealing with the dead was complicated. Everything was auguries and portents of doom with them, and she had to sift through the theatrics for the truth.
As disturbing as her latest walk had been, it hadn’t given her anything certain. Something wicked was on its way, and it had to do with the lost one, who was getting stronger. All that added up to really, really bad news of the frustratingly vague sort.
Maeve didn’t dislike the coven leader, but Fiona was friends with Edana, also Fiona’s appointed second. A trip to Fiona inevitably meant a brush with Edana, and Maeve liked to hoard those for when she felt like taking a pot scourer to her pride.
The alder tree bothered her too. Ascendant male energy threatened war and violence. Not surprising, considering the way the Roundheads and Cavaliers were at each other throughout the country, but the alder’s message had been specific. The cré-witches were headed for a tangle with male energy.
Edana’s derision it was then. She left the caverns and climbed the cliff stairs. A stiff wind carried a hint of coming autumn, and it was a relief to step through the door at the top into the relative shelter of the walled bailey.
Dinner hour had come and gone during her spirit walk. As she opened the kitchen door, she was hit with a blast of savory, rich aromas, and her belly rumbled.
Cook entered from the pantries and stopped when she saw Maeve. Her smile of welcome was guarded. “Maeve.”
“Cook.” Maeve nodded. Any visit from her outside of normal business made her coven sisters nervous. “I missed dinner.”
“Dinner?” Cook’s reservation disappeared now that she knew Maeve wasn’t here to collect anyone’s spirit. “I have a nice ham joint left, and some cabbage if you fancy it.”
The cabbage, not so much, but Maeve did like ham. Cook added an apple and some bread to a plate and brought them to Maeve.
She ate quickly and put away her plate before heading off to tackle Edana.
The great hall was nearly empty, except for a table of novices laughing and gossiping. One of them noticed Maeve and nudged her friend. All chatter stopped and they watched her cross the hall and take the grand staircase to the upper levels.
“Who do you think she’s come for?” One of the novices whispered loud enough for Maeve to hear. “Do you think it’s one of the older witches?”
She almost gave in to the temptation to turn about and head their way. Silly girls liked to whisper lurid tales and scare themselves about her. Maybe they should give her the scythe and cape and be done with it.
At the top of the stairs, she took a right down an empty passage toward Fiona’s suite in the south tower. It was late, but Fiona was probably still awake. Maeve didn’t fancy waking her up, but the threat of the lost one couldn’t be ignored.
Light spilled from beneath Fiona’s door.
Maeve tapped and entered.
Edana was wrapped around a man, her hands in his hair, her mouth glued to his.
His hands were filled with Edana’s round bottom.
Face flaming, Maeve tried to back out, but the man raised his head and his gaze locked with hers.
Edana and Roderick? Maeve could hardly believe it. That was wrong, so wrong. Like a lion pairing up with a viper wrong. Roderick was a legend, the oldest and most powerful of the coimhdeacht, and Edana was…well…venomous. And also beautiful. As much as it galled Maeve to admit it, Edana was lovely and sensual. What man wouldn’t notice?
“Maeve.” Roderick tilted his head in greeting, not in the least embarrassed. His pale blue eyes almost dared her to say anything.
Still in his arms, Edana turned and scowled at her. “What do you want?”
“To see Fiona.” Let the bloodletting begin.
“What for?” Edana scorched her with a look from top to toe and back again that disdained everything it touched. “It’s too late for coven business.” She turned back to Roderick. “Now go away.”
If only she could. “I understand it’s late, but this is important.”
“Blast and hell, Maeve.” Edana whirled back and stamped her foot. “Go away.”
“I—”
“You’re a bloody ghost hugger.” Edana tossed her head. “What can a rabble of dead witches have to say that’s so important it won’t wait until morning?”
“That rabble of dead witches had plenty to say.” Maeve held her ground. Edana had been taking swipes at her since girlhood. “And what they said can’t wait until morning.”
“Maeve?” Roderick disentangled himself and sidestepped Edana. “What did they tell you?”
Edana cuddled up to his arm and pressed her breasts against him. “Ignore her. She’s like a cockroach. Eventually she scuttles back to her dark hole.”
The insult was bad enough, but Roderick’s look of pity made her wish for a dark hole to crawl into.
“Maeve?” Roderick studied her.
Roderick intimidated her. Edana was just a bitch, but one she was used to. “I wouldn’t bother you, but Fiona needs to know this.”
“You’re right about the first part. You shouldn’t bother me.” Edana motioned the door. She wrapped her arms around Roderick’s neck and smiled a slow, sensual invitation up at him. “I have much better things to do.”
Maeve would give both arms not to be standing there watching them.
Roderick shifted away from her and walked up to Maeve, sucking all the air out of the room as he drew closer. All young witches developed crushes on Roderick. He was so large, and handsome, and the tragic tale of his lost love was the stuff girlish fantasies were made of. It was a good thing they all grew out of those crushes. Maeve forced herself not to fidget, but there was nothing she could do about the slow spread of heat up her neck to her face.
“The passed told you something.” Roderick stopped two feet in front of her. He had this way of looking at someone as if they were the only being in existence. It felt a bit like standing directly in the sun. “And it disturbed you enough to bring you here.”
“It’s nothing definite.” Her mind emptied of thought and her body of air. “It’s bad. Very bad. And also some words. And the shadows. Also, the alder. The alder was the most specific.”
A gentle smile tilted Roderick’s mouth up. “Tell me about the alder. And this very bad thing.” A hint of laughter creased the corners of his eyes.
Maeve needed to pull herself together and get coherent. “The—”
“Roderick,” Edana whined. “Why are you bothering with her? She’s nothing.”
The laughter disappeared from his eyes and he frowned at Edana over his shoulder. “Sh
e’s the spirit walker, and there is only ever one in the coven at any time. You should accord her more respect.”
Edana gaped and then threw Maeve a murderous look, as if she was somehow responsible for Roderick’s rebuke.
Maeve smirked and wished she could claim the credit.
“You’re coven sisters.” Roderick extended the minatory look to her now. “And you need to be an example to the novices who are learning from you.”
That was the other thing about Roderick. He was bossy and commanding, which helped shake Maeve out of her moment of girlish admiration. “I was called by the spirits earlier this evening.” The sooner she delivered her message, the sooner she could leave. “My guide had a warning that the first are stirring and there’s great danger threatening us.”
Edana huffed. “Is that it? You barged in here about some vague warning.” She stared down her nose at Maeve. “And don’t you think if there was something to worry about the seers would have been up here before you?”
Edana was right, she really was, and Maeve hadn’t thought of the seers. If the lost one was moving, and coming as strongly as the spirit realm suggested, then surely the seers would have gathered portents. Still, she would bite her tongue before she admitted as much to Edana. “I’m not a seer. I can only tell you what I see in the spirit realm. Tonight, my guide told me the first were concerned about the lost one quickening. I saw for myself how she grows in strength beyond.”
“What does that mean to you?” Roderick kept his gaze on her, and Maeve empathized with how a doe must feel when a wolf had her on his menu.
“If she grows in strength beyond, then it could mean she grows in strength here.” Maeve spoke to Roderick. If she left her message with Edana, it would never get to Fiona. Roderick, however, could and would decide if it had to go to Fiona. “Beyond mirrors this realm.”
Roderick cocked his head. “Tell me about the alder?”
“A branch broke off and the wound bled.”
Roderick had been around since the first. He would understand tree lore.
“Gosh!” Edana rolled her eyes. “I’ll never sleep again.”