Born of Shadows- Complete Series

by J. R. Erickson

  Kanti is not the ultimate enemy. I believed that she was when I set out on this search. I now know that she is held hostage in the world between life and death. Her spirit continues to give energy to the man who took her life. After reading Yarrow's book, I realized that I could help Kanti come back in physical form. I'm sure you think me crazy that I would make such a choice, but let me explain. There is no entity in existence more desperate to destroy this man than her. She may be the only way to eliminate him, and in turn, the curse. I do not believe that Kanti created the curse. Yarrow speaks of lineage as the most powerful energy that a single person can possess. Each child carries an imprint of the original creator's energy. If Kanti is allowed to come back, she will destroy him. How does she come back? Through possession. She must possess the body of another and I intend to offer myself for this cause. Please try to understand why I have made this choice. I am atoning for my mistakes. Perhaps I will end this curse after all.

  Yours Truly,

  Dafne

  Elda folded the letter and held it to her lips.

  "Kanti didn't create the curse," Faustine murmured. "I have suspected as much. Since reading Yarrow's book, I have thought the curse is part of Clyde's immortality. It is like a refueling every hundred years."

  "A refueling?" Oliver asked, skeptical.

  Helena stood, her face puffy from crying.

  "This is a lot to digest and there is still much to do for Abby and Sebastian's wedding tomorrow. I suggest we return to our wedding tasks and give this a couple of days to settle and make sense. I don't want our home to be filled with the energy of sad contemplation."

  Elda returned her letter to the envelope and nodded.

  "Yes, Helena is right. We will put everyone in a funk if we stay in this cerebral darkness. Let's find the joy in the present moment. Tomorrow there will be a wedding, a celebration of love, and we owe it to Abby and Sebastian to honor that ritual with our whole selves."

  Oliver glanced at Lydie, half expecting her to argue, but she too looked ready for a break from the heavy revelations of Dafne's letter.

  Chapter 29

  Sebastian stood beneath the ornate wooden archway. Julian had carved it from driftwood he found on the Lake Superior Shore. It was pale, bleached by years of sun and water, and smooth to the touch. Helena had draped the arch in white silk. It blew in the soft breeze that flowed off the water.

  A sea of emotion coursed through Sebastian, not all of it joyful. Sorrow tugged at his heart, beckoning him to look into the face of that pain and see his family, absent, from this most auspicious day. His mother would have run her fingers through his hair so that it stuck up in funny directions. She would have laughed and insisted that the pictures would be more memorable that way. His father would have been the serious one. He would have given Sebastian a memento to carry, a handkerchief or a pocket watch, something traditional and weighted with the Hull men who had come before. Claire would have been giddy and bouncing around the garden, chatting with the flowers. She would have fawned over Abby and insisted on braiding a flower into her hair.

  A blue and black butterfly landed on his outstretched hand. He lifted his finger close to his face and thought of his sister's words in the dream wood. "Think warm breezes and butterflies," she had said.

  "Hi Claire," he whispered.

  The butterfly spread her wings wide, revealing a pattern of blue spots that nearly made the shape of a heart on her shining wings. Helena stood behind him and he saw her watching the butterfly as well.

  Sebastian turned back to the witches before him. They faced the edge of the garden where Abby would emerge from the forest below. Her father stood, waiting. He wore a dark suit and clutched nervously at his tie. He turned frequently to scan the faces of the witches and offer polite smiles and nods before quickly turning his gaze back to the steps.

  Abby's mother sat in a chair close to the arch. She gazed around the space with an awed, and perhaps, suspicious expression. She wore a long heather gray dress and a string of pearls. Sebastian felt her eyes study him regularly as she looked at the garden. When they made eye contact he smiled and offered her a thumbs up, and she returned a polite nod.

  When Abby appeared, he felt every muscle in his body constrict. She looked ethereal in a long silk dress that flowed and shifted with her movements. Her gown seemed to slide and shimmer over her body like a living thing. Every inch of her looked beautiful, but most of all her eyes, soft and brown and huge as she walked toward him. He saw in her eyes everything he felt reflected back to him, love, desire, and fear.

  ****

  Abby took a deep breath. She clasped the teardrop crystal around her neck and felt the cool, calming energy slipping into her fingertips and traveling her body.

  "I am getting married," she said to the quiet forest. The trees did not speak, but she felt their stolid encouragement.

  It amazed her that she could feel so nervous and yet serene at the same moment. She had spent the last ten months with Sebastian. She had kissed him and teased him and talked with him for hours. She now shared a human being with him. A tiny little person who would soon join them in the world. And yet nerves buzzed through every cell of her body. She reached a self-conscious hand up to her hair.

  Helena had pulled her curls half-up. Lydie had placed a pearl comb in her hair and whispered to Abby that it belonged to her own mother. Abby was laden with 'something olds.' Her mother had given her an antique bracelet that belonged to her grandmother. It had tiny diamonds embedded in a delicate white gold band. Elda had offered Abby the teardrop crystal, an heirloom from her own original coven and a special piece of magic.

  She lifted the hem of her dress and walked slowly up the ancient staircase to the floating garden. The flowers quivered in a hundred brilliant colors. She felt them smiling up at her. Her dad held out his arm as she stepped into the garden.

  "You look radiant," he told her.

  She smiled and felt the first tear slip down her cheek.

  The witches of Ula and Chicago, as well as Abby's mother, sat in white folding chairs wrapped with gold silk. Lydie and Helena had spread white rose petals down the aisleway. Abby slipped off her sandals and walked barefoot. The earth settled her nervous energy.

  Abby trained her eyes on Sebastian's and tried not to trip. His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and as she drew closer she saw them fill and spill over. He blinked away the tears and turned to her dad. They shook hands and then her father took a seat next to her mom. Abby saw that her mother had started to cry. Her cheeks were stained with tears and mascara.

  Abby walked into Sebastian's arms. He hugged her and she rested her head against his chest. She could have stayed that way, breathing in the scent of him and forgetting that they stood in front of all the family they had left in the world, ready to commit the rest of their lives to each other.

  Helena cleared her throat.

  In the chairs, Lydie giggled and Oliver coughed.

  "Okay, okay." Abby laughed pulling away from Sebastian. They turned to face Helena.

  ****

  After the ceremony, Faustine led Abby and Sebastian to the stone slab at the lagoon. The other guests had been ushered back to the castle for a cocktail hour.

  Faustine would perform the magic ceremony apart from her parents. It was enough that they had come to Ula and experienced the castle and the floating garden. Her mother had commented on more than one flower not native to Michigan, but hadn't pushed the issue.

  At the slab, Oliver, Lydie, and Helena joined them.

  "Sebastian place your arms around Abby's waist and clasp your hands together, carefully weaving all of your fingers tightly. Abby place your arms around Sebastian's ribs, beneath his arms and weave your fingers together."

  Faustine unrolled a ball of hemp and handed a long piece to each of the witches. For a moment, Lydie's turned to fire and then resumed its original shape. The others did the same, Oliver appeared to hold a rope of steel, Faustine's was a long silvery piece of
water and Helena's became sparkling and transparent. When they each again held their lines of hemp, they started to chant. Faustine tucked one end of the hemp into their clasped hands. The witches circled Abby and Sebastian braiding the strands together.

  The elements of each twine sent a surge of energy through Abby. When Lydie's rope touched her, her whole body lit with warmth and passion. She felt fiercely protective of the man before her, the child within her, the witches surrounding her. At Faustine's rope, a cool serenity stole through her body. With her own element, water, the ball of blue flame at the base of her spine lit and traveled throughout her body into Sebastian's. She could see his eyes bulging and his face changing with the sensations. When Oliver's rope wrapped more tightly around Abby, her feet seemed to cement to the earth. She felt hard and heavy and strong. At Helena's rope, the weight released and buoyancy drifted through her. A thousand thoughts crossed her mind. She felt akin to great poets and scholars for an instant, and then it all washed away. Replaced with the miraculous sensation of peace. Everything would be okay.

  ****

  Elda started the glasses clinking and Sebastian leaned in to kiss Abby again. Her lips felt raw from all the kissing, but she savored every moment. She wanted the night to last forever. Sebastian cupped her face with his hands.

  "My wife," he said, looking into her eyes.

  "My husband," she whispered back and tried to feel the gravity of those words. Husband. She, Abby, had married that beautiful stranger standing in Sydney's driveway only ten months before.

  A long table draped in crimson linen, had been set on one of the stone balconies that protruded beyond the cliffs of Ula. The lake stretched toward the horizon, which had already begun to glow orange as the sun made it descent. Slender black candelabras held white candles that flickered with tiny shoots of orange flame. Bridget had outdone herself. Huge platters of food ran the length of the table. Smoked meats, fresh cheese and fruit, hot buttermilk biscuits, glazed and caramelized asparagus, Brussels sprouts, collard greens, and more. Never in her life had she so loved food and to have such a feast laid out felt like a whole new celebration. Adding to her delight was the look of pure ecstasy on Sebastian's face when he first saw their dinner. For an instant, she thought he might jump up and down like a child.

  As they ate, the table buzzed with conversation. For the most part, the witches stepped carefully around the curse, sticking to neutral topics. Abby knew that after she and Sebastian slipped away for their honeymoon the following day, Faustine intended to confront Victor.

  She glanced down the table at Victor. He held Kendra's hand clasped loosely in his own. Kendra and Dante were lost in conversation, but Victor looked distracted. He appeared tired and thinner than when she'd last seen him. He had worn black jeans and a black t-shirt, not one to follow tradition, but fastened a tiny red flower to his chest. In the tumult of the day, Abby had not spoken with him alone and she was grateful for that. Before the event, Faustine performed an intricate spell to conceal all their thoughts ensuring that Victor would not realize that they were onto him.

  Sebastian nudged her.

  "Everything okay?" She could see that he'd caught her watching Victor.

  She nodded and took a sip of her sparkling cranberry juice.

  After the food, Ezra set up her equipment and began to play music. All of the witches danced, even Faustine, who seemed incapable of more than an awkward sway until Ezra played Moon River and suddenly he and Elda twirled around the balcony in an old-fashioned waltz. For an instant, they were all transported to another place and time. Abby could imagine Faustine and Elda as young witches, in love and idealistic, ignorant to the suffering that would find them through the years. Abby clutched Sebastian more tightly as the dark thought passed through. Sometimes moments of great joy brought the possibility, the inevitability, of suffering to the surface in a whole new way. For that long moment, as she watched, transfixed on Faustine and Elda's graceful turns, she felt crippled with the fear of what lay ahead.

  And then, as if on cue, Ezra cut to an upbeat country song and the mood shifted once again. It was more than the music, the food and the merriment. All the witches had cast their energy over the space. The air buzzed, objects randomly lifted from the tables and floated around, bursts of fireworks exploded from nowhere in the sky above them. Abby's parents watched it all in dazzling, and perhaps drunken wonder. During a long slow dance, Abby's euphoria produced a soft pink mist that shrouded the entire room. She didn't intend to, but Sebastian nodded toward her fingers where the mist had slowly begun to seep out. It enveloped the entire room.

  ****

  Helena had outdone herself in the honeymoon suite. White silk tapestries hung from the ceiling and fell over the bed. White rose petals covered every surface. A thousand candles burned from the fireplace mantel, table tops and the floor. They fell into bed laughing and drunk on their love.

  After they made love, Sebastian pulled Abby close against him and encircled her in his arms.

  Chapter 30

  It was after two a.m. when Ezra finally cut the music. Only she, Oliver, Dante, and Helena remained on the veranda. They had stopped dancing hours earlier and shifted to deep conversations about the evolution of magic.

  "I really, truly, believe it is our responsibility to use our magic in meaningful ways to help humanity," Dante stated for the fourth time. He was drinking a cocktail that he referred to as the Kitty Kraze and his energy seemed to only grow in intensity as the night grew darker.

  "What's in that thing, anyhow?" Helena asked, yawning.

  Dante winked at her.

  "It's a secret, but I can tell you there's a bit of rum, vodka, pomegranate juice and magic."

  "Magic! Is that a meaningful use of your magic?"

  "Touché," Dante laughed, raising his glass. "Shall I make you one? I believe you will deem it meaningful."

  "Not for me," Helena laughed, standing and stretching her arms overhead. "I'm off to sleep."

  "I second that," Ezra said. "But Oliver, you may need to show me the way. I'm afraid I've forgotten where my room is."

  Oliver grinned and pushed away from the table.

  "It would be my pleasure," he told her, taking her hand and leading her back through the dining room.

  Victor watched the witches finally retire. He had waited in the shadows for more than hour. He had to be certain that all the witches were in their rooms before he could make his move. When he heard Dante's door click shut, he returned to his own. Kendra appeared to be sleeping soundly. However, she had crawled into bed that evening with a snake. She barely felt the bite, of course, but Victor saw her eyes bulge for a moment before they closed and she slipped into a long, deep sleep. She would not awaken for two days, and even then, he would have to summon her back from unconsciousness.

  He opened the black crate, carefully punctured to allow the snakes to breathe.

  "Come here my beauties," he whispered to the snakes wriggling inside. The serpents began to slither up his arms and coil around his biceps. When he had ten of them, he left the dungeon room and returned upstairs.

  He stopped at the bedroom doors of every witch in Ula, except for Abby and Sebastian and her parents. A quick incantation muted the sound as he slid open their door and slipped a snake inside. He visited Faustine's door last. He would be the most likely to awaken. Telepaths tended to have sensitive minds, easily roused from sleep.

  He took an added precaution at his door, pulling a small pouch of honey-colored powder from his pocket. He blew the powder through the keyhole. A little push to ensure they slept soundly. After two minutes, he performed the incantation and slid open the door. In the dim light, he could see both Elda and Faustine in the large wooden bed. He added a second snake and closed the door.

  ****

  Abby and Sebastian left early to drive back to the lower peninsula and catch a flight to Beaver Island where they would spend two nights for their mini honeymoon.

  "They must have partied late l
ast night." Abby giggled. "I don't even smell coffee. Bridget normally has a full breakfast laid out by six a.m."

  Sebastian grinned.

  "I saw Helena hitting the champagne pretty hard. Best we let them sleep it off, yeah? I wouldn't mind a rowboat ride back to shore. It'd feel like the first time we ever came to Ula."

  Abby smiled.

  "Yes, let's."

  They crept out of the quiet castle and climbed into one of the rowboats. The lake, as smooth as glass, reflected the morning sun. The early April day was cool but sunny. Abby tilted her face to the sky and breathed the chilled air deeply.

  As they rowed away from the castle, she gave a little wave, though she doubted any of the witches were awake to see them go.

  ****

  "And now the real honeymoon can begin," Abby murmured as they parked the car next to their house.

  Their honeymoon on Beaver Island had been fun, but Abby loved home and each time she left, she looked forward to that first step across the threshold more and more.

  "Wait," Sebastian told her, trotting around the car. He opened the front door and scooped her into his arms.

  "Wow, you made that look easy?" she laughed, knowing her pregnant body was slightly more cumbersome to handle.

  "You're light as a feather, my love," he told her, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. He set her inside the door and began building a fire in the living room hearth.

  Abby unpacked their stuff and took a long bath. Her low back ached from the all the driving. The heat lulled her and she allowed her eyes to drift closed.

  Kanti reached her hand for the soft, warm weight that should have pressed close to her belly. Her fingers brushed the prickly fabric of an empty wool blanket. She grew frantic, pushing blankets aside. She searched the bed, and then the floor, convinced the baby had fallen and rolled away. The hard-packed dirt floor was empty. The hut was empty.