by Cate Corvin
“Yeah. We’ll go home when you have the energy to restore it.” I glanced up at Eric as we walked, eyeing the new lines around his eyes. “At least the library is done.”
“You never did tell me what it was you found in the Treatise,” I said lightly.
Eric had categorically refused to discuss any of it with me until I had ‘recuperated enough’, but considering his new campaign of overprotectiveness, that wasn’t likely to be anytime soon.
His gaze darkened and his arm tightened over mine. I felt the cloud sinking over us despite the sunshine.
“I already know it’s Rosalind.” I kept my voice quiet, determined not to turn this into a fight. “My own mother’s spirit tried to consume mine. She subsumed another spirit to possess a woman and lure me to my death. What else could I possibly hear that would hurt me more?”
Eric shook his head ever so slightly. “Vivienne Wolfe had suspicions about her,” I added. “We’re not the only ones-”
“Morena.” He pulled me closer to him as I stumbled, my knee clicking. I hadn’t stretched well enough today. “How much do we really know about the deadside? The living don’t belong there, that much is clear.”
He was right about that. We circled a pond, the surface as still and smooth as a mirror. He slowed to a halt as he gazed into it with rapt attention.
“It isn’t just Rosalind,” he said, as though to himself. “I knew she had secrets when we were young. I just didn’t know how far they went. The Treatise made it all clear to me how deep we’re in over our heads.”
He gazed at me bleakly, his eyes roaming over my face, settling on the purple-and-green crescent moon limning my eye. “Other entities live there, Mor. Entities we can’t possibly hope to fight. Whatever Rosalind did, she stirred one up, maybe made a pact with it… but it’s not entirely her spirit now. She’s something more.”
Goosebumps rose on my skin in spite of the heat.
“Not even you can hope to fight it,” he said. I thought of the darkness looming behind her, rushing like a tidal wave as Rosalind had moved towards me, her spindly arms searching, reaching- “And I won’t be able to go in after you. Rosalind had marked a few passages in that book, referring to one of these entities, Marzanna, as her ‘Maga Prima’.”
For a moment all of my happy memories of Mom disappeared, replaced with a bitter, burning hatred for the selfish woman Rosalind had been. What had she done? Was that why my father had the book in his study? Had he died needlessly?
“I think I saw her,” I said absently, trying to not think about my parents’ twisted corpses and failing.
Eric stiffened and I winced as he gripped me too tightly. “You saw it?”
“Loosen up,” I gasped. He realized he was squeezing my ribs and loosened his grip. I massaged my aching arm as I thought on it. “When I first saw Rosalind in the third mirror, on the stairs, it looked like a woman standing behind her. Impossibly tall, pitch black like a shadow… perhaps that was her, I don’t know, her manifestation? I can’t fathom what these things actually are.”
The idea that I had been so close to another entity, a creature nearly outside my comprehension, gave me nauseating chills. I’d truly stood no chance in the state I’d been in. It was a miracle I’d made it as far back as I had at all.
I’d always wondered who exactly walked in the mist outside the houses within Death. Were those entities as close as we could come to the gods? Did this Maga Prima prowl the fog, waiting for foolish witches to open the doors to her?
I’d come so close to finding out, as my mother had done before me.
“At least we know what that thing probably is.” I tried to project even the tiniest shred of confidence into my words. “That’s a solid starting point. We’ll probably have to treat with Vivienne for some of the more… arcane things, I guess…”
“We are not treating with anyone,” Eric said coolly. “We’re not chasing this thing. You think you’re invincible, Morena, and you’re not. You can die as easily as the rest of us. As easily as your parents.”
I suppressed a surge of white-hot rage. Nothing about their deaths had been easy, and he knew it.
“So what’s the answer? I never mirrorwalk again? I spend the rest of my life running an obsolete coven because I’m too afraid to look in shiny surfaces?”
He fell silent and we kept moving, walking mechanically around the pond and back into the park. Anger simmered beneath my skin, warming me once more. It was a welcome respite from the omnipresent chill I seemed to feel.
“I can’t pretend to be anything other than what I am. I can’t ignore my magic for the rest of my life out of fear. But if we make peace with other covens- namely Fellwolfe- I do stand a chance. At the very least I can lay Rosalind to rest again.”
We both knew he had no choice but to eventually agree with me. She would haunt me forever if I didn’t give her spirit peace.
It was the same song and same dance, played over and over, servitor to witch. Be cautious. Be wary. But both of us would be eaten alive by guilt if we didn’t lay the spirits of my family to rest. And for that to happen, I needed Adrian to teach me everything he knew.
We walked in silence for a long time. I gave him the time he needed to think it over and cast aside the judgment clouding his views. What had Joss told him while I’d been asleep? That I’d been a touch more than friendly with Adrian Wolfe in front of all the covens? That he’d come and saved my life when Eric couldn’t?
It would explain a lot of the overprotectiveness, and the sense of malice I got from Eric when the Wolfe clan was mentioned.
Eric had double the competition now, and I had every intention of making sure he knew he was in the running, if he wanted me.
“We stay away from the Wolfe coven,” he said decisively, confirming my theory. “The Thornes have been the coven’s closest allies for decades. The Blacks might be a possibility yet.”
I sighed, resisting the urge to say something rude about the twins. True, we might need them, and Eric and I needed to be a united coven or I’d fail, possibly ending my reign with a very gruesome death. “Fine. But I’m not discounting the Wolfes. They know things no one else does- things I will probably need to know. The kind of stuff that most covens don’t attempt.”
“For good reason,” Eric snapped, but I brushed it aside.
“Whether it’s for a good reason or not, it doesn’t change the fact that we’re up against an enemy that we have no idea how to fight. I have to be better than what I am now.”
I was already raring to be at full health again and stop hobbling along like a crippled old woman. The sooner I had my strength, the sooner I’d be able to meet with Adrian. The prospect of lessons in the art of mirrorwalking from a true master was almost torturous to ponder while I was still recovering.
I didn’t skimp on following the mortal doctor’s advice, but I already had plans to visit a hedgewitch and see what she might be able to conjure up for me.
I didn’t need to ask Eric to know that he would say no immediately. Supplemental healing was tricky on the more serious injuries, and he’d want to know why I was so intent on restoring my strength quickly, instead of naturally. I wasn’t about to have him hover over me while I was visiting my indigo-eyed mountain lion.
“We’ll look through your father’s study before we resort to them,” he said grimly. “No Wolfes. Not if we can help it. The more pieces of this puzzle come together, the more I think John had suspected something long before we did. That’s probably the only reason why he died like that.”
I hadn’t wanted my thoughts to turn that way, but in the end, I knew I would have needed to ask myself the same thing. Had he known? And if so, why did he say nothing before his death?
They had died terribly, that much was certain. And if Rosalind had been subsumed by this Maga Prima, she would have had to have put herself in a position to bargain with it, which meant she had likely broken the rules herself, many times over, traveling deeper into the deadside and opening doors best le
ft shut.
I wondered if she had ever studied with Vivienne, or if her birth-coven knew of anything. She had once belonged to the Wickes. I would need to send a message their way with pleas for information.
Regardless, my mother was likely the reason for my father’s death. Perhaps he’d confronted her with his suspicions and her matron had destroyed them both.
Or partially destroyed… even on her pyre, Rosalind’s body had been trying to regenerate itself. That was necromancy, plain and simple.
And the Wolfes were rumored to practice necromancy. I’d never seen any evidence of it myself, but regardless of Eric’s feelings for them, I had every intention of contacting Vivienne Wolfe as well.
“The study is a good start,” I agreed. I would have to make concessions, and this was one I wasn’t going to fight. I wanted to find out if my father had left anything, maybe a diary or a journal detailing her decline. Somehow that seemed like it’d be a little too easy- his spirit would’ve showed us while we were there, wouldn’t he? I had a feeling the answers lay elsewhere, and getting them wouldn’t be easy. “I’d like to know more about this House of Mirrors it’s referencing. Were there any juicy details in there?”
Eric paused just a moment took long before he shook his head. “Nothing we need to worry about yet.”
A broad-shouldered figure appeared in the distance ahead of us, strolling casually with their hands in their pockets. I didn’t even need to pick out the black hair to know who it was.
Eric seemed relieved to be rescued from answering any more questions. It was hard to tell what he felt for Joss; our relationship was clearly growing, and Joss had gone out of his way to see me in the hospital and invite us to Rosethorne, which brought him up in Eric’s esteem.
Perhaps they had bonded over their shared regret that they hadn’t been able to anchor me before I plunged into a suicide mission. I didn’t blame either of them. The choice had been mine.
I still replayed the spirit’s words to me, spoken through Cecily’s lips: “I knew you would come… how far will you go to save this body?”
She had known. Whatever Rosalind might be now, she had known what to instruct her servant to do, knowing I wouldn’t be able to resist leaping after her. She knew me too well for me to fight her with clear eyes.
Joss nodded as we drew closer, and Eric nodded back. They had definitely bonded in some weird way. Why couldn’t men just wave like normal people?
“Hey, Mor. Eric.” I managed a half-smile as I tried to hide the worst of my limp. Joss’s eyebrows drew together as I stumbled ever so slightly, and he reached out to take my other arm. “Real graceful, doll.”
I scoffed, leaning between him and Eric for support. The pain in my knee was one solid ache now. “Glad to see you, too.”
I’d seen Joss almost every day since he had found me in the hospital. Between the two of them I was literally almost never alone. They probably discussed smothering tactics while I slept, which was the only free time they had from hovering.
But for all my grouchiness, I was glad Eric had stuck with me (and kissed you, my brain whispered, what does that mean? Are the walls crumbling?), and that Joss and Adrian hadn’t determined me a lost cause.
“Ready for your extended vacation?” he asked. He gave me a lopsided smile, but it was strained at the edges. Melinda Thorne, implacable as she was, was unlikely to give up until one of the other covens announced my engagement to one of them. Even then, I would probably still be fair game to her.
Eric spoke before I could begin to formulate an answer. “She’s ready, Thorne.”
“I am?” I asked, staring up at him quizzically. It was worse than I thought. They might actually be becoming friends.
He shrugged one shoulder. “They have a waystone. It’ll be a lot easier to travel back to Bellhallow afterwards, and you’ll recuperate just as easily, and in safety, near their wards.”
I couldn’t argue against the safety of Rosethorne. I just didn’t think living in Melinda’s home would do anything for my health or sanity.
“I’ll keep Mother will be out of the way for most of it,” Joss said. “I do want to make sure you’re recovering, but Felix might need your help with research. He’s on a petition while I handle covenmaster duties for the moment and it’s the first time he’s ever taken on an official petition. He really wants to see you again.”
Ah. That explained a lot. Felix was one of the younger Thorne boys. Last time I’d seen him, he’d been a gawky twelve-year-old.
It probably would help him to have a dedicated research assistant for a week or two if the petition was giving him trouble. Gods knew I could have used one this past week, and besides, it would get me out of Rosethorne if Melinda got on my nerves.
I heaved a sigh and tugged on Eric to continue walking. My knee would burn fiercely if I stopped moving for too long. The dull ache of movement was better by far than the fire of stillness.
“Fine,” I grumbled. If Melinda was distracted and Joss was around, I might even be able to see Adrian and get these lessons started while living in Rosethorne. All in all, it wasn’t that terrible of an idea.
It was just… Melinda. Ugh.
“I promise she won’t bother you,” Joss said, glancing at me from under thick lashes. His psychic touch prowling over me as he tried to surreptitiously check how my wounds were healing.
“I don’t believe you in the slightest,” I said, grinning back at him.
Had he and Eric discussed Adrian Wolfe’s presence? Eric never said yes immediately. He was the one who considered everything first.
Which was probably for the better, as leaping in headfirst without looking seemed to be a death wish of mine.
We walked together through the sun and I made plans. Plans for health, knowledge, and pushing myself past the limits of pain as I moved. Only by getting through it would I be able to become better and stronger, a match for Rosalind’s mistress.
The Maga Prima.
They couldn’t shield me from it. I had to become Adrian’s Persephone if there was to be a prayer of surviving this, able to bend the Underworld to my will. I needed the discipline to attain that power.
A few weeks with Melinda was nothing next to that, nothing next to these entities of Death that could annihilate a living witch’s soul and essential self.
We had circled back around to the lake as a flash of color caught my eye in the forest. Irritation boiled over in me as Stone cocked a finger, beckoning me over. For once, he wasn’t smirking.
“I need a moment,” I said, sliding out of Eric’s grasp. My servitor looked skeptical, but Joss touched his shoulder. Oh, Hecate no, the friendship had really begun. Now I’d be outnumbered.
“She’s got this. We can’t watch her pee, too.”
The look on Eric’s face told me he was definitely considering it.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said ferociously, pointing at him as I limped into the forest.
As the trees closed around me. I crossed my arms over my chest when I stopped in front of the Warden. “What do you want now?”
Stone tossed his runestone in the air, catching it solidly in his palm. His chocolate gaze ran over me, taking in my messy bun, fading bruises, and the way I favored one knee. “Heard what happened to you.”
“Really, Stone? Did you harass my servitor while I was in the hospital?” Was Grimmcliff’s complaint really that serious? Maybe if they needed fifty measly bucks so bad, they should’ve answered that woman’s petitions.
“You risked your life to save a human.” Stone completely ignored my question. “You didn’t have to do that. Grimmcliff wouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, I’m not a Grimm. They’re a bunch of pansies, anyways.”
We stared at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment.
“I’m gonna let the fine go. But I’d better see you back in Bellhallow before the statute’s up.” Stone held out a hand, and I groaned when a scroll shot through the air and smacked me
right in the middle of my forehead. It fell to the ground and I made no move to pick it up. “Third notice. This one’s above my head, homes.”
“I’m not your homes, guy.”
There was the smirk. “I’m not your guy, pal. I’m your friendly neighborhood Warden- now get that taken care of, Bell, because the Tribunal’s not playing around.”
He twinkled his fingers at me in a mocking farewell and I shook my head. “Thanks for dropping the fine, Stone.” The salty part of me wanted to add maybe you’re not such a tool bag, after all, but… honestly, he wasn’t so bad when he was being nice.
He might even be a tiny bit okay.
I turned away and managed several limping steps before something pinged off my ass. I snatched at the air behind me, grabbing the scroll. Stone laughed. “Don’t forget your notice. I’d really hate to have to come find you again.”
“Oh, me too,” I muttered, crumbling the scroll and shoving it in my jeans pocket. “Me, too.” The only thing I’d miss about him was how easy he was on the eyes.
Leaving Stone to runestone himself out of there, I returned to my men, ready to leave Ashville and the human world behind.
Eric stood at my side with several suitcases packed with all our worldly belongings, the shining blade of my rowan sickle laid on top.
I ran my hand over the logo emblazoned on the rusty van, the yellow candle faded. Bell, Book, & Candle was closed for the foreseeable future, and the van would be going into storage for the time being. I ignored the tiny knot in my stomach as we closed the storage garage door.
It was time to turn over a new leaf. Time to let go of the past, accept what had happened, and face the consequences.
Joss had keyed a rune to the building next door, a ramshackle pawn shop. At a quarter to three, we would open the side door, which would lead into the courtyard of Rosethorne, rather than the pawnshop interior.
Even with Melinda hovering around, I was looking forward to being around Joss again, and Adrian, if Eric ever deigned to let him near me.
We wheeled the whole teetering mountain of suitcases into the alley next to the pawn shop. We had five minutes before the rune would awaken. I looked around at the dilapidated brick buildings, the faded graffiti, the busted neon signs hanged crooked over dives.