Witches of Ash and Ruin

by E. Latimer

  “Stay out of it.” She marched down the hall, fully aware Cora was following. “It’s family stuff.”

  “Family stuff, like you’re trying to figure out what your gran hasn’t told you?”

  Meiner paused in the doorway. She’d been about to slam the door, but she could hear the smirk in Cora’s voice. She turned and glared at her. “Get out of my face, Cora.”

  “You should be more careful.” Cora’s smile was sly. “After all, she obviously doesn’t trust you enough to tell you everything. And now here you are, sneaking through her stuff like a—”

  Meiner didn’t let her get any further. A riptide current of anger crashed through her, sucking away all her calm. She lunged forward, fingers tangling in the fabric of Cora’s sweater.

  Cora’s startled cry was cut off as Meiner slammed her back into the wall. “Shut. Your. Mouth. Cora.”

  Her temper was like something alive, pulsing in her chest. Calling for release. Oh, how she wanted to release it.

  Instead she stayed where she was, frozen, fingers wrapped around Cora’s collar, pressing her into the wall.

  Cora’s eyes were huge in her pale face, and Meiner almost released her. Almost backed up and apologized. A wave of horror hit her. She hadn’t even tried to fight her temper this time, hadn’t even realized she was about to explode.

  “Think you’re intimidating, don’t you?” Cora hissed up at her. “You’ve no idea what you’re dealing with, Meiner King.”

  Her regret was gone as abruptly as it had come, and Meiner shoved Cora into the wall a little harder. “I know well enough you want this coven. You think you should be inheriting it.”

  She was intensely aware of several things. First that Cora was trembling under her hands; second that Cora’s eyes had dropped from Meiner’s gaze to her lips and back several times now. Meiner knew Cora, knew how she thought, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when the other girl reached up and grabbed her shoulders, crushing her lips into Meiner’s.

  Meiner shook her off. “Are you serious right now?”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” Cora’s expression was glittering, malicious. The rage surged again, making Meiner’s limbs tremble, making her insides feel hot. She growled and drove her fist forward, knuckles crashing into the wall beside Cora’s left ear.

  “What the fuck, Meiner?”

  Pain blazed through her hand and up her arm. There was a fist-sized dent in the wall beside Cora’s head, and shame rushed in to replace the rage as fast as it had come.

  This wasn’t her house. She’d have to pay for that.

  Cora’s expression was defiant, but Meiner thought she saw a glimmer of hurt there. “You think you’re better than your gran and me. But you’re the same.” She pushed away from the wall, back stiff. “No, you’re worse, because you won’t admit it.”

  Meiner watched her, speechless, as Cora flipped her blond hair over her shoulder and stalked away, slamming her bedroom door. For a moment she stayed there, seething.

  The worst part was that Cora was right. These days she lost her temper at the drop of a hat, at the slightest provocation from Cora or Gran.

  When she looked up, her stomach surged. Dayna was standing in the hallway, her face blank with shock.

  “Why didn’t you knock earlier?” Meiner hissed, her voice made savage by the anger burning through her.

  Dayna’s expression went dark. “I did. You didn’t hear me the first time. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  She disappeared back downstairs, and Meiner groaned. She slumped against the wall, hand throbbing, the edge of the death card poking her in the thigh like a grim admonition.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  DAYNA

  Dayna stared out at the garden from her spot on the front steps, still fuming. Seeing Meiner’s true temper had been shocking, and having a piece of it directed at her, however small, was not something she was going to put up with. She had half a mind to march back in there and demand an apology.

  She wasn’t sure exactly what happened, since she’d been around the corner. She’d heard some of the exchange—the louder parts, really—and the pause, and then Meiner’s shout of disbelief, and the crash of a fist going through the wall.

  Part of her was burning with curiosity, but honestly it didn’t matter, did it? There was no excuse for the way Meiner had behaved toward Cora, and toward her, not to mention the property damage, and after Yemi and Reagan had invited them into their home….

  There was a thud from behind her, and Dayna jumped, turning to see Meiner in the doorway, her face flushed with anger. She marched past without a word, stalking across the driveway toward her car.

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Dayna sprang off the steps and followed her. She wasn’t going to get away from this that easily. “Where are you going?”

  “Away from here. Away from her.”

  “You can’t just storm off after that. You punched a hole in the wall, Meiner. You think Yemi can pay for that?”

  “I’ll pay for it.”

  “You should go in there and apologize.”

  “Right now, if I go back in there, I’ll punch a hole in her face.” Meiner turned, marching across the driveway toward the cars, kicking up bits of gravel beneath her boots.

  Dayna hurried after her, anger and disbelief making her sputter. “Y-you can’t just leave…Meiner! What about the vision? What about the research? We still haven’t even figured out where the ruins are, and we’ve researched every historical sight in Wexford.” She skidded to a halt, shoes slipping on the gravel, as Meiner yanked open the door and slid into the driver seat.

  Dayna huffed and climbed into the passenger seat.

  “What are you doing?” Meiner flapped a hand at her. “Can we do this later? The ruins aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Yeah, well, me neither.” Dayna folded her arms over her chest, scowling at her. “How can you be this selfish?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me! Who do you think is next on the killer’s list? Exactly how many witches do you think are in Carman? You may not care about your coven, but I do. I’ve been with those women since kindergarten. They’re my family, and I won’t let them—” Dayna cut herself off abruptly, annoyed to see Meiner didn’t appear to be listening anymore. She was staring at Dayna, eyes glazed over, mouth hanging open.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Kindergarten!” Meiner’s face was flushed suddenly, her eyes glittering.

  “What?” Dayna frowned as Meiner turned in her seat and started the engine without another word. “Wait, where are we going? What the hell was that about?”

  “I just figured it out.”

  “Figured what out? The ruins? Meiner—” she protested as Meiner gunned the engine, sending up clouds of dust as they shot down the driveway.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  DAYNA

  At the first stoplight, Meiner let the car idle, and Dayna turned to look at her. “You think you know where the ruins are, don’t you?” She grimaced in the rearview mirror at the cloud of exhaust gathering behind them. Meiner’s car seemed to be held together mainly by spells and duct tape.

  At some point they would need to talk about what just happened, but right now she was happy enough to change the subject.

  “I just realized…when I was in kindergarten my school went on a field trip to Raven Point. There were the ruins of this building in the woods beside it, and we got in trouble for playing in it. It’s not a tourist spot, which is why I didn’t think of it. It’s just…there.” Meiner’s previous anger seemed forgotten; she looked excited, her face flushed.

  “Ah,” Dayna said. Silence settled between them again.

  They rode for a moment without speaking, the rattling of the engine loud in the quiet. Dayna stared out the window at the green countryside whipping past, trying to concentrate on the thought of the ruins and not on the tense silence between them.

  Finally Meiner darted a
sideways look at her. “Look, I’m sorry. I was pissed off at Cora, not you.”

  “You still blew up at me.” Dayna gave her an even stare. “And you punched the fucking wall.”

  “I know, that was shitty and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Meiner grimaced. “She just…makes me crazy.”

  Dayna tugged at a lock of hair, staring straight ahead. This wasn’t over. Using Cora as an excuse simply wasn’t going to cut it, not if Meiner and her coven were going to work with them for any extended period of time.

  “Fine,” she said shortly, and then added, “Tell me you at least found something when you were searching your grandmother’s room.”

  Meiner shrugged, gaze still fixed on the road. “I dunno, nothing definitive. Old bones she used to do magic with, some book I didn’t even get to look at before Cora burst in, and a seriously creepy statue….”

  “What statue?” Dayna waited while Meiner pulled out her phone and handed it over. She squinted down at the picture, which showed a statue of a man sitting cross-legged, the head of a one-eyed goat on his shoulders. She grimaced. “What the hell is that thing?”

  “No idea. I didn’t stick around to google it.”

  “Maybe you should.” Dayna pulled out her own phone, opened a search, and typed half man, half goat with one eye. Meiner made a disbelieving noise, but the first thing that came up was a Wikipedia page titled List of one-eyed creatures in mythology and fiction.

  She showed it to Meiner. “See? Told you. Any idea what god your gran used to worship?”

  Meiner shook her head, glancing quickly at the list before turning back to the road. “The second one…I’ve heard that name somewhere.”

  “Balor.” Dayna bit her lip, reading through the information. “You better hope it’s not him.” She cleared her throat. “The deadly one. Balor of the evil eye. God of drought and blight.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound great.”

  “Maybe she used to worship him.” Dayna frowned at the illustration of a fiery-eyed demon with goat horns. “We already know she did black magic, but that doesn’t mean she’s doing it now.” She paused. “Though the fact she brought it doesn’t exactly bode well.”

  “It could be something that was just in her trunks. She hasn’t cleaned them out in years,” Meiner said. “We don’t have enough proof yet.”

  “Well, until we can get proof, we can’t do anything.” Dayna slipped her phone back into her pocket. “And finding the ruins is a bit more urgent.” She glanced out the window. They were driving along the coast now.

  “Maybe we should call the others. You know, let them know where we’re going.”

  “Let’s get there first.” Meiner glanced in the rearview mirror, and Dayna could guess what she was thinking. She didn’t want to face Yemi and Reagan right now, and probably didn’t want to deal with Cora either.

  Dayna focused on the road ahead of them and pressed her lips together tightly. She’d leave it up to Meiner to do the right thing and apologize when they got back.

  When they pulled up in front of the low fence that hemmed in the forest, the parking lot was empty. “This is it.”

  Dayna slid out, banging the door shut behind her. A patchwork quilt of sunbeams filtered through the trees, painting them both in patterns of dappled light as Dayna followed Meiner down the uneven dirt trail. In the partial shade the morning air was biting, and she pulled her fingers into the sleeves of her sweater. Neither of the girls spoke as they walked, listening to the sounds of the birds in the trees above them. Dayna felt jumpy, her pulse picking up with every crackle of underbrush.

  When the trail was wide enough, Meiner slowed, falling into step with her. “There’s no one here. No cars, no footprints. Try to relax.”

  Dayna gave her a brief look and then glanced back down at the path, stepping over a thick root. Every part of the forest reminded her of the vision. Her nerves felt like bowstrings stretched tight, ready to break at every rustle in the bushes.

  Just walking the path was bringing it all back. The distant, dreamlike memories that couldn’t possibly be hers. The feeling of holding the book. The connection she’d felt to the horned woman, like she’d known her from somewhere.

  All impossible.

  “Wait, I remember this. It’s just ahead.” Meiner quickened her pace, and Dayna had to hurry to keep up with her long-legged stride.

  “I don’t see— Whoa.”

  When they came around the bend, it was not Cernunnos who waited for them.

  There was nothing dreamlike about the forest anymore. Dayna was totally and completely in the here and now as they stepped into the small sunlit clearing in the woods.

  Dayna breathed in deeply, suddenly hyperaware of the birdsong in the trees above them, the smell of pine, the wind rushing past her. It was all so real.

  And so was the moss-covered tumble of stones set in the center of a cluster of oak trees.

  The temple was here.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  MEINER

  It had been years since she’d been here. She’d forgotten the way the church seemed to hunker in the middle of the path, crumbled walls sticking up in points like a jagged stone crown. It was half swallowed by the hungry forest, wrapped in vines and covered in moss, as if it had emerged from the ground looking that way.

  They moved closer, approaching the church as if it were a wild cat crouched in the center of the forest path. Meiner half expected to see something moving in the empty, green-framed windows, but it was still. The birdsong continued, and crows called to one another in the branches above them. It made her feel a little better. This was not the dead quiet that had fallen in the apple orchard before the candles snuffed out, before the horrible many-voiced entity spoke through Cora.

  There was nothing here.

  “This is it.” Dayna clutched her arms as if she was cold, and Meiner could see her hands shaking. She thought about reaching out, touching her shoulder.

  But shame kept surging through Meiner. She’d been so stupid.

  Dayna moved into the entrance of the church and let out a shaky breath. “It’s not here.”

  The walls cast the inside of the ruins partly into shadow, and Meiner moved slowly into the center, footsteps absorbed by the soft moss

  carpet.

  Dayna traced a hand over the stone wall. She was staring at a group of symbols that had been carved there, strange, curling signs that Meiner remembered from the vision. They looked like things she knew—the shield knot and the triquetra—but they differed in subtle ways. Like someone had been trying to draw them from memory and got some of the lines wrong.

  Dayna hunkered down to examine the base of the wall. “Here’s the Butcher’s mark. And this is the one that means Lugh. I don’t know what the rest are.”

  “Let’s get a picture.” Meiner pulled her phone out and snapped a picture of the wall. Dayna stood from her crouched position, staggering slightly. Meiner caught her arm, more out of instinct than anything, and Dayna looked startled. A flush crept over her face.

  Meiner let go quickly, but Dayna only mumbled, “Thanks,” and brushed awkwardly at her sweater. Then she stopped and blurted out, “What was it Cora did that made you so mad?”

  Meiner blinked, then scrubbed a hand across her face. Just remembering it made the anger flare to life again, but she tried to shove it back down and keep her voice even. “She…kissed me.” It was almost gratifying to see Dayna’s mouth drop open.

  “Oh, I…Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.”

  Meiner shrugged. “Neither was I. But that’s probably what she wanted, to shock me.”

  When Dayna spoke again her voice was quiet. “I get why you were so mad. If you didn’t want it, it’s not okay.”

  “I didn’t”—Meiner paused, face burning—“want it, I mean. But all the same, I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

  Dayna’s mouth twitched upward, just for a second. “Yeah, or remodeled the wall.”

  Meiner grinned, and
a beat of silence stretched between them, less awkward than before. After a second, though, Meiner realized the birds had stopped chirping.

  From somewhere far away there came the crunch of underbrush. Dayna stiffened.

  The back of Meiner’s neck was beginning to prickle. “We should go.”

  She was moving for the door, when Dayna said, “Hold on a minute.” Meiner turned to see her crouched near the spot in the floor she’d tripped over. One of the moss-covered stones seemed to have crumbled slightly, revealing a sliver of darkness. “I think it’s hollow underneath.”

  Meiner watched, surprised, as Dayna started tugging at the rock. After a second Meiner shrugged and hunkered down beside her. With two of them shoving and pulling at the slippery stone, it finally gave way, and Dayna fell over onto her backside with a startled shout.

  “Whoa, you all right?” Meiner offered a hand, trying not to grin, and Dayna rolled her eyes before allowing herself to be tugged to her feet. “Look at that.”

  There was a hole in the floor, a hollowed-out slot that had been dug beneath the ruins. Inside was a dirty burlap sack.

  “Damn. Doesn’t look like anything.” Still, Meiner leaned forward and plucked at the cloth, and then blinked, startled at its weight. “Hold on, I think there might be something wrapped in this.”

  Gingerly she eased the bundle of cloth out of the dirt, setting it down on the stone floor between them. Dayna hovered eagerly as Meiner tugged at the edges, trying to discern where it could be opened without damaging whatever was inside.

  When the fabric finally fell away, Meiner’s heart stopped. Behind her Dayna let out a gasp. It was a book, bound in rich brown leather, closed at one side with a heavy golden clasp. There was a symbol etched on the front, the same spiky-edged rune that they’d seen over and over these last few weeks. The Butcher’s mark.

  Dayna reached a shaking hand toward the clasp.

  Meiner’s concentration was so centered on the book, her vision so laser-focused, that she didn’t react in time. She didn’t see the black shape hurtle itself through the entrance of the church, its mouth open in a silent snarl, until it was on top of them.