“Their necks were snapped. It could be passed off as a fall, or, given the number of them, from being thrown back by the explosion,” said Evan.
“So Auberon is just going to get off?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice. It seemed so wrong that all this had happened, and he wouldn’t be punished.
“Unless he’s over there.” Evan pointed to the gravel driveway. Laid out on the ground were several bundles wrapped in thick plastic, long zippers up the front. It took me a moment to realise they weren’t more debris, but body bags, with bodies. I looked away quickly.
Hawkscroft had looked like such an impressive, imposing house but in the cold daylight, with its windows hanging open, trails of water seeping out the front doors and over the steps, it only looked sad and depressed. People moved in and around the house like worker ants, busily scurrying here and there. Occasionally, a call or an order would carry on the wind, reaching our viewing spot. I wondered what would happen if anyone turned to look up at us. Would they think we were morbid onlookers? Perhaps we were.
I was vaguely aware of Daniel moving around Anders and coming to stand next to me. He found a scarf and wrapped it up around his chin, his shoulders hunched. I squeezed his hand. “Sorry.”
He shrugged but didn’t let go. “It had to happen.”
“I’m sorry anyway. This was your home.”
“This was a prison.” He took one last look at Hawkscroft, damaged and unable to hold him anymore, and turned away, starting the steady descent down the grassy slope.
“What happens to Daniel now?” I asked no one in particular when I was sure he was out of earshot.
Anders looked at Daniel’s retreating figure. “We’ll look after him. Train him to use his magic. He can live at the farm with me. Bree said she might like him as an apprentice so he’ll have work if he wants it.”
“Is that wise?” asked Evan. He was still suspicious, I could tell. Daniel had been an intricate part of the Brotherhood for his whole life, and their way to find and track witches, as well as their protection. Daniel was a valuable asset and they’d lost him. Even I could see they wouldn’t be willing to give him up so easily. Plus, Morgan was Daniel’s father. There was no telling what sort of scars, or blood-loyalty, lay there, though I suspected there was none, but my word might not be enough to secure Daniel’s tenuous position in the community.
“We have to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s one of our own.” Anders’ voice was firm. “Plus, we can show him a different life as a witch, a more natural life. It will be part of his rehabilitation.”
“Before you put him back into the wild?”
“Yep.” Anders and I shared a smile before he added, “And his intel, whatever he is, will mean a lot.” Ah, witches. Always an ulterior motive and may I never forget it.
“The Council will be interested to hear,” mused Étoile. “If Morgan survived this, we need to know where to find him, not just the identities of the members of this organisation. Someone has protected them from prosecution all these years. We need to know who. If things change with the Council soon, we’ll be better prepared.”
“You really think he survived?” I couldn’t bring myself to mutter Morgan’s name. Calling him uncle was even more unlikely. I was having a hard time accepting that we were related, that he was my mother’s brother. For years, I wondered about my parents, finally laying them to rest a year ago. After that, I found out a little about my father’s family and nothing about my mother’s until these past few days. I should have prepared myself for the worst, but I didn’t think anything could be as bad as the truth I now knew.
Gage took a long sniff of the air. “He isn’t among the bodies.”
“Maybe he’s still inside the house?” I was glad Daniel couldn’t hear the almost hopeful note in my voice. Perhaps I was a cruel person to wish someone dead, especially when his son would have to bear the memory and the loss harder than I, but I couldn’t help it. Having Morgan gone would be a huge relief.
“I don’t think so,” said Annalise. “But there are other bodies in there. That man who hurt us, the one missing teeth, he’s one of the dead but they haven’t found him yet.”
“May he rot in hell,” added Beau.
I didn’t say anything to that. To confess relief would feel wrong, but I felt it, felt glad even that the world was rid such an awful excuse for a human being.
“Even if Morgan were dead, the Brotherhood is a large organisation. There will be someone to take his place.” Evan was solemn. He hadn’t spoken to me much last night about everything that happened and I sensed he was worried more than angry. I put everyone in danger by coming here. Was it worth it to ensure Annalise’s life? Did the one matter more than the many? In this moment, for me, it did. Still, it was too late for regrets now. Perhaps some things were best left unspoken. I slipped my hand into Evan’s, holding my breath as his fingers closed over mine. He looked down at me and smiled slightly as I leaned into him.
It was over.
We might not have won the war yet, but we’d won a battle. For now.
“I’ll go check on Daniel. Make sure he’s okay,” offered Étoile, striding off after him. “Meet you back at the car.”
“You’re all welcome to stay,” Anders said, but he was looking at me. Offering me the chance to come home. One glance told me everything he wanted me to know: that I could return home to my country, the one I’d fled, and start again. If he’d asked me on one of summer’s blazing hot days, instead of on this windswept hill overlooking the place I’d been held captive, and a party to destroying, I might have been more open to the idea.
“Thanks for the offer,” I said, because I was polite, at least. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem. You’re welcome any time.” Anders moved off to talk to Gage, Annalise and Beau but I saw Gage glancing at me and knew he heard Anders’ offer and hoped I wasn’t going to take it. But it wasn’t his choice to make, even if he wished it were.
I turned away as Evan gave my hand a little tug and we walked off, just far enough to talk without being overheard. I was looking forward to some real alone time with him, and some time to heal too, but waiting at home was Kitty, probably worried out of her mind. Étoile would be coming home with us too. Perhaps some time at Evan’s home might be the cure. I was pretty sure I could put up with Micah for a couple of weeks, if I tried.
“Do you want to stay, Stella?” Evan’s voice, for once, was unsure. Looking up at him, I wondered how much it cost him to say that. He made a lot of sacrifices for me, living where I wanted, managing his business from afar. Now he was giving me the option to stay in my home country. I couldn’t help wonder what it would mean for him, for us, if I chose to stay. He pressed on, “This is your home, your country.”
“No,” I said, with absolute certainty. Slipping my hand from his, I moved in closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. After a moment, Evan’s arm slid around me, hugging me into his warm body as I thought about how my life had changed. I had a home to call my own, a boyfriend I loved and cherished who made me happy, friends I cared about, a job I enjoyed. My life shone with potential. I had none of those things in my own country, the soil on which I now stood. I didn’t want to lose any of it. One day, I would come back, but it wouldn’t be today and it wouldn’t be forever. Though I was open to visiting, now I knew I had someone to come back for and maybe even friends to see.
The wind rose around us, sending leaves scattering into the air in a colourful dance and I watched them for a moment before I spoke again. “No, I want to go home.”
Stella Mayweather book 4 will be available in 2012.
About the author
Author and journalist Camilla Chafer has written for newspapers, magazines and websites throughout the world. She is also the author/ editor of several non-fiction books and lives in London, UK.
Visit Camilla online at www.camillachafer.com for deleted scenes, chapter previews and more, and join her newsletter maili
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Devious Magic
Copyright: Camilla Chafer
Published: 21 December 2011
ISBN: 978-0-9569086-2-9
Publisher: Audacious
British English version.
The right of Camilla Chafer to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
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