Morgan's Wand

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by Lenore Wolfe


  She got up, agitated and walked around them. “You sisters fought back, and both of you were very strong. So, eventually, to control you, he had a witch brought into the castle to place a curse on the both of you—that you would always be apart—in lifetime after lifetime….”

  She stopped and looked at the sisters. “But in each lifetime, you have always found your way back to each other.” She smiled. “And in this time, you have managed to do so at such a young age. That is good.”

  She looked at the wand in Morgan’s hands.

  “Now, the wand has found its way to you, once more,” she said. “And you will need to use it to defeat the witch.”

  Morgan’s mouth fell open. “This isn’t a fairy tale….” she began.

  “What witch?” Claire asked.

  Morgan turned to stare at her sister. “Surely you don’t believe that story she just told you?”

  Turning, Claire stared at her sister. “Every word….”

  Morgan gazed at her, then turned to look at Chantel expectantly.

  Chantel’s hair seemed to move, as with an unseen wind when Alex stepped into the room, the twins right behind him. They stared at her, and Morgan turned to glance back at them, then at Chantel.

  The power she wielded could be felt, by all.

  “The Witch of the Everwood, of the Everwood Tree of the Fates, which grows within these mountains,” Chantel said, not without some dramatics.

  “Oh—rubbish,” Morgan spat.

  Her sister turned to stare at her, but Morgan didn’t take her eyes of the Dark Faery. She got up, walking toward her. “You show up with this wand and tell us this magnificent story,” she said, advancing on her. “And, now, you want us to believe, we’re to fight some Witch, of some Everwood, in some forest,” she pointed toward the woods—and stopped….

  She turned to stare at the Dark Faery.

  Chantel nodded. “But not ‘we’ dear,” she said. She reached up and touched the area over Morgan’s heart. “You….”

  Chapter Three

  Reckoning of the Heart

  Morgan ran her fingers over the uneven texture of the wand, caressing the wood like a lover. She stared out the window, not thinking about magick at all—but of Alex.

  What if she didn’t come back from this one?

  In the short time, they’d been battling enemies since they all returned to Ravenwood Manor, they fought some powerful enemies. But she’d never once thought she’d ever need to do so—alone. She didn’t even want to be doing this—living a life of magick—at all.

  Well, she thought, she did—and she didn’t.

  She didn’t really think she could stop—even if someone stepped down, now, and said that she could. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

  Well, she sort of did that too—like it—that is.

  She huffed. But when would they get a break from it—so she could even sort out how she felt? They hadn’t had time to think. They’d just been thrust into the thick of it—pretty much head first.

  She glanced up at Alex, who stood watching her.

  “I don’t like the idea of you going up against this witch—alone,” he said, echoing her thoughts. He did that a lot lately.

  She nodded. “Neither do I,” she admitted. “But, apparently, that’s what I have to do.” She gazed at him. “If I defeat her this time—I break the curse.” She set the wand into its velvet bed and closed the lid of the box, setting it back on the mantel. She turned, walking into Alex’s arms. “This is apparently who I am,” she said and sighed. “I’ve been fighting it, all this time, but I don’t think I can go on—if I keep trying to reject myself.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up into his dark eyes. “This isn’t just what I do,” she finally admitted. “This is what makes up all the pieces of who I am.” She closed her eyes, setting her head against his chest.

  He cradled her head to him, and she stood there, listening to the beating of his heart. She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost him. Apparently, every single time she’d been unable to defeat this witch—she’d been thrust into the darkness of her life—losing everyone she loved.

  She wouldn’t lose this time—she couldn’t. She couldn’t bear her life alone again. Maybe she’d had no other choice but to bear it, in every other lifetime, before this one, but she couldn’t go on—if she lost this time. She couldn’t live without the people she loved—ever again.

  She couldn’t lose. Not this time.

  “When will you go?’ he asked her.

  She let out a long breath. Finally, she opened her eyes. “Now,” she said.

  He shook his head.

  “At least, I have to go and see this Everwood Tree of the Fates,” she said. “I don’t know if I have to fight the witch yet, but I have to see this tree.”

  He stood there, looking down at her for the longest time. She thought he would protest. She thought he’d fight to keep her from going, but finally, he simply stepped back from her. “I will walk you to the edge of the forest then,” he said.

  Claire stepped into the room then. Hearing that, she glanced at her sister, Thorick coming up behind her. “Thorick will take you the rest of the way,” she said.

  She came forward, hugging Morgan tight. When she pulled back, there were tears shimmering in her eyes. “Come back to us this time,” she said.

  And all Morgan could do was nod.

  Chapter Four

  Running Wild

  Thorick left Morgan at the Everwood Tree of the Fates, deep within the forest. She stood there, wand in hand, waiting. But she didn’t have any idea why she waited.

  She stood there for more than an hour, when the Dark Faery came to her from within the purple mist, as before. “You are untrained,” Chantel said to her, “and very brave to come here.”

  Morgan frowned, her gaze narrowing. “You better not have lured me here,” she said.

  Chantel shook her head. “I have not,” she said. “But this is just the beginning. You will not fight the witch—at least not quite yet. You will need to come with me first.”

  Morgan shook her head. “No,” she said. “You wanted me to fight the Witch of the Everwood, and I have come.” Her gaze narrowed on the Dark Faery. “But I will not be lured anywhere else.”

  Chantel smiled at her. “You have come this far because of how brave you are,” she said. “But you will not defeat her on bravery alone.” She stepped forward, placing her hand over Morgan’s heart, as she had before. “Bravery will take you far,” she said. “But you need training, as well.” She turned, then glanced back at Morgan from over her shoulder. “Come,” she said. “You will need to go to the one who will teach you what you must know, to use the wand. Only, then, can you defeat the Witch of the Everwood.”

  Morgan glanced around. Apprehension filled her. But the Dark Faery was right. She’d have to take the chance—or she was dead either way. Realizing this, she also knew she had nothing more to lose. So she followed the Dark Faery across the veil.

  As soon as she stepped across, she found Mira, the Jaguar Witch, and one of the Sisters of Three, waiting for her on the other side. She rushed forward, hugging her.

  “Boy am I glad to see you,” she told her.

  Mira glanced at the Dark Faery. “She appears more than a bit spooked,” she admonished. “Did you scare her into coming here?”

  Chantel smiled. “She’s brave—and worthy of what she will learn here,” she said simply, and with the purple mist—she was gone.

  Mira turned, smiling at Morgan. “She’s right, you know,” she said. “You were brave to follow her here,” she grinned. “That one would not have made it easy for you.”

  Morgan shook her head in her relief. She smiled, but her smile trembled. “No,” she said. “She didn’t.”

  Grinning, Mira took her hand. “Come,” she said. “You’ve much to learn—and have little time to learn it.”

  As they walked, a dozen questions filled Morgan’s mind. She glanced down the
trail, then turned, looking at Mira.

  “Why all the mystery?” she said. “Why didn’t they just bring me to you?”

  Mira shrugged. “She’s the keeper of the wand,” she said simply.

  “Hmmm,” Morgan said. “Remind me to get a different keeper—if I lose this time.”

  Mira frowned at her. “You must not even think of losing,” she said.

  Frowning now, too, Morgan slowed, then stopped staring after her. “Is that my first lesson?”

  Laughing now, Mira turned back to look at her—then nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Maybe it is.”

  In the days that were to come, Morgan would find she had much to learn about the wand—and the witch she would face. By the end of the fifth day, Mira took Morgan to the cottage Shantra always provided them in the village, whenever they came to stay in the Land of the Fae. Morgan didn’t know why she’d brought her here, but she went inside to wait.

  When she opened the door, there stood Alex, near the window. As he turned to look at her—she couldn’t remember a more welcomed sight….

  Chapter Five

  His Loving Arms

  Morgan raced into Alex’s arms, aware this could be the very last time she ever saw him. Mira had provided this unexpected gift for her, and she couldn’t be more grateful for this tiny slip—of a moment in time. She would take this with her when she finally faced the Witch of the Everwood—who’d held a curse over her head, for more than a millennium.

  Alex pulled her up off the ground, holding her to him for a long moment, and she could feel his relief at finding her unharmed. She hadn’t appreciated how hard this was on him—until that moment. How difficult it must be for him, she thought, for a man who wants to protect his woman—to have to let her go and fight a battle he couldn’t begin to protect her from….

  How he must respect her destiny, not to fight her on such a thing.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she met his kiss. He deepened it, then picked her up, setting her on the bed, running his hands down her body, where they remained for much of the evening.

  The next morning, they walked one of the paths leading out of the village, while they talked. She told him about how Mira worked with her to become one with the wand.

  At one point, he squeezed her hand while he listened. “Does she have anything to say about the battle itself?” he asked her.

  Shaking her head, she turned, looking up at him. The sun reflected off the glint in his dark eyes. She knew he was worried. She reached up and gently touched his face, running a finger along his strong jaw. “Anything she says to me, besides how to do battle, in itself, could cause me to overthink it—and that could be a bad thing.” Touching his arm, she took her hand down and looked away. “She says only to trust my instincts.”

  He nodded, pulling her back to him. Lifting her hand to his, he kissed her fingers. “You have great instincts,” he told her. “Look at who you picked to walk beside you in this life.”

  She grinned, then stood up on her tippy-toes to plant a sweet kiss on his full lips. “I love you, Alex Parker,” she said.

  His head jerked up as his eyes searched hers. She’d never said that to him before. She could see how much her words moved him, reflected in the deep, liquid pool of his gaze, as he pulled her close.

  “I love you, too,” he said to her.

  They finished walking the path around the village, hand-in-hand, and eventually returned to the little cottage. No matter how each of them would have liked to delay it, the time had come for them to part—and Morgan felt the weight of that deep within her chest. She didn’t want to say goodbye to him—not even for a little while—not ever.

  Tears shimmered in her eyes, as he gave her one last, poignant kiss. Then, he turned, and slowly released her hand and moved from her side. She sucked in her breath. The hardest thing she ever had to do—was watch him walk away….

  Chapter Six

  Land of the Fae

  Morgan glanced around at all those who’d become her family, here in the Land of the Fae. She missed Sophia. Not for the first time, she felt a pang, hoping the time would soon come when Sophia could return home.

  She winced at that. Now, she had to hope that she, too, would return home. Surprised, she stopped walking.

  When had Ravenwood Manor become so important, as to actually call it home? She couldn’t remember the last time she considered any place to be her home.

  She smiled, inwardly. She’d probably began to see it as home when she’d come to see all who lived there—and all who lived, here, in the Land of the Fae—as family—and not just her friends. They worked together to reach a common goal. They shared a common destiny. They were as much a part of their family as Claire.

  She stepped forward into the sunshine.

  She didn’t know what would happen when she went to face the Witch of the Everwood, but soon she would find out. Mira had told her that the time had come for her to return to the tree. She felt both apprehension, at this, and relief. At last, she would know what was to be her fate.

  Now, the time was here—and Mira led her to the edge of the Land of the Fae and lifted the veil, giving her instructions on how to return to the Everwood Tree of the Fates, where she was to meet her nemesis at long last.

  Morgan walked with her head up, and her shoulders back. She had the beautiful wand, held firmly within her grasp, holding it with firm determination in her right hand. Before Mira closed the veil between their worlds, Morgan turned and gave her a warm hug.

  “Thank you so much,” she whispered near her ear.

  There were tears in Mira’s eyes as she squeezed her hand and let her go. Morgan turned away before she broke down in tears, as well, and she stepped through the veil. Turning, she saw Mira wave before the mist enshrouded her.

  Morgan turned to face the forest. She let her head fall back, tilting her face to the sun before looking around. Her gaze sharpened, as she took in the wooded area around her. The sun dappled the ground, peeking through the lush green leaves above.

  Suddenly, she didn’t feel so alone—and she realized that she’d never been. There were Faery friends all around her, watching over the forest. They were the souls of every living thing.

  Morgan smiled and headed down the trail she'd need to return to the Everwood Tree of the Fates.

  Chapter Seven

  Out of the Past

  Morgan stepped forward to face her fate. The time had come to break the curse—to stop the witch, who’d ended her happiness in every other lifetime before this one. Defeat couldn’t be allowed to be part of her thinking. She wouldn’t lose. Couldn’t lose. To do so meant she’d lose everyone she loved—again.

  She couldn’t bear that if she did. She wouldn’t think of defeat.

  The Dark Faery awaited her when she reached the Everwood of Tree of the Fates. She shimmered forward to her in her purple mist, as Morgan approached.

  “So, you think you are ready,” she said in a harsh voice. “You go and train a little with the Jaguar Witch—and suddenly you can take on the Witch of the Everwood.”

  Morgan hesitated, coming to a halt. Whatever she expected from the Dark Faery, this wasn’t it.

  “This is my destiny,” she said boldly. “I will meet it with all my heart and soul.”

  The Dark Faery’s gaze narrowed on her face, as she surveyed her face. “You will meet your death, at best,” she hissed. “Or you will live your life in torment, yet again, at the worst,” she said.

  Morgan felt a pang of fear at her words, but she squared her shoulders in renewed determination. “Either way,” she said, “I won’t go down easily—and I won’t go down without a fight.” She stepped forward with a steely resolve. “If I must live alone again, so be it,” she said. “But she will not do this, easily. She will have to work for it.”

  The Dark Faery shimmered, her long, black hair with large white streaks billowed around her with an unseen wind. Odd, that, Morgan thought, since she felt no wind upon her skin.
>
  Finally, the Dark Faery nodded. “Upon this day, two shall meet, but only one will know her fate.”

  Morgan frowned. “What does that mean?” she asked. But the Dark Faery shimmered out in the purple mist. Morgan looked around, raising her wand in anticipation. The time was here. She could feel it pulsing through her.

  The air shimmered around her. The landscape, itself, seemed to bow and spread out before her, then a vicious looking woman in a long, red velvet cloak and slick, black satin pants stood before her, holding a large staff, crowned with a magnificent crystal.

  Morgan felt her mouth go slack as the woman tilted back her head, her fiery curls flaming around her as she laughed.

  “You,” she said. “Why, you’re still only a child.” She sneered. “At least, when you chose to meet me in your other lifetimes, you came ready to fight.” Her lip curled, and she walked around Morgan. “You’re no more than a babe to magick now.” She tilted her staff. “Hardly worth the effort.”

  Morgan flinched, but she still had the presence of mind to focus inwardly, feeling the heat of her wand as she called down the power. The force of it slammed through her body—but the witch was ready for her. Her retaliation was swift as she shot forth a beam that picked Morgan up and slammed her against the tree behind her.

  She felt, rather than saw, Thorick move from somewhere to her right. He picked her up—and then she knew no more.

  Chapter Eight

  Witch of the Everwood

  When Morgan tried to open her eyes, pain shot through her temples. She heard Shantra, Sophia’s Faery mother, whisper near her ear, warning her to take it slow. She had to try several more times before she managed to peer through her half-closed lids. Even then, she saw only the blurry forms of people standing her around her, but she still couldn’t make out exactly who they were.

 

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