“I’m already late for rounds.” For a sixteen-year-old, Nora was remarkably strong. She yanked at my arm until it threatened to pull out of the socket. It must have been all the horseback riding she did back in Windsor Falls. “You can talk to Morgan later.”
“I’m not sure you understand our respective positions here,” I said, following along behind her as she approached Alana’s house. “I outrank you. Everyone outranks you.”
“Morgan assigned me to heal the witches,” Nora replied. “Morgan assigned you to help me, so what I say goes.”
“In your dreams—”
“You promised.”
I watched Nora’s lip quiver but couldn’t tell whether or not it was an act. I decided to err on the side of caution. “Fine. I promised. What’s our first stop?”
Nora gave a satisfied grin. “Alana. She takes up most of my energy, so it’s best if we work on her first.”
I let Nora lead the way. Morgan had vanished into another house anyway. The dream could wait until later in the day, when there were no other witches around to listen to my report.
Yvette and Yvonne waited on the front porch for us. Yvette nursed a mug of restorative tea, wrapped in a purple shawl, while Yvonne rocked on the swinging bench.
Yvette lifted her mug in greeting. “Morning, ladies.”
“Hi,” Nora said, kissing Yvette on the cheek. Yvonne scowled. “How’s Alana?”
“Same as ever.”
“We’ll be quick,” Nora promised.
Nora and I let ourselves in. Alana’s room was at the very back of the house, past the trio’s collection of various indoor plants, flowers, and succulents. Alana herself was no more than an empty vessel. She slept soundly in her bed, her chest rising and falling too evenly to be considered natural.
“I have a theory,” Nora said, kneeling beside Alana’s bed and taking the witch’s hand in her own. “But if I tell you about it, you have to keep it a secret.”
“What kind of theory?”
Nora looked up at me, emitting a pink haze as she transferred energy to Alana. “Do you feel auras? Does each witch have a distinct touch to you?”
“I suppose,” I replied, not sure where Nora was going with this. “I think of everyone in relation to spices. Morgan reminds me of cinnamon, but Karma is more oregano.”
Nora laughed lightly at the comparison. “I guess that’s one way to look at it. To me, Kennedy and Alana feel the same.”
“So?”
Nora brushed Alana’s hair across the pillow. “So I think Alana is Kennedy’s mother.”
5
Kennedy
Gwenlyn and Nora were late. It was half past twelve, and with every additional minute, I worried that something bad had happened to them. I was also hungry. Nora’s snacks had lasted for the morning, but I was in dire need of hot food, and I had never been particularly gifted at catching or preparing wild game. If Gwenlyn and Nora didn’t show up with a picnic in the next five minutes, I was ready to take down the ward myself to raid the kitchen at the Summers house.
With nothing else to entertain me, I spent my time working out. Jogging around the perimeter of Yew Hollow kept me warm, and it allowed me to further investigate the ward. Whatever trapdoor Gwenlyn had created was well hidden. She was serious about keeping me out of Yew Hollow. I didn’t take offense. Agreeing to help Nora—and me, by extension—was a huge step for Gwenlyn. I knew how difficult it was for her to go against Morgan’s orders.
Finally, near one o’clock, as I lounged on the hood of Nora’s car, I heard the crunch of footsteps through the leaves on my side of the ward. I lifted my head to see Gwenlyn walking toward me, clad in an army green bomber jacket and a black scarf, still favoring one leg over the other.
“Look alive,” she said.
She tossed something across the road, which I caught one-handed. I inspected the object, unwrapping the aluminum foil to check the contents. “Is this a veggie wrap? You couldn’t have sprung for some chicken?”
“We’re a little low on supplies,” Gwenlyn retorted. She joined me on the car and handed me a thermos of hot tea. “You know, you could always walk to the next town over and pick up a few things. You think you deserve chicken? I’ve been eating homemade tofu for months.”
I wrinkled my nose at the thought and bit down into the wrap. “I’d prefer not to stray too far from Nora. Speaking of which, where is my little sister? I thought she was supposed to tag along with you on these little excursions.”
“Morgan needed her,” Gwenlyn answered. “Once-a-day rounds aren’t enough anymore. We’re working around the clock to make sure the coven is healthy enough to keep their hearts beating.”
Lunch tasted bitter on my tongue, but I wasn’t sure it was due to the greens. “And she’s still trying to convince everyone not to kill me?”
“Doing her best.”
I shook my head. “Sometimes I can’t believe that a few months ago, I thought I was merely unlucky.”
Gwenlyn reclined on Nora’s car. Her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold air. “About that. How long have you struggled with controlling your craft?”
“As long as I can remember,” I told her. “Even when I was a kid, I seemed to be lighting things on fire without meaning to.”
“It’s natural to not understand the extent of your strength,” Gwen said. “Orphaned witches aren’t unheard of. Those that grow up without a coven eventually realize that they’re different from ordinary humans. You and I were exceptions. Seeing ghosts made me certifiable until I understood what I was, but you should’ve learned to control yourself. Elemental witches are usually very in tune with themselves.”
“Are you scolding me?” I asked her. “Because I’m not sure what good that will do either of us.”
A gust of wind rustled through the trees, and Gwenlyn ducked her chin into her scarf. “Not at all. I’m pretty sure the reason you had so much trouble with your witchcraft was because you were made the catalyst of this curse at birth.”
I chewed thoughtfully. “Why would someone curse a baby?”
“Good question,” Gwenlyn replied. “Here’s the thing, Kennedy. In order to make you the catalyst, the witch that cast this curse had to have met you in person. Like I said before, there has to be some kind of connection between you and the Summers coven for the curse to have worked. Did anyone in your life make more of an impression that someone else?”
I shrugged, flicking a piece of limp lettuce off of my finger. “I bounced from boarding school to boarding school when I was a kid. Then I dropped out and bounced from city to city. I was never in one place long enough to get to know anybody.”
“Someone knew you long enough to use you as revenge,” she said. “Let’s start from the beginning. What’s the first memory you have as a child?”
Gwenlyn blew into her cupped hands. Thought the snow had stopped, the air was bitingly cold. I slid off the car, reached in through the window for the tea tin, and set it next to Gwenlyn. She nodded her thanks. I finished off the last bite of my vegetable wrap, wishing desperately for a bowl of hot soup, and thought about my childhood.
“All I remember about being a kid was getting into trouble,” I told her. “When I was five, I melted a teacher’s shoes to the floor because he was yelling at me for not paying attention in class. He had burns on the bottom of his feet. They had to take him to the hospital.”
Gwenlyn grimaced. “What about your parents?”
A chill crept up the back of my neck. “You already know part of this story. I never met my mother. She died in childbirth, and my father remarried quickly.”
“To Nora’s mom.”
“Yes,” I said, pursing my lips. “Adrienne.”
“And you don’t like her.”
“She never liked me,” I replied.
“How did she meet your dad?”
“I can’t say I ever bothered to ask.”
Gwenlyn studied me as I crumpled up the leftover aluminum foil into a ball and
tossed it into the air. At the top of its arch, I quickly created a small ward beneath it. The ward caught the aluminum, and the ball of trash hovered above us like a tiny recreation of the full moon. I noticed Gwenlyn’s gaze.
“Why are you staring at me?” I asked.
“I’m trying to decide whether or not to tell you something.”
My focus shattered and the aluminum foil dropped from the sky and landed in the damp dirt as I turned to face Gwenlyn. Of course she was withholding information from me. Information was leverage, and once she revealed it, Gwenlyn had one less bargaining chip to control me with. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re keeping things from me.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“That fact has been well-established,” I snapped, feeling my temper rise. “But we’re working together now. I have to trust you, because you’re the only person on the other side of that ward that can keep Nora safe. So why don’t you extend the same courtesy and tell me what you know? It’s my life on the line, remember?”
“Easy,” Gwenlyn warned, pointing to my hands. “You’re getting hot.”
I looked down. My skin glowed orange. Warmth boiled beneath my jacket, heating up my entire body from the inside out. I shook free of my outer layer, letting the frigid air cool off my overflowing witchcraft, but the hair at the nape of my neck was already damp with sweat.
“Wow,” Gwenlyn said. “No wonder you had so much trouble growing up. I can’t imagine what it was like blowing up every time you got the least bit agitated.”
“Don’t change the subject,” I ordered. “Are you going to tell me what you know or not?”
Gwenlyn sighed, blowing a wisp of hair away from her face. “Fine. Do you remember when we first met?”
“Yeah, I punched you in the face.”
“Exactly. It should’ve been easy for me to beat you.” Gwenlyn picked at a hangnail on her thumb. “I’ve been training in offensive spells for ten years, whereas you didn’t know what you really were. Even if you had, I should’ve taken you down. Not to boast, but I’m at a much higher level than most witches.”
I uncapped the thermos Gwenlyn had brought and sniffed the contents. Rose-scented steam floated up to meet my nose, and I wondered if Nora had infused the tea with one of her trademarked energy spells. “How come I got the upper hand then?”
“First of all, I was tired,” Gwenlyn said. “Before you and Nora came along, I was doing a lot to take care of the coven. Plus I was dealing with some personal things.” Involuntarily, she kneaded her calf muscle through her thick leggings. “I also told you that I suspected you had some kind of personal ward around you at all times. There’s a reason I think that.”
I offered her the thermos. “Which is?”
She took a sip of tea and cleared her throat before continuing. “While I was looking for ways to break this curse, I found out that witches who are born of two magical parents have amplified abilities. That’s why we went after Nora. We had evidence that she was one of these so-called super-powered witches. It explains why she’s so incredibly gifted in healing.”
I rolled my eyes. “You couldn’t have found another superhero witch?”
“They’re rare,” Gwenlyn said. “But it looks like there are two of them in Yew Hollow now.”
“Who?” I asked, bewildered. “Me and Nora? That’s impossible. Our parents aren’t magical at all.”
“Genetics don’t lie, Kennedy.”
I slid off the roof of the car, pacing along the yellow line that marked the edge of the road. “I thought you said men weren’t capable of witchcraft.”
“They aren’t,” Gwenlyn confirmed. “But a boy with a witch for a mother still has witchcraft in his veins. That means your dad was raised by a coven.”
An incredulous laugh founds its way out of my mouth. “I think my father would’ve told me if he grew up in a commune of witches.”
“Or would he?” Gwenlyn challenged. “What mortal would risk telling his family that he knew a life other than a human one? It would make anyone sound insane, which is why most men who branched off from witch families keep their histories private.”
It dawned on me that this wasn’t impossible. I had spent so little time with my father growing up that he could’ve easily hidden something like that from me. “And what about Adrienne? If she was a witch, wouldn’t Nora and I be able to see her aura or whatever?”
“No, because both of you were raised as mortals,” she replied. “That’s what interests me most. Adrienne purposely ignored that both her daughter and stepdaughter were witches. It’s straight-up coven drama.”
I pulled my hair away from my collar, letting the wind float through the fiery strands. “I don’t understand any of this, and I really can’t picture our parents getting wrapped up in this.”
“Which is why you need to go back to Windsor Falls,” Gwenlyn said.
I dropped my hands to my sides with a defeated smack. “What?”
She rubbed her hands together over the flame of the tea tin. “The key to breaking this curse is hidden somewhere in your past, Kennedy. I think you already know who hexed the Summers.”
“I do not!”
“But,” she went on pointedly, “I also think someone tampered with your memories in order to cover it up.”
“Someone stole my memories?” I repeated, lifting an eyebrow. “Seems a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”
“In our world, nothing is far-fetched,” Gwenlyn answered. “Memory wiping isn’t easy, but considering the scale of this curse, I wouldn’t be surprised if the witch installed a few measures to ensure the coven’s ultimate destruction. After all, it would be far too simple if we could just ask you who hexed Yew Hollow.”
“Okay, say that’s true. How are we supposed to retrieve these lost memories of mine?”
“There’s a ritual—”
“Of course there is.”
Gwenlyn ignored my comment. “To perform it, we’ll have to infiltrate your memories, but we need something to work off.”
“Like what?”
“Photographs are easiest,” she replied. “A picture’s worth a thousand words, remember? That’s why I need you to go home. Did your parents keep photo albums?”
I laughed without humor. “Not of me. Adrienne would never keep something like that. There are plenty of Nora around.”
“Those probably won’t do us much good,” Gwenlyn said. “We need access to your past, not Nora’s. What about your dad? Would he have kept photos anywhere? Doesn’t every parent have baby pictures?”
I shrugged. “If he does, I’ve never seen them.”
“There has to be something,” she insisted. “You need to go look. Otherwise, we’re back to square one.”
“No way,” I said. Now that my temper had burned off, it was getting cold again. I picked up my jacket. “I’m not leaving Nora here alone.”
“If you ever want Nora to be able to leave Yew Hollow, then this is your only option.” Gwenlyn maneuvered off of her seat on the car, landing heavily on her injured leg. She tried to hide her discomfort, but I noticed her wince of pain. “I’ll take care of Nora. You have my word.”
I gestured to her imbalanced stance. “How are you going to manage that with one good leg?”
Gwenlyn subtly steadied herself, but even as her shoulders leveled out, it was clear that the action cost her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re limping.”
“No—”
I shot forward and landed an easy push to Gwenlyn’s left shoulder. She stumbled, instinctively stepping back on her injured limb. It crumpled beneath her and she nearly fell over, but I caught her under the arm and hauled her back to her feet. She shoved herself away from me.
“Get off!”
“What’s wrong with your leg?” I challenged, stepping into her personal space. “If it was something so simple as an ankle sprain, you would’ve mixed a healing salve for it already. You’re act
ively trying to hide it, which means you’re ashamed of whatever it is. You might as well just come clean with me, because I’m not letting you back inside the ward until you do. I beat you once in a fight, and I’ll do it again.”
Gwenlyn glared at me, simmering with her golden-green craft. For a second, I thought she might actually prefer to duel her way out of telling me the truth. Then she leaned over, yanked the leg of her pants up, and pivoted around.
“What the hell is that?” I demanded, kneeling down for a better look at the intricate pattern that decorated Gwenlyn’s calf.
“It’s a witch’s mark,” she grumbled. “Dark magic. A nice little present from whoever cast this curse.”
“But you’re not a Summers!”
She tugged her leggings down to cover the mark once more. “Which is why I’m a little more than worried about it.”
“Does Morgan know about this?”
“She does, but not the extent of it,” Gwenlyn admitted. “It’s grown since I first got it. And it’s feeding me power.”
I blinked. “Run that by me again?”
“I get power surges,” she said. “Big ones. I need this curse lifted as much as everyone else. That’s one of the reasons I agreed to help you.” She looked down, her lower lip trembling. “I am terrified that this thing is going to take over me.”
It was the first time Gwenlyn had showed any kind of vulnerability in my presence. She was a hard shell to crack, but it was nice to know that she was actually a normal human being under her defenses.
“Why hide it then?” I asked gently. “Wouldn’t it be better to tell Morgan that it’s progressing?”
She discreetly wiped her eyes with the collar of her bomber jacket. “First, Morgan has enough to worry about right now. Second, I’m hesitant to give up the extra power.”
“But it’s dark magic—”
“You think I don’t know that?” she interrupted. “If the limp wasn’t enough to tip you off, it hurts. I’m not enjoying this, but with all that’s going on, I need every advantage until we break this curse.”
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