She opened her eyes.
Balance. She’d always seen Light as being the primary magic behind nature. At first glance, it always looked like Light dominated the natural world. She hadn’t been able to see it before, probably because she’d been fairly new at seeing and deciphering both sides of the magic, but it was clear now that it wasn’t just Light. Shadow was there, too. It was there in smaller amounts, of course, but it was there just the same, working alongside Light.
Which also explained why it was that a Shadow witch could so easily corrupt a natural area, just by his or her presence. The Shadow witch’s power would call to the Shadow power already there, strengthen it, and give it a little push, which was, it seemed, all Shadow needed to try to take the upper hand in the eternal battle between the two. Power wants power, etc. It was also basically how it worked when she’d taken Marshall’s power from him.
And when he’d replenished it by taking every last shred of magic from her Shadow coven members. Her stomach twisted and tears burned her eyes. She hadn’t known them. She’d found them creepy and more than a little unsettling. She hadn’t wanted them. And not only had she left them unprotected and open to Marshall’s vileness, but she’d given him the inspiration for how to end them and make himself stronger at the same time.
No matter what reassuring words anyone tried to give her, those were the facts. Their deaths were her fault. She didn’t kill them, but she’d as much as unwittingly handed them over on a platter to Marshall.
Stop. Focus.
Those who had families had come to claim the bodies. She’d looked them in the eyes, over the past few days, and promised, every single time that the one who had killed their loved one would pay. The only thing more depressing than looking into a face of a father or mother who had lost their child, was the plot of new graves in the woods on her property. The majority of her coven had had no one left to mourn them, except her. Their graves were marked, and the shifters had helped ensure that they were each given a proper burial.
It was the most she could do at the time, but now… she would honor their memories by destroying the one who had taken their lives.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to focus on Light and Shadow again, because, in the end, they held the answer to everything.
The relationship between Light and Shadow wasn’t always a battle, Sophie realized as she studied her surroundings more. Both were here, and both seemed to be necessary. Light magic twined around Shadow, as if Shadow provided the strength and Light provided the nurturing.
“Interesting.” Sophie took a deep breath and focused. As she had with Charlotte when she’d healed her, she called to the Shadow magic that was already there, urging it to do her bidding, to not destroy and kill, but to fill the trees nearby with its power, to make them strong, because if Shadow had a monopoly on nothing else, it was strength.
Eyes closed, she held her right hand up, moved her fingers in the same gestures she’d used since she first realized she could manipulate magic, when she was eleven years old. It was a gesture that came to her so naturally she didn’t need to think about it, an opening of the fingers, a gentle wave of her hand. She focused, not on the trees, but on the tangle of roots beneath her feet, the foundation for the trees above. The roots fairly pulsed with Shadow magic, and Sophie smiled a bit. He’d gone for the roots first, knowing that was the quickest way to ensure that Shadow death spread throughout the tree quickly. He’d essentially used the trees’ own systems against them; the roots drew water and nutrients up from the soil and into the rest of the tree. In this case, they’d brought death by Shadow magic with them as well.
She spent a long time, eyes closed, seeing and sensing the magic. She twisted it, turned it, manipulated it, hand raised in the air, fingers occasionally twitching, opening or closing as she worked.
She felt it the instant her work took hold. She smiled a little, raised her hand in the air as she directed the newly-manipulated magic up into the trees, into the trunks, the bare branches. She didn’t dare open her eyes, not wanting to risk having the magic fall apart on her before she was fairly certain she’d made some headway.
Her breaths were coming faster, sweat beading on her forehead and trickling between her breasts as she worked. Her stomach twisted almost painfully under the strain of trying to manipulate so much Shadow magic at the same time, and her head pounded, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
It felt different now, where she stood. Not like the rest of the forest, but not the almost filthy presence she’d felt when she’d first stepped into the desolation.
“Please,” she murmured. She opened her eyes, and then her knees gave out in relief and exhaustion as she looked up at the trees. A thick canopy of green leaves blotted out the blue sky beyond. Trunks grew straight and strong, and a few young trees seemed to have come up out of nowhere.
As she looked, she felt a presence nearby.
“You don’t have to keep following me everywhere,” she said quietly.
Esme stepped forward out of a thick group of trees she had been standing behind and sat next to her, looking up as well. “Yes, I do. I promised Luc’s grandson I would. If there’s one thing I have going for me, it’s that I’ve never broken a promise to Luc, and I don’t plan to break any promises to his descendants, either.” Sophie studied Esme, wondering what she thought of all this.
Esme’s mouth curled into a smile. “This is so fucking bizarre. You’re using it totally wrong.”
Sophie laughed. “Well, according to everyone who knew me, I used Light totally wrong, too.”
“Don’t let the teddy bear see you doing this,” Esme said after a moment.
“Why not?”
“Let’s put it this way: I’m fully heterosexual and I don’t even like you that much and I was ready to rip your clothes off for a second there. If he saw how you look when you do this…” she shook her head.
Sophie gave an awkward laugh. “Um. Really?”
“Let’s never speak of that little confession again. But yes. There’s always something attractive about a witch when she uses her power. It’s when we’re most alive, I think. Calder saw it when you were practicing with me. Like you’re more present, more alive, more vibrant. More yourself, maybe. And ultimately, isn’t that the truth? There’s nothing more attractive than someone who is wholly, comfortably herself.”
Sophie went back to looking up at the canopy of fluttering leaves. “I’ll keep that in mind. This was exhausting. I feel like I can barely move.”
“Well, you should try. I don’t really feel like sitting here all day. And before you argue: yes. I do need to be here. Where you go, I go, so don’t pull this shit again. If I’m asleep when you want to leave, wake me up.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Then consider it backup. Surely you’re not stupid enough to believe he won’t make a move on you soon. You know you shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“I wasn’t thinking,” Sophie answered quietly. “I woke up trying to work out how I’d even attempt something like this. And I’m still a little in shock that Merlin’s back. And the Shadow coven is always on my mind, in one way or another.”
Esme nodded. “If it’s any consolation, it looked like all except for Jayda died in their sleep.”
“I know. They didn’t suffer. They looked so peaceful, like they were still just sound asleep, when we found them.”
“Which brings us to the next thing I want to say to you,” Esme said, standing up and brushing herself off. Sophie stood with a wince, head swimming as dizziness and nausea washed over her. She closed her eyes as she steadied herself.
“What’s that?” Sophie asked, taking a deep breath.
“That piece of shit needs to die. None of this capture and lock him up bullshit you’re planning.”
“I don’t kill,” Sophie said, opening her eyes.
“Well, you need to fucking start,” Esme spat. “Do you really think he won’t get out again and star
t this bullshit all over again? I don’t care if he’s going to be mostly powerless — he was before, too. You think the shifters are enough to keep him imprisoned? And for how long? He’s over a thousand years old, and he’s merely entering middle age for someone as powerful as he is. Even with his power depleted, he’s going to live several hundred more years. This generation of shifters won’t forget how dangerous he is, but what about a generation or two down the line? Huh?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Sophie said, walking away from Esme.
“No. We need to cross it now. Because you won’t have a choice later. And you know the shifters will kill him if they find him first.”
Sophie didn’t answer. She knew Esme would have no end of derisive comments if Sophie explained to her that she was keeping tabs, that she planned on stopping the shifters before they killed him.
“I can’t tell them what to do. That’s Bryce’s job, and I’ve stepped on his toes enough, I think. But for myself, I won’t do it.”
“Idiot,” Esme hissed. “Don’t blame your lack of a backbone on some naive idea of purity or whatever bullshit it is you’re telling yourself.”
Sophie glared at her.
“Seriously, anyone who thinks you’re Migisi reborn has a screw loose. I hated that bitch, but she was never this wishy-washy. She wasn’t afraid. She was a horrible person, but she wasn’t a romantic, and she wasn’t stupid.”
“Good for her,” Sophie said, stalking away. The next blighted area was not too far from here, and she needed a little more fresh air before she attempted that again. Witchwalking would bring her there too quickly.
“It’s pathetic. Someone as strong as you is this afraid of everything. So willing to let others kill for you, because you want him dead as much as everyone else, but you don’t want to dirty your hands.”
“Shut up, Esme,” Sophie muttered.
“Maybe part of you likes it, that he’s been obsessed with you for your entire life. What is Sophie Turner without Marshall the evil warlock?”
“Shut. Up!”
“Make me,” Esme hissed.
Sophie turned and glared at Esme. “You’re insane.”
“Am I? Migisi would have fucking destroyed him if he’d ever dared show his face near her again, and he knew it. He stayed hidden. Watching, but knowing damn well it would be a fatal mistake to let her know he was nearby. You? He plays with you. He taunts you and manipulates you and kills those around you, and he knows he’ll live to see another day. If I’m lucky enough to get the chance, your Holiness, I’m going to kill him. He caused the death of the only person I’ve ever given a shit about. He caused generations of Luc’s descendants to suffer. If I get even a sliver of a chance, I’m taking it. Because when I say someone is the love of my life, they actually are. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to avenge Luc. My soul, my purity, is the last thing I’m worried about.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “That’s not strength. That’s obsession.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Esme muttered. “Go heal a tree or something.”
Sophie did, but now she was annoyed because it looked like she was only doing what Esme told her to do.
“I was already doing this,” she shot back at Esme, who was sitting on a fallen tree several feet away.
“I don’t care.”
A couple hours later, Sophie opened her eyes to find this section of forest healed the same way she’d healed the first one.
Two down, maybe a dozen or so to go. And that was assuming he wouldn’t cause more destruction.
She was kneeling on the ground. After a while, standing had become too tiring, along with trying to heal the forest. Now, she could barely do that, let alone stand. She was dizzy and nauseous. Exhausted.
Something struck the middle of her chest, and her eyes shot open, expecting an attack. When she looked down, there was an apple on the ground, and Sophie realized that was what had hit her. Esme was still sitting on the log several feet away, eating an apple of her own.
“Eat before you pass out. I’m not carrying your chubby ass back to your house,” Esme said, taking another large bite. “That’s enough of this for today, too. What if this is the day he comes at you, and you wore yourself out doing this?”
“Doing this makes everything else stronger,” Sophie said. She picked up the apple, wiped it off on her jeans, and took a bite. She didn’t know how to explain it, other than that she could just sense it. Her own power had flagged a bit since the forest had started suffering, and she wondered, not for the first time, about the connection between her magic and this place. She’d felt stronger the moment she’d first set foot on her family’s land after she’d returned and claimed Evie’s house. She could feel the change. The farther she got from her land, the less powerful she felt. So when Marshall destroyed parts of the forest that surrounded her land, she felt it.
“Why isn’t he attacking the forest on my land? Why just on shifter land?” Sophie asked aloud.
Esme shrugged. “Who cares?”
Sophie took another bite. She wondered if he knew about this connection between the health of the forest and her magic, or if this was nothing more than just another game for Marshall, a way to distract and frustrate. And it was definitely doing that, with the added benefit of making her magic a little weaker. She would have explained that to Esme, asked what she thought about it, but she wasn’t in any mood to talk to her more than she had to.
It nagged at her. Mostly, what nagged at Sophie was that she wondered if maybe Esme had a point. Was she being precious about this? Was she worried too much about her own conscience, and not enough about all of the lives Marshall had ruined? Because she knew, despite whatever Esme might believe, that she wasn’t keeping him alive for his own sake. In her heart, she wanted him gone for good. And she wanted him gone in a painful, tortured way.
But that felt wrong.
The question was, was there any place in all of this for questions of right and wrong anymore? Was this the point where she needed to do a bad thing in order to do good? She knew this was still her, holding on to the same beliefs she’d had as a Light witch, the belief that to take a life creates the kind of taint you never recover from, that causing pain adds to one’s own destruction.
Was it time to give that all up, to grow up and face reality?
Not if she had any hope of regaining the Light again. And Merlin was proof that she did.
No killing, she affirmed to herself as she stood up. No matter what Esme thought of her for it. No matter how badly she might want to destroy Marshall, she wouldn’t do it.
“Let’s go home,” Sophie said, tossing her apple core down. Some forest creature would eat it.
With a step, she was back in her house, and she went into her room and closed the door without another word for Esme. She needed to rest, and she needed to be alone.
Well, alone except for Calder.
She sensed for the pack, watched their energy moving west through the forest, and closed her eyes, determined that she’d just rest for a little while, and then go out and check in with Calder and the pack.
Chapter Twenty-One
Calder ran through the forest. He hadn’t been home in a few days, and he craved Sophie’s presence like he’d never craved anything in his life. The last night he’d spent at home with her, she’d been tired, on edge. She hadn’t said much about why, other than that Esme had acted like a jerk.
He shook off any guilt he was feeling. He knew Sophie wasn’t exactly comfortable with the older Shadow witch around. He knew Esme was abrasive and not the kindest person in the world. But he trusted her. It was instinct. She was kind of a jerk. But she was a jerk who kept her promises, and she hadn’t strayed from Sophie’s side.
As he ran toward home, his mind went back to Sophie. That last night, she’d seemed different. More. She’d smelled intoxicating, it and had only been her obvious exhaustion that had made him order her into bed, where he’d rubbed her back until she�
��d fallen into a deep sleep.
As her house… their house, now, he guessed… came into view, he hoped she’d be a little better rested today. He doubted that. He knew she was working tirelessly trying to find Marshall and trying to heal the forest. Almost all of the damage he’d done had been erased, thanks to Sophie’s efforts.
He caught a glimpse of the empty field that was all that was left of where his house had been. After the investigation, which had been ruled arson, of course, Jon had had what was left of it knocked down and the debris hauled away. Neither of them had mentioned building another house there. Calder had no intention of living anywhere but with Sophie, and she seemed to be of like mind on that issue.
It was a little unsettling, to think about the two of them living in the same house Luc and Migisi had lived in. The same house they’d built together, and, according to Migisi’s journals, had seen more than their share of heartbreak. It wouldn’t be that way for him and Sophie. He’d do whatever it took to make sure of that. And if killing a certain warlock was part of that….well. He was ready to do that, too.
More than ready.
When he reached the back door of the house, he shifted back and quickly pulled on the jeans and t-shirt he’d left on the back porch, then stepped inside. Esme was sitting at the kitchen table, looking disgusted.
“Oh, good. You’re home. You can deal with her.” She stood up, as if getting ready to leave.
“Where are you going? What’s wrong?” Calder asked.
“She finished cleaning up Marshall’s mess in the forest, but she overdid it like a stupid moron,” she said, raising her voice and calling toward the front of the house. Calder glared at her. “She’s tired, and she’s been puking her guts out since we got back. If I have to listen to that much more, I’m going to be sick. Have a nice night,” she added, and then, in the next instant, she was gone.
Light's Shadow (Copper Falls Book 3) Page 22