Witch Myth Omnibus: A Yew Hollow Cozy Mystery
Page 6
“What kind of something?”
I nodded toward Teagan. “Could you keep an eye on her? I know we’re spelling the room, but if she needs to go out anywhere, would you go with her? You’re the only other medium in town, so you’d be the only person who could warn me if Ronan tries again.”
She pondered the task for a few seconds, tapping her fingers restlessly against the wall behind her. “Yeah, I guess. I thought you said Ronan was dangerous, though?”
“He only attacked Teagan when he thought she was alone,” I said, remembering that Ronan had waited until Dominic and I had left the interrogation room before attempting to upend the filing cabinet. “It would be a good way for you to practice the whole medium thing. Plus, if you’re there, it might stop Ronan from doing something stupid.”
Gwenlyn nodded. “Okay.”
“I appreciate it. Just—be careful, okay? Call me if you see him anywhere at all.”
Another nod. Then Laurel joined us, taking Gwenlyn’s hands and positioning them in the basic stance for a protection ward. A glimmer of forest-green craft appeared at the tips of Gwenlyn’s fingers. As Laurel instructed Gwenlyn on how to add her own power to the ward, I slipped out of Teagan’s room and into the hallway.
“You all right?” Dominic asked, watching as I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.
“Yeah, just tired. Do you ever feel like you can never catch a break?”
“All the time,” he said. He set a reassuring hand on my shoulder, smiling. “Don’t worry, though. You have backup. How’s it going in there?”
“They’re almost done,” I said. My first instinct was to shake Dominic’s hand from my shoulder, but I held back. Strangely, I found it comforting, as if my stress dissipated through the point of contact. In the short amount of time that I’d known him, Dominic had already proved his worth, from finding the wedding ring to getting Teagan out of harm’s way at the police station. His quick thinking and initiative was admirable. As I looked up at him, he smiled again.
“What would you say to relaxing a little bit tonight?” he asked, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Would you like to have dinner?”
“I don’t know, Dom,” I said. “We should really be working on the case.”
“How about if we talk about the case over dinner?” he proposed. He propped a hand against the wall behind my head, towering over me like a human shield. “It’ll give me a chance to get to know you better. The town, too. You can show me around, if you like.”
It couldn’t hurt to spend a few more hours with Dominic, especially if he wanted to learn more about Yew Hollow. Plus, I had to admit that he was growing on me.
“Around seven?” I asked.
Yet another smile blossomed across his face. “Sounds good. And Morgan?”
“Hm?”
“I like when you call me Dom.”
Later that evening, Dominic showed up at the barn ten minutes early. Thankfully, I’d always been too punctual for my own good. I had already showered and dressed, but when I heard the knock at the barn’s sliding door, my stomach turned over in unexpected anxiety. I hurried down the loft steps to let Dominic in, wondering why my nerves had kicked in all of a sudden. It was a work date, nothing more.
As I pulled open the door, I was glad to see that Dominic had kept it casual. He wore tan tailored shorts and a blue fitted T-shirt that brought out the color of his eyes.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi. You look nice.”
I’d picked out a flowy white top and a pair of light-blue jeans. It seemed fitting for a spring evening in Yew Hollow.
“Thanks. Let me just grab my things.”
I stepped back so that Dominic could come in. As I gathered my keys and a sweater, Dom looked around the loft.
“Great place. Who did the redesign?”
“The coven, actually,” I said. “It’s amazing how fast you can renovate a place when your carpenters are all magicians.”
He shook his head in amused disbelief. “That’s amazing. I wish I had the same perks.”
“Why, do you have an apartment that needs renovating?” I asked then added jokingly, “Feel free to hire the Summers Construction Company.”
“I think the Summerses have quite enough on their hands at the moment,” he said. His eyes twinkled as he smiled. “All set?”
I nodded, letting Dominic usher me through the door. Outside, a large picnic basket rested in the grass, which Dominic shouldered as we headed through the woods toward town.
“What’s in the basket?” I asked, focusing on my feet. The path from my loft was rough and uneven, and I was determined not to trip over any tree roots.
“Dinner,” he said, using his free hand to guide me across the bumpy ground. “I hope you like chicken. You’re not a vegetarian, are you? I forgot to ask.”
“No, I’m a carnivore. You cooked?”
He grinned down at me. “You seem surprised.”
“I am, actually.”
“I figured we could picnic under the yew tree,” he said. “You keep mentioning it, and I haven’t had the chance to check it out yet. That okay with you?”
I decided not to tell him that the space beneath the yew tree held some pretty terrifying memories for me. I hadn’t really been around the tree since the events of last fall. It was time to confront that, and Dom had presented me with the opportunity. I nodded.
Our walk out to the yew tree was rather quiet. Dominic kept most of the conversation going, asking about what it was like to grow up in Yew Hollow and what it was like to be a part of the Summers coven. It was hard to fill him in on my life, considering so much of it had happened outside the Hollow. When we reached the yew tree, he extracted a large blanket from the picnic basket and spread it out beneath the tree.
“Your table, ma’am,” he said. I laughed, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the blanket. The tree shaded us from the sun, its beams stretching horizontally across the town as it moved toward the horizon. As a breeze drifted through, ruffling Dominic’s hair, he began to set up the meal he had made. Then he poured me a glass of white wine.
“Should we toast?” he asked.
I tapped my glass against his. “To solving this damn case.”
Dominic nodded in appreciation and took a sip of his wine.
As we dug into the meal, I found the conversation veering away from the Riley case. Though I knew that we should be focusing on what to do about Teagan and Ronan, it was refreshing to talk about normal things. Dominic had a great sense of humor. As he imitated the gruff voice of his old police chief in Brooklyn during one hilarious anecdote, I nearly forgot that we were there to work on a case. We polished off the wine, getting sillier with every sip.
“So, tell me about this tree,” Dominic said, affectionately patting the trunk of the yew tree as though it were a friendly dog.
The sun had gone down, and the stars had emerged, visible even through the thick branches of the yew tree. Dominic lay back, resting his head on his hands, and stared up at the sky. He patted the blanket beside him, inviting me to join him. I set my wine glass aside and lay down next to him. For the first time in a while, I felt the yew tree’s comforting aura pulse through me, as if encouraging me to trust it again. I gazed up into its branches, watching the breeze play through the leaves.
“It’s Yew Hollow’s central point,” I explained. The sky was clear, and the stars were bright. I reached up, tracing imaginary outlines of the constellations with the tip of my finger. “The town was built around it.”
“I know that already,” Dominic said, taking my raised hand in his and playing with my fingers. “I want to know what the tree means to you. Something tells me that you have a special relationship with it.”
“In a way, I suppose,” I admitted, wondering exactly how much Dominic had heard about the tree in reference to me. “It’s a long story. Would you like the Reader’s Digest version?”
“Sure.”
I sighed, wondering how to best phrase my most recent interaction with the tree. “Last October, one of the townspeople tried to steal my family’s power. The only reason I was able to stop him was because the yew tree supported me. Ever since then, I’ve been a little hesitant to go near it.”
“Why?”
“Because it used me as a vessel,” I said. “I had no control over it. Do you know how terrifying that is?”
“But you saved your family, right?”
“The tree did.”
“Yes, but it dubbed you worthy enough to use the power inside it,” said Dominic matter-of-factly.
I sat up, turning toward him. “You know, mortals are usually more uncomfortable with this toic of conversation.”
He sat up too, propping himself up on the palms of his hands. “I find it interesting. When I first got this assignment, I thought it was a joke, but working with you has gotten the best of me. I’m invested now.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Dominic rested a hand on the yew tree. “Glad to be here.”
When I turned to look at him, he was much closer than I expected. I could see flecks of gold within his blue eyes. He leaned in, kissing me lightly, but I pulled away.
“I barely know you,” I said, my cheeks burning. “Besides, it’s a bad idea. We’re partners.”
He rested his forehead against mine, sighing. “I know, but I like you. I knew it as soon as you shoved my feet off your desk.”
I laughed softly, and he took the opportunity to kiss me again. He wrapped an arm around my waist, dipping me toward the ground. My back grazed against the trunk of the yew tree and, all of a sudden, my vision blacked out.
Dominic had disappeared. In fact, everything had disappeared. The food and wine was gone, as was the picnic blanket. I stood at the base of the yew tree, completely nonplussed. The town was quiet. Even the stars had faded.
Then Ronan Riley appeared, his ghostly pallor glimmering in the dark. He strolled across the town square, his shoulders squared off at a determined angle. As he passed right by me, oblivious to my presence, I realized what was happening. The tree was showing me a vision of what had happened here, of what was still happening.
Ronan pressed a palm against the trunk of the yew tree. At first, nothing seemed to change. Then Ronan’s figure, transparent at first, solidified. He plucked a leaf from one of the yew tree’s low-hanging branches, crushing it in his meaty fist, and let out a satisfied laugh.
The vision vanished as quickly as it had come. I was suddenly back with Dominic, who worriedly shook my shoulders.
“Morgan? Morgan, are you okay?”
I brushed him off, ignoring the look of hurt on his face. There were more important things to address.
“What happened?” I asked him. “Just now. What happened to me?”
“You passed out,” said Dominic, the corners of his lips turned down in a worried expression. “It was only a moment or two, but maybe we should get you checked out—”
“I’m fine,” I interrupted him, standing up and brushing off my hands.
He stood too, knocking over a glass in the process. Wine spilled across the remains of our meal, staining the blanket. “Morgan, what just happened?”
“It’s the tree,” I said. I ran my hand over the spot that Ronan had pressed his hand to, wondering how it was even possible. “The tree is helping Ronan.”
Chapter Six
In Which My Judgement of Character Is Questioned
In the morning, I met Dominic at Yew Hollow’s local library. I had been too distracted by the tree’s vision to continue our date the night before. Like a gentleman, Dominic had walked me home without argument. Thankfully, he was just as invested in our newly discovered information as I was. We’d discussed the possibilities all the way back to the barn, but I simply had no idea as to why the yew tree would lend power to a ghost. The library had stacks and stacks of old books and newspapers pertaining to the town’s history, including its origin story, so I figured it was the best place to start our research project.
“Do you spend a lot of time here?” Dominic asked as I headed straight toward the back corner of the library, where I knew the majority of texts about Yew Hollow were stored.
“Not much,” I said, peering at the spines of the books on the shelves. “I had a similar need for information last fall, so I’m particularly familiar with this section of the library.”
Dominic pulled a large, dusty book entitled The Role of Death in Eternal Life from one of the shelves and flipped through the first few pages.
“This is the strangest town I’ve ever been to,” he murmured.
“You haven’t seen the half of it.”
We settled in, each of us with a stack of books that might give us any sort of hint into the yew tree’s history. It seemed that Yew Hollow always had something to hide. Every time I thought I knew everything about my hometown, some strange event came along to completely derail it. I absentmindedly paged through a history of Yew Hollow, barely comprehending the words. My mind wandered off, and I wondered if things were ever simple in this town.
“Morgan.”
“Hm?”
“Have you ever seen this before?”
Dominic leaned across the aisle to hand me a leather-bound journal. The covering was worn smooth, and the pages had yellowed. I opened it to discover a name and a date scrawled in calligraphy on the first page: Mary Summers, 1695.
“Where did you find this?” I demanded.
“Wedged behind the books on that bottom shelf,” he said, pointing to the rack directly across from him.
Carefully, I thumbed through the first few pages of the journal.
“It’s her diary,” I said, in awe of the discovery. Pages upon pages of cursive, all from the hand of Mary Summers.
“Who was she?” Dominic asked, resting his chin on my shoulder to get a better look at the journal.
“One of the original witches of Yew Hollow,” I said. “We settled here in 1693. Don’t you know the story?”
“Vaguely,” he admitted with an apologetic smile. “I can’t say I spend a whole lot of time reading up on the history of Yew Hollow. Although, now that I think about it, I probably should. Are you related to her?”
“Yes. We’re descendants of the original Summers coven.”
“Wow,” said Dominic, looking impressed. “Does she mention the yew tree?”
“Give me a minute.”
Respectfully, he withdrew, immersing himself in another book. I slowly leafed through Mary Summers’s diary, still in disbelief over the fact that Dominic had managed to find it. I didn’t know that there were any personal accounts of Yew Hollow’s origin story—my mother surely would’ve been aware of them—but here was a firsthand narrative of my familial history, buried behind a plethora of useless information.
My heart stopped when I flipped to a new page and found a hand-drawn picture of the yew tree, distinguishable by the large gnarled knot on the yew’s trunk, which Mary Summers had captured perfectly in her artwork. That, however, wasn’t the most interesting part of the drawing. Around the tree, Mary Summers had stenciled in five miniature portraits, one of herself and four others. Ann Summers, Elizabeth Summers, Bridget Summers, and Dorothy Summers.
I grazed a fingertip across the faces of the portraits. Mary had captured them well. Our family’s genetics were unmistakable. I saw the shape of my nose in Bridget and the crooked set of my mouth in Dorothy. Malia and Laurel both bore a remarkable resemblance to Elizabeth, and even the inquisitive angle of Ann’s eyes reminded me of Karma. It was almost as if the current Summers coven was a reincarnation of the original one.
The page opposite the drawing was filled top to bottom with cramped, messy cursive. As I began to decipher it, reading through the passage with increasing urgency, my hands began to shake. It turned out that Mary Summers’s diary was the only resource I’d ever needed.
Dominic eyed my trembling hands. “What’s the matter?”
“They buried themselves,” I said, indicating the passage. “The original witches of Yew Hollow buried themselves beneath the yew tree to strengthen its ability to protect the town.”
“Is that what it says?”
I passed him the journal, pointing to the relevant scribbles. “Right there. They combined their powers to create the ultimate defense mechanism for the town.”
“Okay, but what does that have to do with the situation now?” Dominic asked, his brow furrowed as he inspected the miniature portraits of my long-dead ancestors. “I mean, if they meant to reinforce the tree’s protective powers, why would the tree allow Ronan to wreak havoc in Yew Hollow?”
I considered that for a moment. Dominic had a point. It didn’t make any sense that the yew tree would help Ronan try to kill Teagan. Objects of nature didn’t often support violence, and the tree itself had only ever been used as a means for protection. Besides, the tree hadn’t channeled any power at all until I’d reconnected with it last October. I snapped my fingers in realization.
“That’s it,” I said, startling Dominic out of his reverie. “Last year, when I channeled that ward to save the town? The only reason I could do that was because the tree helped me. It wasn’t my power. It was the original Summers coven’s. The tree had been dormant for years. I must’ve woken it up somehow.”
Dominic looked skeptical. “That still doesn’t explain why it’s been lending power to Ronan if your family’s original goal was to protect Yew Hollow.”
“If there’s one thing I know about witchcraft, it’s that it’s completely unpredictable,” I said. I took the journal back from Dominic, reading through the passage again in case there was some other detail I had missed. “It’s nature, you know? Uncontrollable. Ronan figured out a way to channel the original coven’s power through the tree to give him physical abilities.”
“What if someone else is helping Ronan?” Dominic asked worriedly. “It seems unlikely that Ronan would’ve figured out how to do it on his own, you know? It’s not like he had any kind of power. You said only women are able to inherit witchcraft, right?”