“Keep going,” Duke encouraged, loving the vibration of her power as it shivered over his fingers, down his arm, along his spine, to his feet and straight into the ground.
She said the spell again. And again. The trees were swaying up high, sending beams of sunlight through the dense foliage.
There was a hush. A sudden silence. He could feel the expectation of the interns around them and then, like a rush sweeping them one by one, he felt their awe.
“Hazel, look,” he whispered. “Shadow Banshees.”
Floating through the trees, around the trunks, twirling along the branches were bright wisps of color: blues, reds, pinks, yellows. Like rainbow clouds were moving through the forest toward them. Unlike their screamy counterparts, these banshees were mostly quiet, peaceful, and curious. They were born of magic residue. Spell castoff that interacted with the trees in some way to create the beautiful creatures. They were lithe with human-like features. Not dangerous, exuding innocence most of the time. Their eyes sparkled and changed color and their touch was feather soft.
They explored the area around the interns, sensing newness probably. Inexperience, definitely. Three zoned in on Hazel, trilling excitedly when they brushed up against her magic. They circled her, stroking her tentatively. First her hair, ghostly fingers along her nose, her throat, lifting her hands, marvelling at her power no doubt. They were drawn to her like she was nectar, and soon so were all the other banshees.
“What’s going on?” Hazel was giggling. A huge smile on her face. The attention of the Shadow Banshees was pleasant, he remembered. Like a gentle massage everywhere they touched. They gave of themselves as well, sharing their power with witches who were open to it, infusing what they had to empower the witch.
Hazel seemed to be soaking it up, her eyes alight, her cheeks glowing.
“Your power intrigues them. They won’t come for just anyone,” Duke said, unable to contain his own smile. She was so beautiful. His little village girl. His heart ached for her in so many different ways.
She giggled again.
“Is that why you needed Hazel’s blood?” Mahdyia asked, a smile on her face as well.
You couldn’t be in a bad mood around the Shadow Banshees.
“Yes, I knew they’d be drawn to her. She’s like nothing they’ve experienced before, I’m sure.”
“I feel so…strange,” Hazel said. “Like plugged in.”
The Shadow Banshees swirled around her one more time and then started cycling through to the other interns, looking, no doubt, for unique signatures. Duke knew they’d find Chanda’s Chaos and Tate’s Elemental natures almost as fascinating.
“They offer us all a power top-up in their presence. Soak it up. It’s completely natural.”
The Circle, where Hazel was determined to go, gave Healers much power. Power that could be directed for different purposes. But it was manufactured to some degree. Taking from five core witches for decades made the power stale—reliable, sure, but not natural. Duke understood why Hazel’s power would be so damn appealing to her Mother and to the Circle. Her power was a pure source as well, with an intensity that he’d only ever experienced in small bursts out and about in the wild.
The Shadow Banshees circled around him now, making him forget his frustration instantly, stroking his hair, tugging at the tips in a way that was almost orgasmic, tingling his scalp, down his spine. Their fingers trailed along his jaw, soft lips caressed his lightly, chastely. They fluttered their eyelashes at him, gave charming smiles, entwined their fingers with his and whispered things in his ears. Things in a language he would never understand but that made his muscles lose all tension and his brain melt into nothing but peace.
They were mesmerizing. Their power infused into him like a jolt. Giving him a boost he hadn’t realized he needed. He felt recharged. Grateful.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
The Shadow Banshees trilled again in their sing-song way. Then they began to drift away. Circling the trees, the branches, and then up to the canopy, disappearing into the shadows once again.
“That was incredible!” Chanda said. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, breathing rapid.
All the interns looked refreshed and in awe.
“Thank you.” Hazel touched his hand. “That was amazing.”
“Only because you’re amazing.” He smiled at her deepening blush, turned his hand so that their fingers entwined. “There are so many things like this that I could show you. So many wonderful creatures, experiences that I want to introduce to you, if you’ll come with me.”
Her smile dissolved, her eyes darkened. She dropped his hand and stepped away.
And off to the side was her cousin, watching with a frown that mirrored his. She locked eyes with him, something meaningful there, nodded once and then moved off to join Hazel as she turned her back and walked away from him.
17
“Come with me,” Mahdyia said to Hazel, not waiting for an answer. She nodded toward Bridget, who waved her off, then beelined into the woods.
“Where are we going?” Hazel couldn’t help her voice from catching. She felt dizzy after experiencing such a high from the Shadow Banshees only to crash to such a low at the reality that Duke was off limits to her despite what her heart sang. The Banshees had whispered things to her. They’d stroked her inner thoughts, bringing the ones about Duke, her feelings for him, to the forefront, and it had made her so happy at the time. So peaceful. But then reality took hold. Her destiny hung heavy once again around her neck, the necklace from her mother the reminder as she’d meant it to be.
“There’s a Hag who lives in these woods. Bridget told me about her last night. Told me how to find her.”
“So? Why do we want to see a Hag now? Aren’t we headed to their village?” Hazel stopped following. “Honestly, Mads, I’d rather go sit down with the others and eat some lunch.” I’m not feeling good. My heart hurts, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t get those words out. They were too close to the truth, too powerful to deal with.
Mahdyia came back for her, grabbed her hand and pulled her onward. “No, you don’t. We need to see this woman.”
“Why?” Hazel suddenly felt anxious, like her life was spiralling out of control. Too much conflict in her head. “What are you up to?”
“If I tell you, you won’t come.” Mahdyia tugged harder. “And you need to come, so trust me.”
Trust me. That’s what everyone wanted from her. Blind trust. Like they all knew what was best for her. Her mother, Duke, Mahdyia.
“Mads…I don’t—”
Mahdyia stopped abruptly and Hazel crashed into her. She turned, righted Hazel, hands on her upper arms and looked her dead in the eyes. “You need this, Hazel. I know you don’t think you do and I know you’re getting damn sick of everyone telling you what you need but I’m asking you to please indulge me. We need to see this woman. It’s a once in a lifetime experience and since our time is running out for those…”
“Ouch.” Hazel frowned.
Mahdyia rolled her eyes but not in a harsh way. She took Hazel’s hands into hers and began to stroke her skin like she had when they were little. “Remember that time we rigged up all those water balloons in the ballroom?”
The memory of that day flashed into Hazel’s mind like it was yesterday. “Oh yeah, how could I forget?” Her mother had a big gala that night. The Board and all of the hospital’s benefactors had been set to arrive any minute and Mahdyia and Hazel had decided the place needed some color. “Mother’s black and white affair.”
Mahdyia was beaming, her eyes sparkling. “All those women and men dressed in expensive gowns and tuxes, looking like a million bucks with their hairstyles and makeup.”
“And wigs!” Hazel snorted.
“Remember how angry your mother was? How furiously she scolded?”
The balloons had been tethered by the magic of ten year-olds, hundreds of colorful globes floating up high enough that no one noticed until it was too late. It had
looked so pretty, for the minutes they were suspended.
“Oh yes, it was so scary.”
“Terrifying.”
“She was soaking wet!”
“You’d think some of those old crones would have melted or something with the way she acted.” Mahdyia continued to stroke her hand. “You remember you didn’t want to do it?”
Hazel chuckled. “You were the idea girl. I was just a soldier.”
Mahdyia hugged her, then pulled away again. “I didn’t regret it. Even when Mother grounded me from magic for a whole month.”
“Neither did I,” Hazel whispered. “It was worth the punishment. I giggled over that memory for months.”
“So did I.”
“Once in a lifetime. You can’t get that look of shock more than once.” Hazel chuckled softly.
“No regrets.” Mahdyia nodded. “I missed you though, Hazel. She wouldn’t let me see you for that whole month too. You remember that?”
Hazel frowned. There had been so many months where Hazel had been immersed in studies that she couldn’t recall a punishment involving not being able to see Mahdyia. “No, I don’t.”
“She used to do that a lot. Keep me from seeing you. She knew it was a true punishment for me. To be separated from you.”
Were there tears in her eyes?
“Mads?”
“I would never do anything to hurt you, Hazel, and I would never put you in danger. I think I’ve proven that to you over the years. Trust me on this. I need you to come with me to see this Hag. Please.” Mahdyia let her go, turned and continued walking.
Hazel watched her for a minute, sighed, then followed. Whatever she was up to wouldn’t kill Hazel, of that she was certain. So what if they had a little adventure together? Like Mahdyia had said, those would be coming to an end soon enough—better to soak them up while she could and give herself some happy memories to take with her in the Circle.
And that thought, not for the first time on this trip, made her heart heavy. It wasn’t just Duke she’d be losing. Her cousin, who had been her only friend for much of her life, would be off limits to her too.
It bothered her that she hadn’t known about the punishments Mahdyia had endured. She knew that her mother didn’t approve of the trouble they’d gotten into when together and that trouble had usually been at Mahdyia’s prompting, but Hazel had been a willing participant, eager for a little fun after so much work. She hadn’t known her mother blamed Mahdyia solely for it. Keeping them apart because she was a bad influence, no doubt. Hazel wasn’t surprised. Her mother had disapproved of anything and everything that distracted Hazel from the serious business of preparing for the Circle.
But her mother couldn’t be around all the time. She was an important woman with many things and people demanding her attention. When she was away or preoccupied, Hazel always took advantage, seeking Mahdyia out for a little adventure. Goddess, she would miss that.
If only things didn’t have to be the way they were destined to be.
And that was the first time she’d ever given thought to something like that. If only… She shook her head, trying to clear the negativity away. She couldn’t let her thoughts get tangled up. She didn’t want to travel down a dark path and mire herself in depression. Destiny was destiny and hers was set, right?
She rubbed the heel of her palm against her chest, trying to ease the ache there. If that was true, if she had no other choice but follow the destiny she knew, then why did it hurt so much all of a sudden? Why was it feeling like a loss?
She got herself moving, catching up with her cousin after a few minutes of hard trekking.
Mahdyia was quiet the whole way. No bantering or chatting, not even a snide comment here or there. She was lost in thought and so was Hazel. The noises from the forest soothed her. The birds had a unique chatter that sounded like tinkling bells and whoops of joy. The breeze rustled leaves like a shiver down the spine. The earthy smell filled her head with warmth and calm. Even without the Shadow Banshees, she found this place to be so peaceful. One by one, step by step, she was able to let some of her angst and sorrow go, getting lost in what the forest had to offer. She clasped Mahdyia’s hand and entwined her fingers. Neither of them said a word, they just kept walking.
“What’s that?” Hazel felt the brush of magic, old magic, on a gust of wind. The trees were thicker, not as huge and imposing but more densely packed. Hanging from the branches were talismans. Hundreds of them.
Mahdyia reached up to stroke the feather of a lower hanging one. “It’s a ward.”
It was a bird skull, bleached, on a twine rope that was coated in spots with what looked like blood. There were beautiful long feathers attached, black, gray, striking white, vibrant red, green, even some that looked like peacock feathers. There were smaller bones that acted like chimes, clanking together in the breeze.
Hazel shivered. There was an ominous feel about the place.
“We’re almost there,” Mahdyia said. “Over this way. Bridget said that the wards would lead the way.”
“What are the wards trying to keep out, I wonder?” Hazel reached up to touch one as she passed under it. She felt a jolt of magic. Powerful human witch. “What kind of Hag is this woman?”
Mahdyia didn’t answer.
“Mads?”
She disappeared around a tree and when Hazel caught up, she almost ran right into her. There was a cottage, straight out of a fairy tale…the horror kind, not the princess kind.
“Is it made out of gingerbread?” Hazel asked, eyes wide as she took everything in.
The house had to be one room, an oddly shaped stone bricked rectangle with a thatched roof and a stone chimney that was smoking. The door was arched, made of wood panels with a stained glass window shaped like a star at the top. There were two other windows, one on either side of the door that were too grimy or sooty to see through.
The talismans were everywhere, rattling constantly as they stood there staring.
“Mads, why are we here?”
Before she could answer, the door creaked open. Very ominous. A shiver ran through Hazel’s body. Mahdyia reached out and grabbed her hand again. As silly as it was, she didn’t resist the gesture.
“Do we go in?” Hazel whispered.
Mahdyia looked at her, gulped, then nodded. “We came this far.”
“Girls, in or out, make your choice.” In a blink a woman appeared and then disappeared at the door. It stood widely open now.
“Did you—”
“Yeah.” Mahdyia squeezed her hand. “Love you, Haz. Don’t kill me.”
“What?” Hazel was too shocked to register that Mahdyia was leading her in, moving too fast for her to object.
Once inside, Hazel was blinded by the darkness. She had to blink away the spots that floated in front of her. Only candles appeared to be lit along with a fire in the fireplace. The air was stifling. Heavy with incense. Mahdyia sneezed twice, then a third time.
“Make a wish,” a croaky voice said. “Make a wish, make a wish, make a wish.” A crow stood on a tall T-shaped perch moving from side to side, flapping its wings in agitation. Another talisman dangled from the wooden arm, rattling as the crow moved. “Make a wish, make a wish, make a wish.”
“Oh hush, Gilbert. Honestly, you are a nuisance.” A woman came out of the shadows, bent over with a huge hump on her back, her long white hair dangling almost to the floor. She moved slowly, aided by a cane that also had a talisman, sparkling crystals dancing in the firelight and swaying with each of her moments. “Girls, welcome. Take a seat.”
Hazel looked around and noted two stools off to the side. She grabbed both and positioned them across from where the old lady was now lowering herself into an easy chair, which totally did not suit the rest of the cabin. White leather with plush looking cushions, it took up almost half the small space even without the recliner portion out.
“Pretty girls,” Gilbert croaked, clicking back and forth on his perch. “Pretty witches.”
“You’re American,” Mads said. “No accent.”
“Aye,” the old woman winked. “I’m a transplant. Came out here for the trees. I just couldn’t leave them. Or maybe it was for a man. Can’t remember.”
“You’re a Storm Hag?” Hazel was still trying to piece together what they were doing there.
The old woman looked at her, studying with a critical eye. “You’re carrying a heavy burden, child.” She leaned forward as much as she could. “You’re weighed down by it.”
“A burden?”
“Her destiny,” Mahdyia said matter-of-factly.
“Ah, destiny. Yes, yes, quite the burden.”
“Destiny is what you make it,” Gilbert squawked.
Hazel snapped her gaze to the bird. “What did he just say?” She could swear she’d heard that before…somewhere.
The old woman was out of the chair then, snatching Hazel’s hand. She pulled Hazel forward, startling her almost off the stool as she pressed her forehead to Hazel’s and clasped both of her hands. Her skin was so soft, hands wrinkled and also very strong, gripping her like an iron fist. “Hush, child.”
Hazel froze. The old woman smelled like campfire and cigar smoke, musky in a way that wasn’t totally unpleasant. Her breath was sweet though and it washed over Hazel as she spoke. “You’re here for a reason. A very important reason.”
“I am?”
The woman squeezed her hands harder. “You’re meant to learn sacrifice. Devotion. To commit yourself to the Healers. Born of the Great Mother…”
“Great Mother”—squawk—“Great Mother,” the bird chimed.
Oh goddess, Hazel shivered, familiar words coming out of the old woman’s mouth. Her prophecy, the one etched in stone. “You’re a Mystic.” Soothsayer, mystic, fortune teller. A human possessing the magic of portent and prophecy. Hazel could wring her cousin’s neck.
“Hush, child,” the bird said.
“Be silent,” the old woman hissed.
Hazel wasn’t sure if she was talking to the bird or to her.
The Witches of White Willow Page 14
