Chapter Five
“That’s a witch’s mark, all right,” Morgan declared, examining my calf. The mark flared beneath her touch and turned bright blue, the same color as the scar on my arm. “Whoa. Never seen that happen before though.”
“How many times have you seen this?” I asked. Morgan, like myself, had a haunted past, but I knew she had never used dark magic herself.
Her lips tightened in a grim expression. “This would be the third.”
“So what does it mean?” My leg tingled as the mark faded back to black. “Did someone intentionally target me?”
To my relief, Morgan shook her head. “Haven’t you seen the clouds? They stop at the county line. If that storm was any indication, whoever cast this enchantment included all of Yew Hollow. That can only mean one thing.”
“They’re targeting the coven,” Yvette supplied. She paced back and forth in front of the yew tree. “Gwen, you just happened to get caught in the crossfire. If you weren’t pumped full of ancient magic, that attack would’ve killed you.”
One look at Morgan’s troubled face told me that Yvette was right.
“Yvette, I need you to go back to the house,” she ordered. “Send a message to the heads of the covens in the alliance. Tell them to check for dark magic users in and around their areas. We need to kill this thing off before it gets out of hand.”
“Will do.”
Yvette hurried off. Halfway across the square, her wispy gray aura carried her away into the wind. Within seconds, she was out of sight.
Morgan made to stand, but I caught her wrists and pulled her toward me. “Morgan, be honest with me. How bad is this?”
She tucked the burnt ends of my hair behind my ear. “It’s not good,” she admitted. “Let’s put it this way. If the yew tree couldn’t protect us from this attack, then nothing could have. Whoever did this means business. The sooner we catch the culprit, the better. Can you stand?”
I held on to Morgan’s forearms as she helped me to my feet. My marked leg felt heavier than the other, but I wasn’t sure if that was a product of my paranoid imagination. “What do we do?”
“You don’t do anything,” Morgan answered. “I need you to rest. Get your strength back up, Gwen. Talk to your sister. Maybe the two of you can work out why she’s stuck here while you’re recovering.”
I rotated my leg to get another glimpse of the witch’s mark. “And what about this?”
Morgan frowned. “I don’t want to alarm you, but Yvette wasn’t exaggerating. It would’ve killed you. I imagine it will take several rounds of healing spells to get rid of it.”
“Should I be worried?”
She swallowed hard. “Let’s not think about that yet. We need to get home. I have work to do.”
She looped my arm around her neck, but before I could protest that I didn’t need her help, a curious movement at the base of the yew tree caught my eye. “Wait! Look, Morgan.”
I pointed to the grass below the tree. Yesterday, it had been bright green, lush and full from the summer rainstorms. Today, it was dry and dead, as though winter had come early. Then, right before our eyes, another inch of grass withered and died right before our eyes.
“What the—?” Morgan muttered.
I inched forward to get a closer look, but Morgan tugged me away. The destruction spread further, increasing in power every time it claimed a bit of the earth as its own. Flowers wilted, shedding petals like tears, and the leaves on the trees bypassed orange and red and went straight to brown. They dried and shriveled, shaking and sad.
Morgan took my hand. “We need to go. Now.”
Yew Hollow died faster than we could return to the Summers house. By the time we arrived home, the world was slate-gray from the ground to the sky. Not a single blade of grass remained untouched by the pernicious spell. Thankfully, its effects did not seem to extend to humans. I half-expected the deadening gray to crawl up my legs and consume me, dragging me into the ashy ground.
A number of witches were already gathered at the house, awaiting Morgan’s instructions. I took in their worried expressions. Some of them remembered the last time Yew Hollow had been the target of a dark magic attack. None of us wanted to go through that again. We were bombarded with a flurry of questions as Morgan helped me up the porch steps and into the house.
“What’s going on, Morgan?”
“Is it Dominic? I thought he was dead!”
“Why isn’t the yew tree protecting the town?”
“Listen up!” Morgan bellowed over the clamor. Immediately, the modest crowd in the living room fell quiet. Morgan lowered her voice. “This is not the time to panic. It will do us no good. That being said, stay vigilant. We cannot take this lightly. I want everyone here in ten minutes so that we can come up with a plan. Where’s Yvette?”
Yvette’s hand rose over the heads of the witches. “Here.”
“Did you make contact with the other coven heads?”
“No one in the greater New England area has reported any dark magic activity,” Yvette replied. “I’m waiting to hear from those farther out.”
“Keep me posted,” Morgan requested. “Everyone else—”
A shriek interrupted Morgan’s instructions, and a commotion erupted amongst the witches near the fireplace. Voices broke out again, this time in panicked confusion.
“Quiet!” Morgan barked. “Everyone quiet! What’s going on over there?”
“It’s Alana,” someone replied. “She’s seizing.”
Morgan shoved through the throng. “Move. I said move!”
I followed behind Morgan as the crowd parted. The witches nearest Alana knelt on the floor next to her, keeping her convulsions contained as she writhed uncontrollably. I averted my gaze as bile rose in my throat. Alana’s blue eyes had dilated; her pupils were so large that her irises looked black. The strands of her bright red hair tangled together as her body contorted itself into inhuman shapes.
Morgan dove to her knees at Alana’s side. “I need a healer!”
At once, two witches pushed forward, both of whom possessed healing abilities of separate varieties. They joined Morgan on the floor, clasping hands with the coven leader. The familiar buzz of witchcraft grew. Morgan’s bright blue aura combined with the healers’ cobalt and violet colors. As the hues wrapped around Alana, swathing her in a cocoon of whirling lights, her tremors lessened in intensity. The room calmed, the craft faded, and Alana lay still before the fireplace.
“Is she… dead?” Yvette ventured in a small voice.
Morgan pressed two fingers to Alana’s neck. “No,” she announced to the great relief of the witnesses. “Just unconscious. Yvette? Yvonne? Take her home.”
Morgan surreptitiously wiped tears from her cheeks as Yvette and her sister levitated Alana from the floor and out of the living room. When she approached me, I slipped my hand into hers.
“Coincidence?”
“No, indeed,” she muttered, squeezing my fingers. She raised her voice to address the remaining witches. “Everyone else, please come into the dining room. We need to discuss a course of action.”
The women sprang into action to obey Morgan’s request, shuffling into the dining room, which once again expanded to accommodate the growing number of bodies. More of the coven arrived in groups, responding to the unspoken call of their sisters, aunts, and cousins. Morgan stood at the head of the table. Some witches took a seat while others paced or fidgeted, unable to contain their nerves long enough to stay still. Usually, I would have been one of them, but the mark crawling up my calf felt as though as it had taken hold of my muscles. My leg cramped, and I drew out a chair just in time to catch myself before my injured limb betrayed me.
Winnie cast a chill over my shoulder. In the recent events, I forgot that Yew Hollow’s sudden devastation wasn’t the only thing on my plate. Winnie deserved attention too, and I had never been good at prioritizing.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. If it were possible, I would’ve held her hand.
“What I said earlier was out of line. I didn’t mean to insinuate that your coven was any less than ours.”
“I appreciate the apology, but it’s not necessary,” Winnie replied. “If anything, I owe you one. I was insensitive earlier. I automatically assumed that our lives would reflect each other’s. That wasn’t realistic.”
I could see how Winnie and I might have interacted with each other throughout the course of our lives if hers hadn’t been cut short. We were opposite in interests and personality, but we both possessed immense respect for those around us. I sensed that we would disagree during a lot of our discussions, but the important thing was that we could talk everything out.
“How about we agree to not make assumptions about each other?” I suggested. “Deal?”
“Deal.” Winnie smiled softly. “Now tell me what happened to your leg, because my assumptions are actually kind of worrying me.”
Morgan clapped her hands together, commanding the room’s attention.
“Later,” I murmured to Winnie.
“Everyone here?” Morgan asked the room. There was a general mumble of consent, and Morgan nodded. “All right then. Settle down. Here’s what we know.”
The witches fell quiet. All eyes were on Morgan, including mine. It was times like these I remembered why she had become coven leader. There was something about Morgan that the other witches didn’t have, a type of unwavering determination that could not be derailed by a bump—or a gaping canyon—in the road.
“Yesterday’s storm was not one of natural development,” Morgan announced. “If that was not obvious already, it appears that the entire population of Yew Hollow has fled the area.”
This was news to the witches who had not accompanied us to the town square. Murmurs broke out as the women discussed what the impromptu evacuation could mean.
“While this is not an ideal situation,” Morgan went on, “it does give us the freedom to tend to matters without alerting the townspeople to our true nature again.”
“What matters are those exactly?” someone voiced from the back of the room.
“Don’t you sense it?” Morgan questioned, gazing at each witch in turn. “The uncertainty in the air? The scent on the wind? Something has shifted, ladies, and that shift bears all the signs of dark magic.”
Anxious conversation swelled, drowning out the rest of Morgan’s words. I resisted the urge to stick my fingers in my ears. The low drone of worrying buzzed like an annoying kitchen timer in my brain. I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing my headache to subside. My head pounded with each beat of my heart. It was time for another round of healing spells, but the coven was otherwise occupied.
“Quiet!” Morgan boomed. She was a small woman, but her voice echoed throughout the house, bouncing off the walls until she had the coven’s attention again. “What did I say ten minutes ago? This is not the time to panic. If you cannot control yourselves, I must ask you to leave. Anyone?”
No one moved. Everyone knew that this was the first big challenge the coven was to face in recent years. All of the witches needed to be informed.
“Good,” Morgan said. “First things first—”
“Can you blame them?”
I leaned forward to see who had interrupted Morgan. Camryn Summers stood up at the opposite end of the table. She was one of Morgan’s distant cousins, a few members removed from the central bloodline. Subtle differences separated her from the rest of the coven. Her golden hair was curled in perfectly messy ringlets, and she had hazel eyes instead of gray or green ones. Her curvaceous figure was the envy of the coven, many of whom were too thin to be considered sensual. Camryn was known to use her appeal to get what she wanted. Morgan told me stories from when they were kids in the coven together, and I’d seen enough of Camryn’s antics to know that her interjection meant trouble. My hackles rose as soon as she spoke up. To interrupt the coven leader was to declare an immediate sign of disrespect.
Morgan made no indication to give Camryn the floor. She remained standing, cocked one eyebrow in her cousin’s direction, and waited for the bomb to drop.
“Our coven is frightened,” Camryn said. Her voice grated on me. It was low and raspy like a chain smoker’s. “You cannot dismiss the severity of this situation. We won’t stand for it. The town has fallen, Morgan, and you have done nothing to prevent it from happening.”
I tensed in my seat at Camryn’s accusation, but a throb in my calf reminded me that I was in no condition to defend Morgan’s honor at the moment. It was a good thing Morgan’s patience was not so limited as mine. She merely appeared bored.
“Yew Hollow is far from ‘fallen,’” Morgan said, “but by all means, continue your diatribe.”
Camryn took the bait. “Ten years ago, you promised us protection under any and all circumstances. We had no choice but to accept your word as true and to go along with your harebrained schemes. When the time came to elect a new coven leader, you robbed us of that opportunity too.”
“It wasn’t your decision,” I snapped at Camryn. “Cassandra—”
“Yes, baby Morgan,” Camryn interrupted. Anger coursed through my veins, but a look from Morgan prevented me from retaliating prematurely. “It is indeed tradition for the current leader to select her successor, but it is also tradition for her to request the opinions of her coven. Do I need to remind you that Morgan abandoned this coven at eighteen and did not return for a decade?”
Malia spoke up from her seat across from me. “Are we really arguing about a leadership switch that occurred over ten years ago when there is a more trying situation at hand? Camryn, sit down—”
“Doesn’t it bother you, Malia?” Camryn asked, honing in on the eldest Summers sister. “If I recall correctly, you were being groomed as the next coven leader before the prodigal daughter fell back on her family. Did it sting when your mother decided that you were no longer her favorite for the position?”
“Morgan was better suited for the role,” Malia replied calmly. I admired her composure. If Camryn had said something like that to me, I would’ve hit her with the first curse that came to mind. “In case you’ve forgotten, Camryn, Yew Hollow has been at peace. We have not faced a challenge like this since Morgan’s inception, and you would do well to thank her for that rather than berate her leadership skills.”
“Morgan instated laws that changed the very core of our existence,” Camryn countered. She began to stroll leisurely around the room, trailing her fingers across the shoulders of the witches sitting at the table. “Hiding from the mortals, playing games with covens weaker than our own—”
“Cooperation is not a game,” Morgan said. “No one coven is omnipotent. It is essential for us to work together if we intend to keep our kind from dying out.”
“And what have those covens ever done for us?” Camryn challenged. I sneered as she brushed by me, but she didn’t dare to touch me. “The alliance was supposedly built on a foundation of sisterhood, but where are they now? Where’s the help that was promised to us in times like these?”
“I have already sent word to the other covens,” Morgan replied. Camryn made to stroll past her, but Morgan stepped in her path. “Any other questions?”
Camryn’s answering smile was wily at best. “My question is how you’ll decide to solve our newest problem, Morgan.”
Morgan leveled a stare at Camryn. “If you sit down,” she said in a calm, collected voice, “I would be happy to address that as I planned to do five minutes ago.”
The witches glared at each other, their noses only inches apart. Finally, Camryn blinked. She gave Morgan one more knowing smile before sauntering back to her seat. Subtly, so that only I could see it, Morgan rolled her eyes.
“As I was saying,” Morgan continued. “This spell has already affected the majority of Yew Hollow. We cannot allow it to permeate any further. Since the townspeople are gone, there’s no reason for us to forego a good defense. I want to build a ward large enough to encompass the entire town. Who
will volunteer their efforts to do so?”
A number of hands went up, including mine. Morgan counted heads, assigning tasks to each witch. When she reached me, she paused.
“Not you, Gwen.”
“Why not?” I challenged. “I’m fine, Morgan. I swear.”
“You’re not fine,” Morgan replied. “And until I figure out whose mark that is on your calf, you won’t do anything other than rest. Understood?”
There was no room to argue. Morgan’s mind was made up.
“Fine,” I grumbled.
Morgan addressed the room again. “That’s it then. Those of you who are working on the ward, let’s get started right away. The rest of you should research the nature of yesterday’s storm.”
The witches surged to their feet, but Camryn wasn’t through with causing trouble for the day. “And what about Alana?” she questioned, raising her voice to be heard over the bustle.
“What about her?” Morgan asked wearily.
“Are we supposed to believe that her collapse was pure coincidence?” Camryn asked. The witches paused to hear her out. “A storm comes through Yew Hollow, and all of a sudden one of our own kind falls ill without explanation. Who’s to say this ailment won’t spread?”
Morgan snapped her fingers. In an instant, time slowed. The coven was frozen in place, unaware of the sudden change. Only Morgan, Camryn, and I remained in full possession of our faculties. The spell to expand and slow time was not a simple or easy one. Morgan rarely employed it, and I had a feeling that she only did it now to remind Camryn of her power.
“Do you mean to incite a riot?” Morgan asked the other witch. “Is that what you want? To instill fear and mistrust in this coven? Because I can assure you that it will not further your agenda, whatever that may be. It will only make this situation all the more dangerous.”
Camryn gazed around the room at her frozen sisters, but she looked more amused than impressed. “You haven’t changed, Morgan. You can pretend all you like, but I remember what you were like back then.”
“You mean when we were children,” Morgan retorted. “I never understood the competition between us, Cam. You made it what it was.”
“You were handed opportunities that most of us could never dream of, and you squandered them,” Camryn replied. “Then, after years of neglecting us, you picked up right where you left off. You do things your way, Morgan, with no regard to what the rest of the coven needs.”
“My way has kept this coven safe for ten years,” Morgan declared. She checked her watch, the hands of which had slowed too. It was not safe to slow time for longer than a minute or so. “And no one else has complained thus far.”
“Why would they when you so obviously have already picked your favorites?” Camryn pointed at me. “Exhibit A. Why include Gwenlyn in this conversation? She isn’t even a true Summers witch, yet you make a point to shove her presence in everyone’s faces. You favor an outsider over your own family.”
“I am not an outsider,” I said indignantly.
Morgan silenced me with a quick look. “Gwenlyn is an essential member of this coven,” she said to Camryn. “She saved my life and yours by extension. I suggest you treat her with the utmost respect.” She checked her watch again. This conversation was nearing a dangerous length. “Camryn, I have one last thing to say to you before we wrap this us.”
“What’s that?” Camryn snapped.
In a flash, Morgan disappeared from my end of the table and reappeared near Camryn. Camryn stumbled backward, tripping over her chair. For the first time since she had stood up to challenge Morgan, she looked unsure of her decision to do so. Morgan loomed over her, her eyes and expression dark with the severity of her next sentence.
“Do not interfere,” Morgan began, her voice quiet but authoritative, “with any aspect of today’s work. If I hear so much as a whisper that you’re stirring up trouble, I will mix the batch of black salt myself. Understood?”
I contained a wicked grin. Black salt was a mixture of sea salt and yew ash. The combination was meant to ward off those who were unwelcome. If a witch betrayed her coven, black salt was used to banish the perpetrator from returning to her sisters. It was a depressing and lonely fate. I doubted Morgan would ever go through with the threat, but the shocked look on Camryn’s face satisfied me to no end.
“Understood,” Camryn replied through clenched teeth.
“Good.”
Morgan snapped again. Time resumed at its normal pace. The coven looked between the feuding witches, awaiting Morgan’s answer to Camryn’s question.
“We are not yet aware if Alana’s illness is linked to the storm or not,” Morgan announced. “Her collapse might simply be a reaction to the stressful scenario at hand. We’ll monitor her closely and keep you updated. In the meantime, I expect your full attention to be trained on defending Yew Hollow. That goes for everyone in this room.”
Witch Myth: Wildfire- The Beginning Page 5
