by LJ Swallow
“Cool. Thanks,” I stammer. I know.
He winks at Maeve and pulls out his phone, before turning away. As we step back into the sunshine, he begins a conversation.
“This is awesome news!” says Maeve and she clutches the candleholder to her chest.
“Maeve, don’t get your hopes up. The locals might not have found everything. Other witches could’ve come into the house after Tobias left and taken anything magical.”
I hate that my words wipe away the sunshine in her expression. “I didn’t think about that.”
“But maybe not,” I say encouragingly.
Her mouth turns down. “You’re right—witches would’ve taken anything important. Blackwoods.”
Annoyed I’ve broken her hope, I envelop Maeve in my arms. “There will be something, somewhere,” I murmur into her hair. “The Winterfalls knew you existed. They would ensure their magic’s survival, which means leaving something for you.”
"I have the runestones," she says, face miserable. "What if that's all there is?"
"Then we figure out what to do with them," I say with over-exaggerated cheerfulness.
We walk away from the house to where Tobias sits in the car and stares vacantly forward. Do I feel bad for him or glad he had to confront this? Maeve tells me he’s paid for his crimes in a multitude of ways and she’s right. I'm not Tobias’s greatest fan, but the saddest thing about this guy is I don’t think he’ll ever be happy. The only time I see a hint of anything but a protective wall is when he’s with Maeve, but a curse is a curse, and for a reason.
Maeve leans down to speak to Tobias as he lowers the window.
I check my phone—will we have time to check the records and leave? Or are we stuck here tonight?
Chapter Thirty-Nine
MAEVE
The museum I visited with school was a large institution, containing several maze-like floors which held the history of almost all civilisations. The museum in Kentwick is housed in a small building beside a Visitor’s Centre and focuses only on local history. Jamie takes a genuine interest in everything on display, but all I’m interested in is the Winterfalls.
Tobias remains taciturn but was eager to drive here away from the estate. I stand beside him in the little room crammed with glass cabinets and scenic photographs on the wall, as we look at the one containing items from my family's history.
The young woman who approached us shortly after we arrived stands alongside and enthusiastically talks about Viking connections to the area and the theory this family date back to those times. I don’t listen to much, but Tobias keeps his focus on the long, dark-haired girl who's wearing a navy blue dress suit with a name badge. She’s Rebecca, although I can't imagine enough people work here that she'd need a badge. Rebecca keeps sliding her eyes between Tobias and the items in the case and pink dots appear on her cheeks when he catches her eye.
I'd be jealous but I don't have the right, and I know what he's doing. We won't get any closer to touching the cabinet's contents unless somebody persuades her, and a pneuma vampire’s charm is the first move.
“The Winterfall family date back hundreds of years,” she says. “That’s why we have their history on display.”
I'm disappointed by most items displayed, but a small, brown book interests me. A black ribbon holds the ageing leather-bound book together and the corners are singed.
I need to look at this.
Several also-singed parchments are held behind the glass in metal frames and I peer at them. Nothing magical-looking—house deeds and lists of names.
The other interesting item is a small silver box, the size of a large match box, blackened at the edges by soot and resting on the white display cloth. The box is etched with letters in a language similar to the card my mother gave me. “What's that box?" I ask. "I heard some items were found in the fire.”
“Oh, yes.” She smiles at me. “Quite the curiosity. There're no hinges or any way to open it, and it's solid, so we don't think this is a box.”
"Then what?" I ask.
"Perhaps a family heirloom dating back hundreds of years. A trinket maybe? The words you can see are old Norse and the translations mentions family. Such a shame nobody came forward to claim the items.”
“Nobody at all?” asks Tobias.
She blinks at him, the silent guy whose aura drags her in.
“Everything found in the fire is here?” I ask.
“We catalogued everything. You’re welcome to look at the records.” She chews her lip and I glance at Tobias. She's holding something back.
"You must have more to tell us, Rebecca," says Tobias in his most captivating voice.
She blinks. "The book and box are new acquisitions. Steve up at the estate discovered them when pulling down the house."
"Who else knows about the book and box?" I ask, daring to hope they’re significant.
“Only our local historian—Cyrus James. He was a Winterfall family friend too and took some records after the fire.” She points to the framed paper. “I'm excited to show him these new acquisitions, the next time he visits."
“Doesn't he live locally?” I ask.
“He did but works away now. Cyrus has a historical research position at the university in Manchester.”
Tobias chews his lip as he leans forward to look at the glass. “A local? Are his family here?”
Witch.
I blink at Tobias’s word. She is?
No. This man might be.
“Do you have his number? I’d love to chat to Cyrus about my relatives,” I say.
“His name is on the university’s website,” says Rebecca. “You could send him a message?”
Tobias makes a humph sound and crosses to Jamie before leaning in to say something. “He’s not a history fan,” I say.
But Rebecca is a Tobias fan—that’s obvious from the way she’s watching him.
Come back.
He glances over his shoulder at me but doesn’t respond.
“Excuse me,” I say to Rebecca and cross to him. “What’s wrong, Tobias? I want to look at the book in the case and take the box. These are new to the museum and nobody from Dominion or Confederacy has them yet. That might change if we walk away. You need to persuade Rebecca to open the display case.”
He arches a brow. “Mental magic? Even if I did, how would she explain the missing items?”
I lower my voice. “Make her forget we were here.”
Jamie looks at where Rebecca polishes away our fingerprints on the glass with a small white cloth. “She’d be in trouble.”
“Tough,” I say, and he gapes at me.
“No. Maeve’s right.” Tobias pushes a hand through his hair. “I’ll persuade Rebecca to unlock the cabinets. Wait here.”
Either Rebecca is weak-minded or already captivated enough, because she opens the cabinet for him straightaway. I’m uncomfortable, despite telling Jamie ‘tough luck for her’, but this is the only connection to my family’s magic that I have besides the strange stones.
My hands tremble as Rebecca hands me the small book, and I run my fingers across the silver embossed runes on the cover. I’ve studied the ones in the pouch my mother left me enough times to recognise some match—this book is definitely significant.
Resting the book on top of the cabinet, I untie the ribbon as Tobias chats to Rebecca.
Jamie stands beside me and we both watch with excitement as I turn to the first page.
“Oh.” My disappointment comes out in a single word but sends frustrated tears to my eyes. “This isn’t English.”
“Or Latin.” Jamie turns a second page.
The words are black-inked, faded to brown in places, with runic symbols and crude illustrations between them on some pages. The shape of the letters is strange too. In English class at my old school, I read medieval texts unsuccessfully, but these words don’t match that either.
“Must be Old Norse,” says Jamie.
Of course. “Can you read Old Nors
e?”
“I’m clever, Maeve, but not a linguist. I’ve never needed to learn.” He takes my hand and squeezes. “Until now.”
“But how long would that take?” I ask in frustration. “We don’t know how long we have before the attack!”
“A dictionary?” he suggests.
I’m defeated, too caught up in my excitement the answer was within reach. Jamie’s optimism should help but it’s forced. We can’t translate this book quickly and easily.
“Professor Kendal—she teaches Magical History. Maybe she can help?” he suggests.
“We can’t ask her! Nobody can know who I am.”
Jamie wrinkles his nose and closes the book before taking it from me. “We’ll figure this out, Maeve. We always do.”
My excitement ebbs further as he pushes the book into his bag, and I reach out for the silver box. The solid metal is cool beneath my hands, lighter than I expected, but I don't sense anything magical.
I sigh and pass the box to Jamie.
His eyes widen and my hope lifts again. "Can you feel something, Jamie?"
"This is a Hermes Box," he whispers. I look at him blankly. "Magically sealed and by Winterfall magic, I'll bet. They're used to store important items, but at a risk because sometimes they can't be opened again."
"But I could open this?" I suggest.
"We'll definitely try."
"And can you feel anything from holding the box?" I ask.
“No. I want to concentrate properly, and I can’t focus here.”
I nod and tuck the box into my pocket. Rebecca’s footsteps sound as she walks from the room and Tobias appears at my shoulder.
“We’ve the book and box,” I say.
“What about the framed parchments?”
“We can’t take everything.”
“Most of the papers here are photographs also in the Winterfall History book,” says Jamie. “We can leave those.”
“Where did Rebecca go?” I ask Tobias.
“She hungry and wants her lunch break,” he says with a small smile. “She’s locked up the museum for an hour to go into town.”
“How do we get out?” asks Jamie with a frown.
I laugh as Tobias rolls his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, as he holds up a bunch of three keys.
Chapter Forty
MAEVE
The moment I climb into the car, I pull the silver box from my pocket. Instead of taking the front passenger seat, Jamie climbs in beside me and pushes hair from his face.
"I want to open this," I announce.
"Now?" asks Tobias and shifts around in the driver's seat.
"I need to know what's in here, now." I catch his glance at Jamie. "Don't look at each other like that. I can open the box."
Jamie wrinkles his nose. "But you don't know any spells, Maeve."
Jaw tense at his negativity, I dive a hand into my small bag and pull out the pouch with the runes.
"Why do you have those?" asks Jamie. "They should stay in the academy."
"No," I retort. "They should stay with me at all times."
"She's right, Jamie." Tobias nods at me. "Maeve doesn't know a spell but the runes might help because they're Winterfall. Do any match the symbols on the box?"
My mouth drops open as the non-witch gives the obvious answer. "Yes!"
Immediately, I tip the stones into my lap and push them around until all the runes are upright then squint at the tiny inscription on the box. "The writing is too small and squashed together," I complain.
Jamie holds the box close to his face too.
"I'll help." Tobias moves from the front of the car and slides onto the seat the other side of me to Jamie. His leg presses against mine in the tight space and my stomach immediately lurches as my body reacts to his touch. "Vampire eyesight."
Carefully taking the box from me, he studies the engraving in silence and glances between the box and the runes. Brow furrowed in concentration, he reaches out to take a rune from my lap and his fingers brush my thighs. He could be touching my naked skin because there's an immediate ache for his hands on me.
He tenses and I side glance him. Tobias's frown grows and he attempts to shift away from me.
"What's wrong?" asks Jamie and leans forward to look at him.
"This one," says Tobias gruffly and he hands the box and rune to me.
"What do I do now?" I ask.
Jamie shrugs, which is bloody unhelpful. "Focus on imagining the box opens. Hold the rune."
"Hold Jamie's hand too," puts in Tobias. "He strengthens your magic."
If anybody passing sees the weirdos squashed together in a small hatchback car, in the middle of a town carpark, they could make guesses what we're doing, but would never make the correct one.
Witches, a vampire, and ancient magic.
I shake my head at my silly thoughts and wind my fingers into Jamie's. His touch affects me too, but in a gentler way than Tobias's sudden intensity. With Jamie, the energy passing between us connects and doesn't consume in the way the other guys do. I'm all for passion and losing myself, but some days I crave Jamie's tenderness and intuitive touch.
I draw on Jamie's magic energy and keep my focus on the hard box inside my curled fingers. What if I have a vision and freak out in the middle of the quiet carpark?
Tears sting my eyes when nothing happens—the box warms with my body heat but nothing more. I slump back against the seatback and try to hide my disappointment.
"There could be a spell in the book?" says Jamie as he moves his hand from mine to hug me around the shoulders. “We just need to find the correct one.”
"Right," I reply with defeat and not enthusiasm.
"If this box contains something important, I'm sure we'll open it," says Tobias.
I look to him and the tears build. Tobias revealed I'm from a powerful witch family and I return to their estate, hoping for help and answers. Nothing. I find something belonging to the family, which could've been left for me.
Nothing again.
"Maeve. Have faith in yourself," says Tobias softly.
He places a hand over mine curled around the box and I jerk. Not because he touches me, but because the box suddenly heats. With a yell I yank my hand away and open my palm, convinced I'll find a burn mark. The box lands in the car footwell.
"Maeve?" asks Jamie as Tobias leans down to take the box.
My palm looks no different.
The tiny writing glows brightly, the colour of molten silver against the dull and I gingerly take it from him with my fingertips. As I do, a line appears around the box's centre, spreading and joining to separate the metal into two parts.
To create a lid.
Heart thumping, I push a fingernail beneath the gap and prise the lid.
Inside, I find a crude stone pendant with a thin, black leather cord threaded through a hole at the top. I carefully take the necklace in case the leather strap has perished and turn the stone over in my palm.
A rune.
Chapter Forty-One
MAEVE
Alaric leans over the book, standing with one hand either side on the kitchen table as he reads. My slim hope he understands Old Norse evaporates as his brow tugs deep. He flicks through with more force than I’d like for the aged pages, and I fight the instinct to snatch the book from him.
The heavy curtains are drawn and Andrei stands in front of the kitchen door; Jamie and Tobias sit around the rectangular wood table too. Matt and Amelia are here today, but Izzy and Saul are away.
Tobias maintains a distance from Alaric. He isn't rude to Tobias, but we still haven't told him about Tobias's true past. Tobias wants to choose a good time to talk to Alaric, but how could there ever be one? Does Alaric notice Tobias's reticence or how subdued he is since we returned from the estate?
Snapping the book closed, Alaric gives a rare and tiny smile. “Once we figure this out, they’re fucked.”
“Who are?” asks Jamie.
“The Blackwoods. Ma
eve could take the lot of them down.”
My heart lurches. “I don’t think I can! There’s one of me and a lot more of them.”
“Cut the power at its source.” He smiles. “Nikolai has gone. Anastasia next.”
“And the Blackwood elders?” retorts Jamie. “They’re alive.”
“And weaker. We can sort that issue, once we’ve dealt with the academy attack.” He looks to me. “I doubt Dominion will march in with an army. Not yet, anyway. Let’s hope they make their move sooner rather than later.”
“Oh, yes, let’s,” says Andrei sarcastically. “I can’t wait.”
Tobias finally speaks. “I think this will happen sooner. The Dominion must know about the disturbance beneath the academy.”
“And won’t want to miss the big reveal,” comes Andrei’s sarcasm again.
“Andrei...”
He pulls a face and stares at his shoes. I sense what’s prompting his cynicism: his mother will be there and could attack him again.
Alaric steps back and crosses his arms. “Is this all you managed to find at the house?”
I glance at Jamie. “Yes. A historian has more, apparently.”
“Who?” asks Alaric sharply. “Witch or human?”
“Human? He’s called Cyrus James. If he’s a witch, I don’t know the family name,” puts in Jamie. “I’ll try to contact him.”
Alaric shakes his head. “No. If he is a witch, we don’t want him alerted that you’re searching for Winterfall items.”
I rub my head. The lack of trust runs like a deep seam beneath the supernatural world. Amelia is right—how has this society stayed together all these years?
She sits beside Matt now, the pair’s arms intertwined as if letting go could pull them apart again; silent but watching everything.
“What do we do about the book?” I ask desperately. “I need to translate those spells and soon. Especially this one.”
Alaric watches as I leaf through and find the page with the runes. “These match mine… Astrid’s. This one—" I tap the page “matches the pendant.”
