That I cannot.
A tear traveled down her cheek and the cool touch returned to wipe it away.
Don't cry, Tierra. There have been too many tears. Return to your sisters, for you are stronger together than apart. Whatever is to come, you must remain as one. By earth, air, fire and sea...so mote it be...
The wind suddenly wailed through the stones and Tierra's heart clenched, hearing the weeping of Siren's Cry.
Her mother was gone. Tierra swallowed the cry to beg her to return and wiped away the remaining tears that yearned for her mother's embrace. She needed to be happy for the brief connection and not want for more.
She picked up the crown and studied it. For whatever reason, her mother was part of this, had shown her the way to find her inheritance. That couldn't be bad, could it? Inheritances were like gifts, boons. Plus her own mother wouldn't steer her wrong.
Slowly she raised the golden circle of antlers and set it on her head.
The same sensation that had shocked her when she'd been digging and first touched the crown returned and grew. From a seed germinating and breaking through the soil, it unfurled its leaves to the rising sun. Tierra gasped, embracing the flourish of new knowledge and power. Her senses went on hyper alert, and voices all around her could suddenly be heard. Not people. Animals.
The beasts of the forest.
She closed her eyes and tuned in to the new frequency. It felt natural, as though she'd opened a door that had always been there, but for some reason or another had overlooked it each time she'd passed down that particular corridor.
An eagle soared overhead and she melded with it, drifted along as though she were a hitchhiker. The eagle didn't seem to mind. In fact, it welcomed her and was proud to show her what he reigned over. The fear of being off the ground was replaced by an overwhelming sense of freedom.
Is this what Aerin felt when she flew, and Claire and Moira who had taken to the sky so easily? Untethered, liberated, and spirited?
From the eagle's eyes, Port Townsend glowed green and lush below her with Puget Sound sparkling like sapphires in the sun, showcasing the surrounding emerald islands. With a little nudge, she directed the eagle to fly over Water Street where Ambrosia's was already open for business and a few customers shuffled in to order their morning coffee, tea, and scones.
To the west, a seining boat crested the waves as it headed out to the fishing grounds, while a pleasure craft unfolded her sails and captured the wind. Tierra stayed with the eagle until it spotted prey.
She broke the connection, not wanting to share in its breakfast of shrew tartare. Opening her eyes within the circle of the stones, she froze, coming face to face with a majestic white stag that had silently stepped in.
The sun shone between his silvery antlers. He stood there like some mythical beast from the fairytale books she'd read as a child. His shoulders were massive, his stance regal and serene.
She blinked. He couldn't be real, but he didn't disappear.
According to myth and legends, the Native Americans believed that to see a creature like this was to invite you on a spiritual journey, and to follow where it led. The Celts suggested an adventurous quest with the gods and fairies of the otherworld—Tuatha Dé Danann—and a lesson to be taught since, to have come across the white stag, you must have transgressed. Well, she'd certainly done that last night.
The Christians believed the sacred animal was a symbol of Christ. But in other, older, more pagan beliefs, the white stag was not a creature of the gods, but himself a god, and represented the three creative forces of the universe.
Sex, life, and death.
Killian had pointed out that she, an earth witch, symbolized life, and he, the Fourth Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Death, and they'd created a life force together.
Could he be right and they were fated? Maybe she ought to rethink that fate/destiny aversion.
One thing was for certain, she needed to talk to her sisters, hit the books, and figure out what all this meant.
Grasping the wand, she shakily rose to her feet before the blessed beast. Her heart pounded and her mouth fell open when the stag bowed his head in a formal greeting and knelt before her like a loyal subject. Tierra didn't question the validity or safety of climbing onto his back.
From wherever he'd come from, be it through time or the otherworld, he'd arrived to see her safely home.
****
Moira stood on the front porch, hands propped on her hips, a worried expression painted on her face. She gaped when Tierra dismounted the white stag, her mouth falling open as the stag bowed before leaping off and disappearing into the forest that bordered one side of the yard.
"Where the hell have you been?" Moira asked, recovering quickly from the shock. "And since when do you travel by big giant bucks?"
"I'm having a bit of déjá vu here." Aerin joined Moira on the porch, Claire right behind her.
The look on their identical faces were full of condemnation.
And I thought I was in trouble before.
"It's not like she can get knocked up again," Claire commented.
"But she can get herself killed again," Aerin stated.
"Do you have any idea how worried we were?" Claire asked in a voice that wasn't open to excuses.
"The least you could've done is leave us a fucking message," Aerin said. "If you didn't have your cell phone, you could have used your magical powers or written something in the dirt so we didn't spend all night looking for your sorry ass and thinking the worst had happened."
"I'm sorry," she started, realizing how much she'd hurt them by not letting them know she was okay, or at least not dead somewhere.
"Damn right, you're sorry," Aerin said.
"Before we get to the reasons why you were out all night and didn't call, I need an answer," Moira said. "How the hell did you ride in here on a deer? And are you wearing a crown?"
Self-consciously, Tierra reached up and took off the crown she'd forgotten she still wore. The solid gold felt heavy in her hand. She should have a headache, but barely felt the weight of it until she'd taken it off. "It was a white stag."
"You can ride a white...stag, but can't manage a broom?" Aerin raised an eyebrow.
"You need to explain yourself, Tierra," Claire said.
What a picture she must make.
A night spent rolling around on the ground with Killian, digging in the dirt for her inheritance, and traveling miles on a wild, mystical animal through the forest from Siren's Cry. Sounded like she'd been on an acid trip. "Mind if I take a shower first?"
"Fuck, yes!" Aerin and Claire answered together.
"You think your walk of shame will wash off with a shower? Think again, sister," Aerin said.
"Fine." Her anger ignited, sparking against theirs. It was easier than dealing with her embarrassment and the hurt she'd caused them with her thoughtless actions. "You three flew off to goddess knows where and just left me to fend for myself."
"It wasn't our fault you couldn't figure it out," Aerin followed up.
"We told you to stay within the wards and practice," Claire said. "How hard was that?"
"Well, I got all turned around and ended up outside them. I didn't mean to. I just wasn't meant to fly. I'm an earth witch, and forcing me to do something before I'm ready, or willing, wasn't helping!" She'd felt like a child who couldn't ride a bicycle and all the neighborhood kids were making fun of her.
"All right, everyone calm the fuck down," Moira said in a voice meant to both placate and command. "Where did you go, Tierra? By the looks of you, we have a good idea who you were with all night. But how did you disappear so completely?"
"We couldn't even find you when we scryed," Claire admitted. "It was like you'd dropped off the planet."
"And with Death being able to move between realms, he could have taken you beyond our reach," Aerin said. "Did you think of that?"
No, she hadn't. "It all happened so fast. Killian appeared from out of nowhere and grabbed me."
"That fucking son of a bitch," Aerin muttered, obviously remembering how it had felt when Killian had come after her in his stealth-bomber winged-form. She'd poofed and ended up materializing in the kitchen—a new power that she hadn't been able to reproduce with any measure of control since. It seemed to be a "fight or flight" response to extreme fear, with emphasis on the flight.
"He took me to the Standing Stones," Tierra admitted.
"Why?" Moira asked. "It's not as if that place has a lot of pleasant memories for you."
"Such a romantic, that one," Aerin sneered. "But maybe fucking you where you died gets his rocks off."
Ouch. The gloves were off.
"All right, chill your ass down," Moira said to Aerin. "I can help you with that if you'd like." Moira must be the middle child, the peacekeeper, or she just had the biggest, most forgiving heart of the four of them. "Death tried to save her, remember? He had a part in opening the Fourth Seal, his Seal, because of it."
Aerin pursed her lips and looked like she wanted to reply, but held her tongue even though it appeared it would choke her to do so.
"Now," Moira continued, "let's go inside and discuss this like grown-ass women. We don't need to put on a show for whoever might happen to overhear. A bunch of pots callin' the kettle black will get us nowhere fast."
"It probably has something to do with her getting a piece of ass and us wanting some,"
Claire admitted. "With Death's bun in her oven, we're all in heat. And that's saying something coming from me as I'm always a few degrees above normal temp."
Aerin snickered. "You are one hot witch."
The tension lessened somewhat, and Tierra breathed a little easier.
"Ain't nothing being discussed until I have some coffee and biscuits on board," Moira said. "After a night of horizontal hokey pokey, I'm usually hungrier than a bitch with a litter of sucklin's pup. I'm sure Tierra could eat a horse, er that is, a farmer's market worth of organic vegetables."
"Don't forget tofu." Claire shuddered.
Actually, steak and eggs sounded good. She hadn't had meat since she'd become a vegetarian at the age of sixteen. And now that she could talk with the beasts, it didn't seem right to indulge in eating one. But the craving surprised and tempted her to give up the last ten years of healthy eating.
Moira held open the front door, and Aerin and Claire entered into the grand foyer. Tierra stepped up onto the porch to follow them into the house. The smell hit her as soon as she breached the entry. Burnt, rotten, suffocating.
"Where's Tommy?" she asked, covering her nose and taking a step back outside next to Moira.
"Not this again." Claire turned and fired at Tierra, her words searing. "I'm tired of hearing you complain about Tommy. Keep it up, and we'll both move out and you won't have to put up with either one of us."
Whatever is to come, you must remain as one. "No, Mom said we have to stay together."
"Mom?" Moira asked. "Just what in the Sam Hill have you been up to?"
"I have lots of stuff to tell you, but not inside the house. It's not safe." She took another step back.
"Are you insane?" Aerin asked, standing next to Claire, the threshold a line between them and Tierra and Moira, who stood on the porch. "It's the most protected place in the world we could be right now. It's warded out the ass."
"I don't think I can go in there." Now that she'd spent some time away from the manor, the smell seemed stronger and more repulsive. "I have information that someone or something dangerous got past the wards and is in the house."
"Aunt Justine hasn't arrived yet," Moira muttered.
"It isn't Aunt Justine."
"You forget about it being Tommy," Claire warned. "You've had it out for him since he arrived."
"Claire, do you remember how he showed up?" Tierra asked. "He isn't alive. He isn't the same man that you loved. He's something else."
"Every relationship has issues. Look at yours." She scoffed. "Now there's a man who gives new meaning to the term dead-beat dad."
Aerin laughed. "Good one. How long you been waiting to use that?"
"A while actually. I have a bunch of them. Want to hear?"
"No. I do not," Tierra said.
"Later then, we’ll compare notes," Aerin said. "I have a few of my own."
Tierra tried again with Claire. "Tommy isn't the same man that you loved, and in some part of your heart, you know that."
"You know nothing about it, Tierra, and if we want to keep this discussion civil, I suggest you drop it."
"Wait? So the relationship, for lack of a better word, between me and Killian is fair game, but you and Tommy are off limits?"
"Yes."
"Tierra's got a point, Claire," Moira pointed out.
"Killian Bane is the Fourth Horsemen of the Apocalypse," Claire sneered. "He is Death and our enemy. He tried to kill Aerin just days ago, and will no doubt try again. So, I have plenty to say."
"She's damn right," Aerin said.
"Tommy is..." Claire paused. "He's my lost love, my first love. I killed him, remember? Burned him up from the inside with my Fire, and by some blessing, I get a second chance to right that wrong. Has Tommy hurt either of you?" She pointed to Tierra and Moira, obviously secure with what Aerin thought of him. "Has he made any attempts to make you feel uncomfortable? He's been the perfect houseguest and is completely devoted to me. He loves me." There was heartache behind her words, and Aerin reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder.
With her empathic abilities, she would pick up Claire's emotions stronger than Tierra and Moira, but there was no doubt to how much pain Claire was still in because of Dru's betrayal.
But what if Tommy was the danger that Killian had warned her of? He'd been conjured with a spell that hadn't set right with Tierra. She felt darkness around him, much like the zombies they'd been fighting, but different. How could she explain and get Claire to listen without taking offense?
Hurt and grief sliced through Tierra, and she blinked back tears.
She was losing her sisters. She felt it. A rift had appeared at some point, and it was widening.
Chapter Eight
A raven flew off the branch and headed deep into the woods toward the cabin that was more of a mountain retreat than a simple log structure. Bane had seen Tierra safely to the edge of the wards. Not that she needed him. Riding astride the stag, she'd been about as safe as she could be.
Landing, he morphed into a man and strode purposely into the house and found Nick in the kitchen.
"Nice to see you finally showed," Nick greeted, pouring coffee. "Tell me, brother, have you been sleeping in the devil's bed or a witch's?" Nick lifted the cup and calmly sipped, his actions belying the anger of his next words. "My money's on the witch. I can see from your face where you've dipped your wick. If you were fucking Lucy, the rest of us might get a break from her attentions."
"Where are Julian and Dru?"
"I don't know. It's like no one around here gives a flying fuck for the mission. Everyone is off either doing the devil's bidding or spying on a witch—obviously forgetting that we're supposed to be killing one."
"That just got a lot harder to do."
"Well, shit." Nick set the mug down on the granite counter with a smack. "What now?"
"Tierra has the King of the Druid's crown and staff, at least part of the staff. A quarter of it."
"Fuck. Wands? Do they all have their wands?"
"I have no idea."
"Familiars and now wands. If they figure out how to use them, we might as well call it. Game over."
Bane chose not to tell Nick about Tierra and the appearance of the white stag. But he couldn’t keep quiet about the crown and staff. They'd all know soon enough even if Bane didn't inform them.
"Can we retrieve the crown?" Nick asked.
"No. She's already claimed it." He covered the pride he felt for the woman carrying his child, by grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee from the carafe.
"They
have no idea, do they?"
"Not a one. Which will be our saving grace if we can keep them in the dark."
Nick suddenly went on alert. "Cover your balls. Hell's about to break loose."
"Hello, boys!" Lucy called from the front door, entering the kitchen a few seconds later. Dressed conservatively in a pink suit and ivory pumps and pearls, Lucifer looked more like a devoted wife of the fifties instead of the ruler of the Underworld. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself in. I thought it would be good if we chatted."
Bane knew why she was here. Knew she'd show soon after Tierra had left the protection of the Standing Stones and the world embraced the return of the Druid's crown and staff.
"Have a seat and I'll pour you some coffee," Nick offered.
"Thank you, Nicholas." She pulled out a chair and sat. "I'll take it strong and black. I've been choking down tea at the coven. Witches and their herbs, it's enough to make one want to slit her throat." She waited until she had her coffee and Nick and Bane had joined her at the table to start with why she'd come. "I haven't heard from you two recently and need an update. Dru's cavorting with the coven, and setting up that frontline nicely, and Julian's busy heading up an outbreak of smallpox in Africa. That country is just ripe for epidemics."
"Smallpox was eradicated," Bane said. If smallpox was set upon the earth again after decades of no one being vaccinated, it would decimate the population. He'd have to call up more reapers to transport the dead. The disease had nearly wiped out the Native Americans back in the 1600s when it had been introduced from the Puritans. So much for a New World.
"Do you think I would let mankind completely destroy one of my pet projects?" Lucy scoffed. "Maybe you need a refresher course of who exactly I am and the power I wield. You and I haven't combined talents since the days we inspired the Deuteronomy chapter in the bible and that piteous list of sexual immorality."
More like horrified him.
"Now, Lucifer, take credit where credit is due," Bane said. "I had very little to do with that." He'd been more of a tool to be used, to shock, and sicken than a willing party. Somehow he needed to completely break those binds.
Which Witch is Wicked? (The Witches of Port Townsend Book 2) Page 21
