At the mention of her name, all the air seemed to leave the cave. Cordelia’s tree-sculpture moved, and a few cracks appeared in the ceiling as the glyphs shifted, luminous patterns moving before my eyes.
I took a step backwards. “You… you’re mad at her, not me. Right? She believed the worst of you.”
Cordelia said nothing. My heartbeat seemed uncomfortably loud in the silence, and for once, I wished Evelyn would speak up.
“You were allies,” I said. “So… how did you end up fighting? Where’d it go wrong?”
No response came. Oh, she was mad at Lady Harper all right. But why? Okay, my former mentor had believed Evelyn was the person who’d helped the Soul Collector, but then, so had I at first. That was reason enough for them to spurn me, but if my secret was exposed, the Hemlocks were all I’d have left.
“Where did it go wrong?” Cordelia repeated. “Alice Harper and I disagreed on most fronts. She was no Hemlock witch, and couldn’t truly understand our cause.”
“You were distantly related,” I said. “But you’ve never let Wanda or any of your other distant relations into the forest.”
“A lot of supernaturals might claim a distant link to our coven,” she said, in tones that suggested if she was physically capable of shrugging, she would have. “We were, after all, the first.”
“The first coven?” At this point, I’d suspected the Hemlocks predated every other surviving coven in the UK. No other coven I knew of depended on bloodline for succession, and it struck me as the sort of antiquated approach that would have died out decades ago if not centuries. Something different ran in the blood of the Hemlock witches—a force no other witch possessed. And not in a good way. “You know, your superior attitude sounds awfully like a certain wannabe-god.”
“Don’t you dare compare us to them,” she hissed. “The Ancients have tried to destroy us countless times.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said. “Look at the Soul Collector. He hid out in Edinburgh without anyone ever finding him. Any others you forgot to mention?”
“The Soul Collector had no body or physical manifestation,” said Cordelia. “Nor a weapon until he stole ours. If the Ancients survived in your realm, they’d be in a similar form or worse. Most died off, or were sealed away—by us, or by the mages’ predecessors. I’d advise you not to go looking for liminal spaces, Jacinda. You might not like what you find.”
I threw up my hands. “You’re still trying to pull the wool over my eyes? I’ve seen you at your most vulnerable. I know this place isn’t gonna last forever. War or no war, if I’m to stay on your side, I deserve the truth. And not when it’s too late for me to do anything about it.”
“The truth about what, Jacinda?”
Where to bloody start? “How did you bind Evelyn and me? Why not give us a way out? You knew it was forbidden and that the mages would probably execute us for it if they found out.”
That type of magic had been forbidden for the last hundred years at least, according to what I’d read in the archives. Even though they’d been stuck in the forest for decades, the Hemlocks had known.
“We had no choice but to act in the moment,” Cordelia said. “Evelyn was dying. Every other heir was dead. There was a good chance we wouldn’t live to see the dawn. Hundreds of mages perished when the Sidhe came. I little expected their pedantic human laws would persist.”
“Well, you thought wrong.” Damn. I’d hoped they’d built in a get-out clause, but unfortunately, her words matched up with what I’d heard of the day-and-a-half of hell that had been the faeries’ invasion. Half the Mage Lords in the country had died. Laws hadn’t mattered, only survival. “Is there a way for me to, uh, bind Evelyn into the forest the same way you are?”
“No,” said Cordelia. “The curse on us is unique, and can’t be replicated. Only when we expire will this power pass onto the heir. Both of you.”
“I won’t be sealed away,” Evelyn said through my mouth. “Never again.” Magic sparked at my own hands. I got the message—and so did the cave, which warped around us, the glyphs spinning like a merry-go-round.
“That’s making me dizzy,” I said, but the words never left my mouth. “Come on, I was kidding.”
Honestly, if Evelyn wanted to serve her coven as badly as she claimed, you’d think being bound into the cave along with her fellow witches would be an honour.
“Evelyn,” I said, but no sound came out. “Evelyn, let me—"
“You’re fools,” said a voice. Lady Harper strode into the cave. Her face was a little less lined than it’d been in the time I’d known her, but she leaned on a walking stick and wore the irritable expression I’d known her for in life.
Oh, crap. I was in one of the forest’s visions, or memories.
“This place claims more of your sanity by the day,” Lady Harper said. “Why should I alert the council to your delusions?”
“Not delusions,” said Cordelia’s voice from behind me. “I see only the truth.”
“What am I to tell them?” Lady Harper asked. “That one of your nonsensical prophecies is coming true? They might believe me, but they’d never believe you. You removed yourself from the council too long ago.”
“The council sees only the realm before their eyes, not what lies beneath and beyond,” croaked the old witch.
“The Gatekeepers don’t believe there’s a threat,” Lady Harper said. “And they’d know. I’d say you’ve spent too long in this forest, watching battles old and new. It’s made you paranoid.”
You’re one to talk.
“Luck favours the prepared,” whispered Cordelia. “Please, Alice, tell your son that his daughter may carry the gift. If she does, we’ll need her.”
Lady Harper’s mouth tightened. “There are no Hemlock witches in my family, Cordelia. You are the last of them.”
“There are others,” said Cordelia, speaking quickly. “In Edinburgh, in hiding. Contact them, I beg of you. Warn them. Warn the Briar witches, too. Warn them they’re coming.”
Lady Harper’s brows rose. “Survivors?”
“Heirs,” Cordelia said. “My heirs.”
The scene dissolved. I became aware that I was on my knees on the bridge back in Edinburgh, breathing heavily. Why had the Hemlocks chosen to show me that memory? To prove Lady Harper had been in the wrong?
Taking in a steadying breath, I asked Evelyn, “Do you remember that?”
Evelyn didn’t answer. I shook my head at myself. Of course she wouldn’t remember. She hadn’t actually been there in the forest, she’d been with her family.
Not long after that scene, if it was when I thought it was, she’d died.
The Hemlocks had seen it coming. But Lady Harper? I hadn’t known she’d outright denied the Hemlocks’ warnings. Had she done as Cordelia asked and warned the other Hemlocks in Edinburgh? She’d been too late to save her son, I’d worked that much out. The daughter mentioned in the vision was Wanda, but she’d never been born with the gift.
And… Cordelia had implied all the Hemlocks had been in Edinburgh, meaning I must have been born here. Like Evelyn, and Leila. I had no recollection of the first year of my life, but it explained why Lady Harper hadn’t come here and dragged me home after I’d run away. I’d lived here as a baby, before the faeries came.
I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering uncontrollably. Even the supernatural council hadn’t believed the Hemlocks’ warnings. No wonder the witches had cut themselves off from the world.
I wouldn’t have believed them either.
“Evelyn,” I whispered. “Tell me there’s not going to be a war.”
Silence answered.
“Jas, you look like hell warmed over,” Keir said across the table at Cassandra’s Café.
I sipped my extra-strength coffee and shrugged. “Still the best-looking living Hemlock there is.” I gave a laugh that probably wasn’t very convincing. “I was gonna text you last night, but let’s just say our graveyard shift didn’t exactly go as planned.�
�
I told my tale of last night’s attack and this morning’s revelations in the forest.
Keir let out a low whistle. “How do you manage to find a new way to get into trouble every time?”
“At least I didn’t utterly disbelieve a warning about the end of the world.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” he said. “The invasion would have happened no matter what. Lady Harper might have regretted ignoring the warning signs, but it sounds like she saved your life.”
“Or endangered it. I really need to track down this Briar Coven. I know they saved my life when I was poisoned, but I was kinda dead at the time.”
Not to mention I’d thought they were in Lady Harper’s pocket. I’d avoided asking anyone about them for that reason alone up until her death. But now I knew they’d met Evelyn when she was still alive—not to mention my blood family, who’d died before I’d ever known them? If I’d gone looking for them rather than being a stubborn arse, I might not feel so utterly adrift.
“Then we’ll find them,” he said decisively. “There’s nothing else you can do about those hellhounds.”
“No…” I bit into my bacon sandwich. “I just find it suspicious that it happened on the same spirit line the Soul Collector attacked.”
Keir took a long sip of coffee. “No signs of any ghosts, either?”
“A weird disembodied howling, but it might have been the hellhounds.” I chewed another mouthful. “No sign of who summoned them. I have to get back to the guild and fill out a billion reports later, but I have an hour or two free. I mean, if you want to look around the graveyard in daylight in case I missed the site of the summoning, we can do that. Or we could go after the witches.”
“I expect the guild will already have sent people to the graveyard at the first light of dawn,” he said. “The witches, however… it sounds like they might be important.”
“Not enough to actually leave me a message saying where they live when they saved my life.” I put down my unfinished sandwich, my appetite fleeing. “I can’t believe I was born here and I don’t remember. And Lady Harper knew.”
It was the least of what she hadn’t told me, but even the half-empty café looked different to my eyes now. Though I was the one who’d changed. The city was the same as ever.
Keir reached and took my hand across the table. “I’d say it’s worth tracking these witches down.”
“Right.” I crumpled a napkin in my hand. “I don’t actually have an address. Would you believe it? I was so pissed at Lady Harper that I never asked. But someone at the market will know. I might have to break out a disguise spell.”
“Disguise?” he echoed. “Why, you don’t think there are still witches out to get you?”
“There are always witches out to get me,” I responded, downing the remainder of my coffee. “I’ll text Isabel, but I won’t drag her out of bed if I don’t have to.”
Besides, if these witches had known me as a baby… I wanted to meet them alone, at least for the first time.
I snapped on my disguise spell as we approached the witch market, turning into a tall blond woman with nondescript features and definitely no necromancer cloak. Stalls lined the cobbled street, selling everything from bottled and powdered ingredients to specialist handmade spells. Since the market wasn’t regulated, buying spells there always carried a risk, but the witches were generally pretty good at running hoaxers out of town. I hoped Evelyn would keep her mouth shut this time.
“Hey there,” I said to a young woman who looked like she might be part faerie, who stood behind a stall selling jarred potions for beauty and anti-aging. “I wondered if you could tell me where to find the Briar Coven?”
“The Briars?” She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “They’re gone. Left town over a month ago.”
“What? That can’t be right. I, er, met with them in November.” Or my unconscious almost-corpse had, anyway.
“Lots of people have left.” She gave a shrug, getting in a toss of her luscious dark hair. “Some bad elements around lately.”
“Oh?” I asked, not needing to feign interest. “Like what?”
“You know. People disappearing off the streets. It’s been going on for months now. Just ask… hey, Callum.”
“Oh, I know what you mean,” I said quickly, not wanting to draw anyone else into our conversation. “Can you tell me where the Briar witches used to live?”
“I think they rented that place in Silverwood Street,” she said. “But as I said, they packed up and left. At least six weeks ago, now.”
“Thanks anyway.” I backed away from the stall, frustration bubbling in my chest. Dammit, Jas. Why hadn’t I gone looking for them before? They’d saved my life, for god’s sake. On the other hand, if they’d left over six weeks ago, then it was possible they’d only stuck around for a week or two at most after they’d saved my life. I’d been so preoccupied at the time that the thought of tracking them down had never crossed my mind.
Keir and I walked the short distance to Silverwood Street. Bitterly cold air whipped my face, and even Keir’s hand in mine didn’t banish the chill in my bones.
“I don’t think there’s anyone here,” Keir said quietly.
A row of terraced houses faced us. Their windows were almost all boarded up, their doors locked and without the signs of protective wards common to witch establishments. I tapped into the spirit realm, seeing only grey, and left my body, floating from one door to the next.
Empty rooms, bare of furniture. Empty bookshelves. Dust. And no note, no farewell from the coven who’d saved my life.
I jumped when someone put an arm around me, but it was only Keir. “Jas? You okay?”
I turned to him, hovering in the middle of the deserted street. “I was born here. My parents lived here—my whole family might have. And nobody told me.” Ghostly tears fell from my eyes, not leaving a trace. “I should have asked. Why didn’t I ask?”
Keir hugged me, resting his chin on my head. Not feeding on me. Just holding me.
The buzz of my phone in my pocket jolted me back into my body. I grabbed it with numb fingers. “Hey, Isabel,” I said, wiping my eyes. “What’s up?”
“There’s been an incident at the hotel,” Isabel said. “I wondered if you heard.”
I gripped the phone tight. “No… no, I didn’t. Shit, what happened?”
“Shifter attack.”
7
“Another shifter attack? On who?” I was already walking away, the phone pressed tight to my ear.
“The mages,” Isabel said. “Three of them were seriously injured. And it’s worse than before—the shifter who attacked them was an ambassador to the Council.”
“Shit.” I quickened my pace, Keir falling into step alongside me. “I’ll be right there.”
I hung up the phone, swearing under my breath. Not again.
“All my friends are staying at that hotel,” I said to Keir. “The protective spells—I put them on the whole building. The attack must have happened outside.”
Because of the wards my Hemlock magic had accidentally put on the hotel, the magical equivalent of an earthquake could hit the place and it’d remain standing. Nothing could breach those wards. Right?
I slowed down as we got closer to the hotel, and Keir stopped walking. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come inside with you.”
“Maybe now’s not the best time for you to meet my friends,” I acknowledged, spotting Ivy standing beside the hotel doors with her sword out and a scowl on her face. “I’m supposed to be reporting to the guild on the mission last night. I’ll ask Lloyd to tell the boss that I’ll be late.” I’d owe him for it, but one look at the crime scene banished all my other worries. Streaks of blood, matted with what looked like fur, covered the area in front of the hotel, while the taint of a spell caught in my nostrils.
Keir took a step backwards. “I think your boss will make an exception, considering the attack. You okay here?”
It’s impossible. I thought nothing could outdo my Hemlock magic.
“I’ll call you later.” Keir embraced me, earning a raised eyebrow from Ivy, who’d finally spotted me.
As he walked away, Ivy approached. “Necromancer?”
“Vampire.”
“Not the same vampire who attacked you the other week?”
“Uh…” I’d completely forgotten that Ivy had witnessed the aftermath when Keir had sent a vessel after me to get at the Hemlock Coven, and Isabel and I had destroyed it.
Ivy shook her head. “You’re determined to play with fire, aren’t you? Isabel was right.”
“Where is she, in her room?”
Ivy’s mouth tightened at the sight of all the blood. “She’s brewing up some tracking spells. The mages have the shifter in custody, but they aren’t letting any of the rest of us sit in on the questioning. There’s no doubt he was sent to target the mages and nobody else.”
“The attack took place here, right?” I moved a little closer to the glass doors, but I didn’t see any bloodstains in the lobby. “Because, uh, I’m the one who warded the building.”
Her brow furrowed. “Isabel didn’t mention that. The shifter never got into the building—we know that much.”
“So what exactly happened?” I asked. “Isabel said the attacker was an ambassador? Was he acting alone?”
“Apparently,” Ivy said. “As far as I can work out, he was hanging outside waiting for the first mages to come out of the building. Vance and I didn’t get downstairs fast enough to stop him. One of the mages had already restrained the shifter by the time we caught up.” She waved at Vance as he pushed open the glass doors to join us. “Just updating Jas. Isabel will be down with the tracking spells.”
Witch's Spirit (The Hemlock Chronicles Book 3) Page 7