The Silver Rose

by Rowena May O’Sullivan

  Did they miss him, he wondered? Did they think about him and wonder where he was? How he was? He was no longer a participant in their lives. He had cut his ties with the past, and, until this very moment, he had not returned in thought, body, or spirit. Not once. Swallowing hard, Aden fought back the ache of longing at the back of his throat and soaked up the images before him as if he had been deprived of water for an eternity.

  His hold on the shield protecting him from detection slipped as suppressed sadness erupted to the surface and threatened to swamp him.

  A young girl looked up. Hair long and as shiny as a raven, she shared Aden’s features, and he knew just as surely as he new his own name that this young girl was a descendant of his brother’s bloodline. Her potential was enormous. She pointed toward him.

  Dragons’ Oath! She could see him!

  Now there was silence as one by one his family turned. Aden’s skin prickled with a mixture of joy and trepidation.

  His father moved first, twisting in his chair, a lemon in one hand and a knife in the other. Then his mother, still standing, her hands holding a dish laden with roast capsicums, tomatoes, feta, and garlic, turned around..

  “Aden,” she cried, and the dish tumbled to the earth as she stretched out her hands in supplication.

  The joy in her voice caused Aden to tremble. “Mama,” he uttered softly, unconsciously reverting to his childhood name for her. He wondered how he could have forgotten and so callously discarded the warmth and comfort of a mother’s love.

  There were other gasps of wonder. Hope. Joy. They wait for me. He did not know how he knew it, but the knowledge sent a knife slicing through his heart. He whispered softly to himself, they await my return. His world tilted beneath his feet. Deliberately, Aden severed the link between the veils. He needed time to assimilate what he had just witnessed.

  “What is it?” Rosa’s hands gripped his, her fingers digging into his skin. He looked down, surprised to see them there. Worry etched a furrow of lines across Rosa’s brow. Again, she asked, “What is it?”

  “I grew up in a land warmed by the sun and surrounded by love.” Surprised, he added softly, “Maybe it’s time I went home.”

  He offered nothing else. Words of truth were best, but any more and they would be lies. Rosa’s opinion should not mean anything to him.

  Apparently it did.

  • • •

  Rosa picked up on the yearning and melancholy Aden all too briefly and unwittingly revealed. He had given her the basics, but left out all the details.

  “I love my home, the gallery, and most of all, my sisters. But — ” and she flushed, feeling guilty at the admission, “ — I’ve always wanted to travel further afield.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  A simple question. A difficult one to answer. “Timing, I suppose.”

  Conscious she still held Aden’s hands and not quite believing she was revealing something she had never told anyone, not even Zelda, she loosened her grip and moved back to the other end of the couch.

  But then Aden followed, easing into the gap beside her. “You know the story of our parents dying. I’ve stayed on to look after my sisters.”

  “A valid excuse when they were underage. What’s stopping you now?”

  “What’s stopping me?” she whispered softly. Rosa leaned into the comfort of the old couch, rested her head against the back, and ran her right hand lovingly over the frayed material that reeked of history, of her family. “Maybe next year.” The words sounded hollow to her ears.

  Aden rested his arm along the back of the couch and curled the ends of Rosa’s hair into ringlets. There was warmth in his eyes she had not seen before. It was as if his decision to return home softened him, made him more human, more approachable. What kept him away from the ones he loved? What had gone so horribly wrong that he had not visited them in a long time?

  “You’d like Cyprus,” he said.

  She believed him. “I know.”

  “Italy too.”

  With a ringlet wound around his index finger, he reached out and stroked her heated cheek with the combined softness of his skin and her hair. The room was eerily silent except for the quickening beat of her heart. Warmth stole into the smile on his lips. One minute she distrusted this man and the next she wanted to explore deep physical contact. Perhaps one kiss, she half-convinced herself, just to see if she was imagining the pull between them and to satisfy her growing surety he was the one. She allowed him to slide into her space.

  “Just a few more weeks and summer will be here. Raven’s Creek is beautiful during spring and summer.”

  “I believe you,” Aden murmured. “But I’ll be leaving once the festival is over.”

  “You could stay longer,” Rosa suggested, not quite believing she had uttered the words.

  “Ah, Rosa.” Aden breathed a sigh that sounded a lot like regret. “I can’t.”

  She wanted to ask why not, but a loud cough caused her to jump and Aden to move away, preventing her from pursuing the possibility of a kiss, because she was sure that was where they had been heading.

  “Isn’t this just the coziest picture,” Alanna drawled.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cyprus — Dragunis Family Enclave

  Leonardo could hardly believe his weary eyes. Surely they deceived him. But no, Sophia had seen their son too, and the evidence of her shock lay broken at their feet, the ground littered with shards of pottery and smashed vegetables.

  “Leo,” his wife sobbed into her empty hands. “Did you see him? Did you see the sadness in my boy’s eyes?”

  Leonardo gulped down the first inkling of hope in centuries. His hands shook as he gripped his wife’s elbows and pulled her into his embrace. “I saw more than that. I saw his intention to return to us.”

  It had been the briefest glimpse, but in Leonardo’s eyes it was a gift so precious his heart overflowed with happiness. His mouth widened into an enormous smile, and his cheeks ached from the strangeness of it. Placing strong arms about his wife, he hugged her to his chest. “This is a good sign.”

  “The first and only sign,” Sophia sobbed into his chest. “I don’t know if I can cope if he doesn’t return to us.”

  “You’ll cope as you’ve done for the past four centuries.” Leonardo lifted his wife’s face and thumbed away the tears on her cheeks. “I told you it would take time.”

  “Time? Huh! I thought you meant months. How much longer can it be, Leo? One glimpse of him in four hundred years is not enough. I want to see him daily. I want to hug him. Cook for him. I want to tell him everything is going to be all right.”

  Leonardo’s gaze encompassed all of his family sitting at the long trestle table. The youngest, the one who had seen Aden first, spoke. “Poppa, who was that man?”

  “That was Aden, Dragon of Marylebone Coven and your uncle. He’s older brother to your father and your aunt Imelda.”

  “Why have we never met him? Why is Nana crying?”

  “Nana has not seen him in a long time. Her tears are happy ones. Not sad.”

  Santos, Aden’s brother, reached over and patted his daughter on the head. Moisture too, shone in his eyes. “So many questions. You’re very hungry for information.”

  Sophia wiped away her last tear and twirled a finger at the food littered on the ground. It flew into the kitchen for disposal later. “If Poppa says we will see him again, then we will. Soon he will be eating with us amongst the vines.” A smile softened her features as the shock wore off. “And what a celebration we will have.”

  Leonardo winked at Nan. “And then you can ask him as many questions as you want.” But he whispered softly into his wife’s ear. “A quick trip to Marylebone to see Anton might be prudent. Just to see what has happened to bring about this shift in attitude.”

 
• • •

  Marylebone Coven, Marylebone House, London

  As a past Ascended Master of the Supreme Council, Leonardo required no authorization to enter the hallowed halls of Marylebone Coven. He arrived in the main hallway of Marylebone House without fanfare. Still, there was a swift gasp of surprise from many walking the ancient hallway as they went about their daily tasks.

  Leonardo Dragunis, Grand Master and revered artisan, had not favored Marylebone with a visit in a very, very long time, but his fame preceded him, and he was recognized immediately.

  Leonardo might not have understood his son’s actions in choosing to cut his ties from his family — self-punishment would not solve anything — but in deference to his son’s wishes they had all stepped back, waiting silently in the background for the time when he would return. Patience was one quality Leonardo had acquired in the two thousand three hundred years he had walked the earth. But even this old warlock’s patience was almost at an end.

  Happy to be back in Marylebone, Leonardo could not prevent an enormous grin. He clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms with enthusiasm. Until this very moment, he had not realized just how much he missed the place he’d once called home.

  A flurry of whispers reached his ears. It would not be long before his old friend, Anton, heard of his arrival. He had communicated with him often over the years, but they had not physically seen each other in all this time. It was good to be back. It felt right.

  “Leonardo!” Eleisha, Dragoness of Marylebone and Anton’s life partner, came running down the long, dark-paneled hallway. She threw herself into his embrace, her snowy white dragon, Victoria, fluttering softly at her side. “Oh, how wonderful! Anton will be ecstatic!”

  “Ecstatic?” Leonardo chuckled. “Mystified, more likely.”

  Eleisha stepped back, grasped his lined face, and went up onto her toes to kiss both cheeks. “A wonderful sight for this Dragoness’s eyes.”

  Seeing one of his oldest friends tugged the strings of affection in Leonardo’s heart, and his eyes misted. First his son and now his return to Marylebone — the centre of what had been his universe for so very, very long. Eleisha hooked her arm through his and began to tug him down the hall to the Dragons’ Lair where Anton spent most of his time; where Leonardo too had once presided.

  Eleisha was eager to show him off to Anton, but in the end it was a slow process, as there were many old friends to greet and a multitude of questions demanding answers.

  Eleisha asked the most. “Where have you been? What brings you to Marylebone after all this time? You’re sorely missed, you old rascal. And Sophia. How is she? Why didn’t you bring her with you?”

  “Sophia is well but she is busy feeding the family. Perhaps she will join me when next we meet.”

  “So this visit isn’t a one-off?” Eleisha’s appeared hopeful although dissatisfaction filled her eyes. They reached the main doors of the Dragons’ Lair. When Leonardo moved to open the doors, she stopped him. “Surely you will not leave it so long between visits next time.”

  Leonardo recognised the sorrow in Eleisha’s words. “I will send Sophia to you as soon as I return home. And you are free to visit us in the Enclave any time you wish.”

  Eleisha’s smile blossomed once more. Sophia had been one of her best friends, and it was clear she had been sorely missed. She grasped his hand with hers and squeezed it. “I thank you, Leo. Now let me open the door. I want to see Anton’s face when I introduce you.”

  Leonardo grinned. “Me too.” He nodded and allowed himself to be let in to the Dragon’s Lair, the main meeting room for all visitors to Marylebone.

  Eleisha pushed the door open with a wave of her hand and led the way in, every particle of her aura charged with anticipation. “Anton,” she shouted above the throng of activity in the great room. “Look what your Dragoness has brought you. Is she not the best wife in all the world?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was something about spring that never failed to soothe away Rosa’s doubts and sadness. She sat on a white, wrought iron chair next to a small, matching table in Zelda’s garden, her eyes closed, her face raised to the sun, relishing the quiet stillness as the warmth filtered through to her bones.

  Zelda, her mother’s lifelong friend, had descended upon Raven’s Creek within hours of her parent’s passing to guide her and her sisters through the long, agonizing days, weeks, and months of grief. Although there was no need to continue to remain in Raven’s Creek, Zelda had purchased a small picture postcard cottage on the edge of Raven’s Creek and spent all her spare time there.

  Rosa knew she was Prime Wizardess. She knew she travelled extensively on magical business, but the old woman never divulged details and Rosa, although intensely curious, knew better than to ask. Zelda remained steadfast in her affection and love despite her many absences from Raven’s Creek. Zelda was Rosa’s rock and confidant.

  “So what do you make of our new resident artist?” Zelda placed a plate of freshly made scones heavily laden with jam and cream on the table. She wasn’t a woman to skirt issues. “He’s a handsome so-and-so, isn’t he?”

  Rosa reached for a scone, wary and not sure she wanted to discuss Aden with Zelda. “Handsome doesn’t even begin to describe him.” She bit into the scone. “These are delicious. I’ve been craving your baking for weeks.”

  “Eat up, girl. You’re too thin for my liking. I go away for a few weeks, and I come back to find you as thin as a wraith.”

  “I’m eating plenty.” But her reply wasn’t truthful, and Zelda possessed sharper eyes than most.

  “Don’t believe you. Eat up. I’ve more in the kitchen for your sisters.”

  “I’m eating. I’m eating.” And she launched into her second scone. “Heaven.”

  Zelda sliced her scone into quarters and pecked at one portion. “I’d say that about that Aden fellow. Not so sure it applies to my scones.”

  Rosa laughed, but she wondered at Zelda’s gentle prodding. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I’m thinking you should snaffle him up.” Zelda chuckled. “He’s perfectly scrumptious.”

  And here she’d been hoping for a quiet morning in the sunshine. “Juicy delicious is what Alanna called him.”

  Zelda hooted. “That girl. She’s a treasure!”

  Rosa’s eyebrows raised and she nearly choked on her scone. “I did say Alanna.”

  “I know you did, girl. She hides her true potential from you all. Mark my words, she’ll surprise you one day.”

  “Believe me, she surprises me every day.”

  But Zelda appeared to be focused on Aden, and she rattled off a list of his attributes as she saw them. “Unmarried, rich, single. Girl, you’ve got to grab him before Alanna does.”

  “Not you too!” Rosa had a good idea Alanna would be a lot like Zelda one day.

  A satisfied gleam lit the old woman’s eyes to a deep purple. “So others agree with me.”

  “Not others. Alanna thinks he’s perfect me too. And if I don’t want him,” Rosa prevaricated, “she’s happy to offer herself up in my place.”

  “She would,” Zelda remarked and then asked the all-important question. “And are you going to let her have him?”

  “No. Yes. No!” Rosa gave Zelda a pointed stare. “What’s with your interest in my relationships? You’ve never tried to marry me off before.”

  “I never mentioned marriage!” Zelda’s eyes held a gleam of excitement. “We’ve never had anyone like him in the village before.” Zelda winked. “He likes you. You like him. It could work.”

  Rosa nearly inhaled the cream from her scone as she realized her error in mentioning the word marriage. “How can you tell he likes me?”

  “How do I know how to bake without reading a recipe? I just do.”

  “He’s only here
for a few short weeks, and then he’ll be off.”

  “And is that all that’s stopping you? You could follow him.”

  “Follow him?” The thought had crossed her mind. “Absolutely not!” Her appetite lost, she placed the half-eaten scone down on her plate. Should she burden Zelda with her worries? Surely it was time to start making her own decisions.

  Zelda’s eyes lost some of their zeal, and concern crept into her voice. “Something else is bothering you. Better out than in.”

  “My life has been turned upside-down and has wrung me inside-out.”

  Zelda leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table on either side of her plate. “Tell me all.”

  And before she could stop herself, Rosa spilled everything. “The Bells of Marylebone tolled for me last week. I wondered if you knew already with you being on the Supreme Council.”

  “You know I can’t discuss anything about the council with you, but I can tell you the Fates decide on the bells. They’re a law unto themselves, and we have no control over them.” Zelda shivered. “They give me the heebie jeebies.”

  “An apt description on how I feel about it all.”

  “So you think Aden’s the one?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. He has huge potential. But I’m positive he’s hiding magic.”

  “And this is a problem because … ?”

  “Why would he hide? What point would it serve? Plus I’m sure he attempted to bespell me the other day. He broke through all the security spells surrounding Gregori, and I was knocked unconscious. He tried to make me forget and told me I fainted. He thinks I don’t remember but I do. I think it’s because my magic is spiking and growing so uncontrollable that his spell didn’t work on me.”

  Zelda grasped Rosa’s hands. “I would have felt a surge of magic if the spells around Gregori had been broken. I’m connected to you too.”

  Rosa’s memory was a jumbled mess of images but she was positive of one thing. Aden definitely had attempted to bespell her. She’d returned to check on Gregori early that morning specifically to investigate whether any of the spells surrounding him had been tampered with. She’d found nothing.