Silent Circle

by Cassandra Larsen

  “What? Like Greek mythology or something?”

  “Not Greek specifically. I don’t have time for a whole lesson in pantheons right now, but suffice it to say that each pantheon, or set of Gods and Goddesses, regardless if it’s Greek, Celtic, Norse, whatever, has certain archetypes. Aphrodite is considered the Goddess of Love in Greek mythology, but in Norse, she’s called Freyja. Odin and Morrigan are both war deities, but Odin is Norse while Morrigan is Celtic.

  “Anyway, depending on where the witches lived, they worshipped deities specific to that region. And different witches are born with different abilities, usually based on a particular deity, or archetype. So, a witch might be born with the ability to charm anyone they meet. That would be a gift from the Goddess of Love, who could be called by many names, depending on which pantheon they worshipped: Aphrodite, Freyja, Venus, Parvati, Aine, and so on.”

  “And you believe that these ‘deities’ just decide to come down and grant us these powers?” I ask skeptically.

  “That’s just one of the legends,” he explains. “Another one says that witches are the ancestors of these deities. Yet another says that the Gods and Goddess were actually based on witches of old who were worshipped by humans as divine beings. The truth is, no one really knows for sure where our powers come from, but they do tend to come in the form of one archetype or another.”

  “Sounds confusing. But what does this have to do with Ashwood Creek?”

  “I’m getting to that. So, certain witches were also born with the ability to charm or control animals, or even take the shape of one.”

  “Like Odin or Morrigan,” I say, turning onto I-91.

  “Exactly, though there are other shape shifters, such as Loki, Circe and Zeus. But yes, essentially. Well, one of our legends tells of a witch named Morgan who had the ability to communicate with animals and shape shift. One day, she was approached by a wolf that had fallen in love with a human woman. Since Morgan was well known for her shape shifting talents, the wolf asked if she could transform him into a human. Morgan agreed, but told the wolf that for the three days each month, on the full moon and the days before and after it, he would change back into his original form and be forced to serve her. He agreed to the terms, and the first werewolf was born.”

  I take my eyes off the road to look at Caiden. “Are you trying to tell me that you believe in werewolves, Caid? You going to tell me vampires exist too?”

  He doesn’t laugh at my joke. “You’ve seen proof that witches exist. You’ve done things yourself that aren’t humanly possible. Do you honestly believe that witches are the only supernatural race out there?”

  “I don’t know... I believe in witches because, as you said, I’ve seen it. I’ve done it. But werewolves? Vampires? Sounds crazy. Well, crazier.”

  “Vampires?” He shrugs. “I can’t say, never having seen one myself. But there’s no question about werewolves. I’ve come across one when I was younger.”

  “You’ve seen a werewolf? Where? When?”

  “It’s not something I want to get into,” he says grimly. “I’m not finished with the story. So, the wolf agreed and was transformed into a human, but had to change back into his wolf form during the full moon. Eventually, he married the woman and they had children. But the children... they became a problem.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, first of all, they were able to shift into their wolf form whenever they chose to, not just during the full moon. But more importantly, whenever they were in their wolf forms, they could be forced into servitude. And it wasn’t just Morgan they were bound to. These new werewolves were at the mercy of any witch who had the ability to shape shift.”

  “Any witch who could shape shift could control these werewolves? Sucks for the werewolves...”

  “As you can imagine, this didn’t go over too well with them. They were able to change their shape at will, but whenever they did, they ran the risk of being forced into slavery.

  “This continued for hundreds of years, until the early 14th century, when the werewolf population grew large enough to do something about it. They banded together and hunted us down. They focused primarily on those whose families had the ability of transmutation, but eventually started killing any witch they could find. This war lasted for centuries and gained the attention of the Christian Church.”

  “The witch hunts? Are you saying that the witch hunts were actually started by werewolves out for revenge?”

  He smiles, but it’s not a happy one. “Exactly. Most of the trials and executions were instigated by the weres. Of course, it ended up backfiring a little. The story of the ‘witch’s familiar,’ usually a wolf, began a whole wave of werewolf hunts as well. Some wolves were caught and executed, but compared to number of witches killed in that period, the werewolves got off easy.

  “Things calmed down around the 18th century, when they felt confident that they killed off all the witches from the shape shifting bloodlines. However, they still hunt us. Not the way they used to, but if they were to get wind of a coven, they wouldn’t hesitate to move in and destroy it.”

  We’re quiet for a few minutes while I digest this. He was right; it is a lot to take in. Eventually, I break the silence.

  “You still haven’t told me what this has to do with where we’re going.”

  He looks out the window when he answers. “There’s rumored to be a large pack up in Silver Lake State Park. Ashwood Creek is just outside of it. If there really is a pack of werewolves up there, and they find out what we are, they’ll kill us.”

  My mouth drops open. I practically dragged him on a suicide mission. But it’s too late for me to turn back. I need to find some answers.

  “Well, I guess we’d better not let them find out.”

  We drive the next hour listening to the radio, neither of us speaking. My cell phone goes off a few times, ‘You're So Damn Hot’ echoing out of my purse: my ringtone for Sebastian. I ignore it.

  After the third time, Caiden says, “If you have to answer that you can pull into the rest station up ahead.”

  “No, he can wait.”

  “I guess that’s Sebastian?”

  “Yup.”

  Caiden studies me for a moment. “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Ha,” I laugh. “Since when have you needed permission to ask a personal question?”

  “The training sessions are different. It’s my job to insult you then,” he responds with a ghost of a smile. “I’m not trying to offend you now, but I am curious. What do you see in him?”

  “Sebastian?”

  “Yeah. I mean, you guys have been dating for a while, but I’ve never understood why...”

  “I thought we already covered this? I’m with him for his car.” I mean to say it jokingly, but it comes out bitter as I recall Josh’s and Chris’s comments these last few days.

  “Seriously, I want to know,” he presses.

  If someone would have told me a week ago that I’d be talking about my relationship with Sebastian to Caiden, I would have laughed in their face. But now, well, after the things he’s told me about his past, I suppose it’s only fair to give him an honest answer.

  I explain to him how, after my mom died, all my old friends dropped me, only Sebastian and Olivia stuck around.

  “They were fun, you know? I didn’t have to worry about what they thought; they weren’t going to judge me like everyone else. It was nice to just mess around, have fun. The three of us were practically inseparable, so I guess it just kind of made sense for Seb and me to start dating...” I pause, uncomfortable under Caiden’s close scrutiny. “I don’t know. He’s funny, and we have a good time together. And, though he may not seem like it, he can be really sweet.” I think back to our morning on the beach.

  “He doesn’t exactly seem like the type you’d be able to have a real conversation with. Does he even care about what’s going on with you right now? He has to have noticed something’s up. And even though you c
an’t tell him about the witch stuff, you could have told him about your mom. The questions you have. It would at least explain why you’ve been hanging around with me, talking to Caroline. But you haven’t. Why not?”

  “He wouldn’t understand...“ I lapse into silence as I think back to Olivia’s reactions when I told her. Sebastian would think I’m just as crazy as she does.

  Thankfully, Caiden lets the conversation drop. I check the GPS again. We’re close. We left the interstate some time ago and have been driving through endless tracts of forest. Eventually, the trees thin out and a few buildings come into view.

  Ashwood Creek isn’t so much a town as road with a few shops and offices. I pull into the parking lot next to a small white building that looks more like a one room schoolhouse than Town Hall, despite the sign hanging above the door.

  Caiden turns to me, wariness stamped all over his features. “So, what’s the plan then?”

  “I figure we can start here. If I can get my mom’s birth certificate, then I’ll have the name of my grandparents. My grandpa died when my mom was young, but maybe my grandma is still around here.”

  Caiden nods, and looks cautiously around the deserted parking lot before following me into Town Hall. Inside is just one large room, broken up with those portable walls they use for cubicles in offices.

  An older woman greets us at the counter.

  “I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you folks lost?” She asks with a bright smile, but her eyes study us closely.

  “No.” I try not to look as nervous as I feel. “I’m here to get a birth certificate, actually.”

  “Really? Well, I can get you the forms to fill out. What’s the name of the certificate you’re looking for?” She begins rifling through some papers.

  “Elizabeth McByrne.”

  She freezes, looking up with wide eyes. “Elizabeth McByrne? Madelyn’s daughter?”

  Caiden’s body shifts slightly in front of mine.

  “Did you know her?” I ask

  “Of course.” She blushes and continues rifling through the stack of forms.

  Caiden looks at me meaningfully and I know he’s as anxious as I am.

  “Everyone knows everyone around here,” she continues, trying to compose herself. “Are you related to her?”

  “No,” I say quickly. She gives me a puzzled frown. “I mean, kind of. A distant cousin. Through marriage...” I try to cover my tracks. “It’s for this genealogy project for school. Family trees. Not that she’s really family, of course, but my teacher wants us to be as thorough as we can–”

  Caiden bumps me with his shoulder, stopping my babbling.

  Her eyes narrow suspiciously as she hands me a form. “Well, here it is. I’ll need your name and address, plus a check for $10.”

  *You can’t give her any of your information.*

  “You know what, I forgot my checkbook.” I smack my head lightly. “I can’t believe it. I guess I’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

  “Well, why don’t you take the form with you so you can have it all filled out when you come back.” She smiles again, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

  I take the paper, and hesitate. This woman knows my grandma. She might be my only shot at getting some information. I certainly can’t fill these out to get her birth certificate. I’ll have to take a risk.

  “Do you know where Madelyn is now?” I ask.

  Caiden grabs my upper arm in warning.

  Her smile drops. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. Be sure to fill out that form when you return.”

  “Well thanks for your help.” I wave cheerfully at her while Caiden practically drags me out the door.

  We hurry through the parking lot, his hand clamped on my upper arm. When we get to my car he spins me around to face him.

  “Did you hear anything I said on the way over here? We can’t draw any attention to ourselves!”

  “Calm down, Caiden. It was just a question. Chill.”

  He’s fuming. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Alright. Well, we tried. Now let’s go.”

  “We can’t go yet! We only just got here!”

  “And now we’re leaving.”

  “Oh no, we’re not! We came all the way out here. I’m not leaving without some answers!”

  “Yeah? And where are you planning on getting those answers? You can’t get her birth records without giving out your information. So unless you have any other bright ideas?”

  I smile slyly and whip out my phone, praying that I’ll be able to get 4G out here. After a quick search on Yellowpages.com, I triumphantly hold the phone up so he can see.

  “Only one listing for McByrne in this area. 18 Willow Lane, Ashwood Creek, VT.”

  A search on Google Maps tells us that the address is only a couple of miles away. I look at Caiden with pleading eyes.

  “We’ve already come this far. What do you say to one last stop before we head home?”

  He scowls at me.

  “Please,” I beg, batting my lashes at him.

  He groans deep in his throat. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 19

  We follow the GPS to a deserted dirt road a couple of miles outside of town, completely surrounded by forest. Caiden has me park a little ways down the road, maneuvering the car so it’s partially concealed by low hanging branches. We get out and peer through the trees around us, taking in our surroundings. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Caiden gives me a hard stare.

  *You sure you want to do this?*

  *Positive.*

  *Fine. But if I say run, you run. We take a quick look around, and at the slightest sign of trouble, we get out. No arguing. Got it?*

  *Yes, sir.*

  He scowls at my flippancy, then grabs my hand and closes his eyes. A tingling begins in the hand he’s holding, the feeling moving up my arm, through my chest, eventually engulfing my whole body.

  *What are you doing?* I ask him, unnerved.

  *Hiding us. As long as we don’t make any noise, we should be able to move around unseen.*

  He opens his eyes and the tingle fades slightly, replaced by a comforting warmth.

  We glide through the brilliantly colored trees, trying not to make too much noise in the recently fallen leaves, approaching the house from the side. We reach the edge of the tree line and study the house.

  It’s a neat little log cabin set back from the road. It’s not huge, but large enough for a small family to live in comfortably. There’s a well-kept garden out front, mostly brown now with the fall.

  Caiden peers around cautiously before making his way across the open ground to the house. I follow him, feeling like I’m being watched as we sneak up to the back door. I look around us again, but don’t see anyone. It’s probably just Caiden’s jumpiness rubbing off on me. Every crackling leaf and snapping twig makes me flinch.

  We climb the wooden steps, cross the well-worn deck to reach the back door. He gives the glass door a gentle pull, sliding it open smoothly.

  His mouth twists in a grimace at the unlocked door. *I don’t like this. It’s too easy.*

  *Probably not much need for locked doors around these parts,* I answer, rolling my eyes at his suspicions and trying to hide the fact that my heart is pounding right out of my chest.

  We step quietly into what looks to be the dining room. There’s a rectangular table with six chairs around it, all in unvarnished wood, giving it a homemade appearance. Moving around stealthily, I examine the pictures on the walls. Most of them are landscapes – meadows and streams and such – but there’s one of a young bride and groom. It’s in black and white, the bride’s long. dark hair spilling down below her waist. Her and the man are standing stiffly, formally posed, neither one smiling.

  Caiden moves onto the next room silently while I study the photo.

  *Emerson, you’re going to want to see this.*

  Tearing my eyes away from the picture, I walk into the next room. Caiden is standin
g in front of a large stone fireplace, staring at something on the shelf.

  As I get closer, I notice some of the figurines on the mantle. One of them is of a dark haired woman, crudely carved, surrounded by a raven and a wolf. Morrigan.

  A larger statue grabs my attention. It’s a man with long golden hair hanging below his shoulders with a beard to match. He’s sitting on an immense throne, dressed up in a steel chest plate, a horned Viking helmet on his head, and a wicked looking spear gripped in his right hand. A raven perches on his left shoulder and a wolf crouches at his right knee. As I get closer, I notice he’s wearing a patch over his right eye. Odin. I recognize him from the few internet searches I did when I was trying to find out about the Yggdrasil.

  Then Caiden moves to the left, looking over his shoulder at me, and I forget about the statues.

  My eyes zero in on the small photo in front of him. Inside the plain silver frame, a young woman with long, wavy black hair flowing below her hips and deep violet eyes ringed in black lashes smiles back at me. I stare, stunned. It’s like looking into a mirror.

  *She looks exactly like you. You were right. Your grandmother lives here.*

  I’ve never seen any photographs of my mom when she was younger, but I know instinctively that this is her.

  There’s an older woman in the photo, her arm wrapped around my mom’s shoulders, the same plum colored eyes crinkled in the corners. Her face is slightly rounder, her black hair pulled back up into a bun, with small age lines ringing her eyes and mouth.

  I study her face, tracing the similarities. I assume this is Madelyn. My grandmother.

  A noise from the front of the house has us both whirling around. A shuffling comes from near the front door.

  *Time to go.*

  Caiden grabs my hand to lead me back towards the exit.

  No, it’s too soon – I’m so close to answers! In desperation, I grab the photograph off the shelf. Caiden’s too intent on getting out to notice. We hurry out the door, closing it quietly behind us.

  The sun is low in the sky, casting long shadows around us as we retrace our steps back through the woods. Before we reach the car, a prickling sensation makes me look up.