by Mira Monroe
“It’s a trick,” I say.
Rhydian puts a hand out in front of me, to keep me from walking over to them. “She’s part of the High Coven,” he reasons. “Wait a minute and let’s see what she says.”
I can’t believe his calm demeanor, but I take the advice. I take a deep, even breath, and it calms me — sort of. Someone needs to answer for taking my father and Lucy, not to mention the horrible condition in which we found them. My inner rage is building, and I’m ready to go crazy, but I decide to put it on tap until I need it.
Chapter Eighteen
The grounds at McKinnon Manor are immaculate. The lush green grass frames several acres around the house which looks more like a modern castle surrounded by forest. A black Lincoln Town Car is coming down the drive. Whoever’s in the car must be doing a double take at the crowd on the front left side of the yard.
There we are: the rogue Guardians, my father and me. We’re all waiting to hear Sabine’s explanation for finding my father and Lucy on the property, abused and locked in an old dungeon. Sabine has several security guards with her, and neither group looks like they want to talk.
“Who’s coming down the drive?” Tullen asks. The way he’s staring at the car, you’d think he could see right through it, but the blacked-out windows reveal nothing.
Sabine doesn’t answer Tullen’s question. Instead, she gets right to it: “There must be a huge mistake. I didn’t know, I really did not know that part of the grounds was being used. My security is only set up in detail for the main house. That part of the property and the underground have been closed for years and only kept for their historical significance.” I quirk my eyebrow at her. She continues, “The property is registered with the historical society. We only have alarms on the second floor in case of intruders or vandals.” Sabine’s face doesn’t give much away, but I know she’s worried.
She should be.
Does she really think that I can believe this? That there could have been two prisoners held captive below her home, and yet she knew nothing? That’s insane. I look at my father, and he’s struggling. It looks like his stomach is bleeding and Quinn is bandaging him up. I need to get him medical treatment. I could just transport us away and get him to safety. That thought gets interrupted quickly.
BAM.
A huge light flashes at the back edge of the back of the property. It radiates wide and strobes a couple times. I blink to clear my eyes and focus, but I hear it first, a loud, slow clap coming from the woods.
“Excellent. Now the game is afoot. There is my highly regarded evil stepmother, trying to talk her way out of something devilish, I’m sure,” Evan says, his voice is mocking. “And then there’s my niece, naïve enough to believe that her grandmother would care about her.” Evan walks closer to us, along with an army of demons and other magical creatures close behind.
Sabine’s hands cover her mouth, her eyes wide. She stutters, “But you’re… you’re—”
“Dead? I’m sure you’ll continue to wish that was the case, especially with Willow here.” He gestures toward me.
Evan is about twenty feet away. Cross, Rhydian and Tullen are making a barrier of their bodies between Evan and me. Quinn is checking my father’s vitals, and he keeps pulling things out of a bag next to him. My father’s face is tormented, his eyes are dark, and there are bruises and cuts all over his body.
“Evan, I don’t understand. Did you do this?” I ask, not really wanting him to answer, afraid of the outcome.
“Did you know that being the bastard son of Harkin has some privileges? Like blood.” He spits the word as if it tastes rotten. “Sabine is the cause of many deaths. She’s the orchestrator of many events, such as the accident that separated you from your mother.” He points a finger between us. “The problem was, she was hoping to steal you away, but instead Nuala fought, and in the end, she died. Good thing your Daddy Dearest came along, because he saved you from a similar fate.”
Sabine’s eyes are full of tears. “Don’t talk about her! You have no right!” she yells.
Evan’s voice echo’s across the field. “Of course not. No rights for those not full Wiccan or different. You’ll always see to that, stepmother. Welcome to the new world.” Evan waves his hand, and the army waiting behind him yell “Ooh Rah!”
The army is ominous all muscles, broad and horns back from the head. The skin is dark and varies in color along with armor that covers the legs and back. The snarls on their faces and tensed shoulders have them at the ready.
Evan smirks at Sabine. “I have every right, because Harkin’s contract was in place for me to be the next in line with a betrothal of marriage to one of the noble covens.” He waves his hand in the air. “It didn’t matter anymore that I was a bastard, a little different. You saw it. You knew I wasn’t full Wiccan!” Sabine keeps looking from him to me. Evan continues, “You had every intention of killing me, to be rid of the next in line. When that didn’t work, you were responsible for the death sentence given to my Meghan.” Evan’s voice grew louder and his face tortured, “You knew we married in secret. The question is, did you know about the baby?!”
Sabine hangs her head and responds: “You knew Harkin. I didn’t affect his decisions like that. I tried… but all my children were gone. Liam, Nuala and Aiden had taken Willow out of Edayri and away. You were our last child.” Her voice hitches.
“But not your child. Let’s never forget that. I know I haven’t! You don’t like anyone different. Meghan was part fae and part demon, so her life wasn’t as worthy — kind of like me. You gave her a death sentence, so you and Harkin could save the image of the crown and its royal traditions. That was a mistake. Holding onto power that shouldn’t be, is not what the Horned God and the Goddess would want, Sabine. Killing innocents. Tsk-tsk.” He waves his finger back and forth.
Horned God?
The demons rush the open lawn and yell, holding fists and swords aloft. I feel the rush, the change in the air. I use the air to gravitate up from the grass, and my magick comes to life with lightning and power licking all over my body. It feels like controlled static electricity, the tingling becoming so intense, the hum. I point to the line of the first rushing group, and they all sail backward in one motion, knocking back the next group advancing.
Sabine turns to me. “Willow, run! Take your father. This isn’t your fight. I’m so sorry.” Her hair picks up with the wind, and she throws light balls at the demons advancing. The security detail has some type of shockwave guns, which they fire at the advancing army. I look back to see my rogue team in full battle gear, swords drawn. They form a semi-circle protecting my father.
A few of the demons are down on the ground, and Evan floats over them. He has powerful magick — and in this family, I’m not surprised. He drops to the ground, and so do I. We’re only about ten feet from each other. His eyes are changing color; his horns are peeking through his hairline. His skins is changing a dark color. His canine teeth grow as he talks. “I need to end this reign, Willow, and unfortunately, I need not only your powers but your father’s dark powers to abolish this secular monarchy that is nothing but destruction.”
Rhydian is beside me. “So we’re all just collateral damage, then? All is fair in love and war?”
Evan morphs into armor similar to that of the demons all around him, and flexes it with his movements. His sword is thin, like a Samurai’s. He advances toward Rhydian. I throw my hand out and hit Evan with a light ball. It moves him back.
His menacing laugh echoes across the lawn. “Ah, are you protecting Rhydian now? You’re saddling up to the vow and accepting it all?”
“Shut up Evan, and let’s fight!” Rhydian yells.
“All you Guardians are the same,” Evan sneers. “You’re all about the short game and forget the long game.”
“No! You hurt my friend and my father! Your long game? This isn’t a game!” I yell. This is my fight! My anger swells inside my magick, my grief for Mrs. Scott and leaving Daniel. This life!
The manipulation of it all. I’m done! I conjure it all and throw it straight at Evan. It covers his body and he screams when it hits. His arms drop to his side as he falls to the ground. He will not be getting up.
The fighting around me continues. The demons are advancing to help conceal Evan’s downed body. Rhydian hits his wrist band and calls for reinforcements of the Guardians. They are transported right in front him and engage quickly with the demons and Sabine’s security.
Lightening shoots across the sky, but not by my will. Emily along with several warriors and another Valkyrie, are suddenly in front of me ready for battle. Emily winks at me before they charge the demons standing between the castle and me.
The roar of a large cat echoes from the edge of the forest. Marco must have brought support as well. A light glows in pulses as droves of more demons enter.
Quinn shouts at me, “Transport us to the hospital! He’s dying. I can’t help him.”
“Put me down,” my father coughs. I’m at his side. He touches my face. “Willow, my sweet girl. I release my magick—” I scoop him in my arms and we’re on the ground together. This can’t be happening. This can’t. He’s broken, bleeding and his eyes pleading.
“No! Don’t do this. I can’t lose you. I can get you…” My tears puddle in my eyes. I’m shaking. He’s leaving me.
“Another did this… don’t trust High Coven… Sabine…. Evan… Evan is hurting. I’m sorry for…” His hand drops from my cheek. He takes a shallow breath and says, “I freely invoke my magick to my daughter, Willow Sola Warrington… in the Goddess’ name. So mote it be.”
And with that, my father passes away in my arms.
NO!
My screams echo and move everything around me in shockwaves. I don’t care. I wail to the sky and curse it all. I couldn’t save Mrs. Scott; I couldn’t save my father. The rain is tumultuous and instantaneous with my tears — my utter agony. I see nothing but us. Him in my lap, dead in my arms. My magick is there and useless, I can’t bring him back. My family is gone. I’m alone.
Black smoke surrounds us, the rain passing right through. It departs from my father and licks at me. I jerk away it hurts, it’s pain — scorching my skin. His magick surrounds me and pulses at my skin. I scream in agony my flesh burning as I’m lifted into the storming sky. The smoke twists my body and turns me and I want to go with him. I want to go with my dad and my mom. I see her, I’m six. We rush to the car. It flips and flips, we land hard. I’m upside down. Someone pulls me out and throws me to the ground. She’s out and reaching for me. A large beast with wings is in front of me. A sword slices through the air — she grabs her neck. Red. Lots of red. A light — my father yells her name, Nuala! The beast yanks me to my feet. My father’s face stone cold, his hands wave a light from mother to me. I fall and the beast is exploding apart, I cover my face. It’s the last coherent thought I have gasping; I swallow the black smoke to the sound of screams — echoes that are not my own.
The smoke clears and the rain stops. The fighting halts, with all eyes on me.
Ants, they are. To be stepped on.
The ground thunders when I drop to it. I stand up straight, my vision blurred, but I make out Quinn standing near my father. He’s wide-eyed and holding his hands up. I feel the darkness; it speaks to me.
Make them pay. To feel the hurt, the pain.
Rhydian appears in front of me. “Willow?” I see him, he’s cautious his hazel eyes worried, his brows dip with a question. I smell him, his scent like the ocean breeze. The beach, sand… His full lips are moving. He touches my arms and the warmth radiates. My arms are no longer burnt but the remaining smoke hovers around me. His pure magick, his voice, his comforting tenor speaks only to me.
Willow don’t fight it. Accept it. Accept who you are. Don’t leave me, Willow. We are all broken, that’s how the light shines through.
I close my eyes and accept my father’s powerful dark magick.
Chapter Nineteen
The sound of the wind sings. I open my eyes to an ethereal woman in a gossamer gown. It’s wrapped on her perfect form. She is the Goddess. I can tell that some of the fighters in the field are transporting away, because waves of air are moving and spaces are shifting in my peripheral vision. I know Evan is gone, the area he was in is empty. The demons must have taken him away. Those that remain are on bent knee, including Sabine.
“I’m ready to take my place,” I say.
The Goddess assesses me with her eyes. I’m sure I look awful with my dried tears on my face, the mud and dirt of this horrible day, but I am more than my appearance. I am my mother, Mrs. Scott and my father. There is no turning back.
I am wrapped in a light that is not my own. It turns and twists me in shades of white, pink, yellow and blue. I gasp as I bend backward and forward. My hair flies out wide from my head in all directions. My arms lift from my sides, and I’m covered in the sleek Guardian armor, then morph back into my clothes, and then into a purple cloak, and finally back into my clothes once again. I’m being weighed and measured for service by the Goddess. In various forms and dressings, I feel the teasing sensations in my body. This is a judgment of the unwanted magick; it is wanted, accepted and owned. Dark — light — it’s all one. It’s me.
A female voice in my head speaks with authority. “You are the most powerful among them. The prophesied, spirit element. Inexperienced in the realm of magick though you may be, they fear and respect you. Unite with all. The Convergence is coming; this knowledge is key.”
Her face appears in the mist and fog around me. She’s beautiful. Her hair waves like the ocean, her face is of a Venetian sculpture like an angel, and her voice echoes so that all can hear.
“Willow Sola Warrington serves as Queen to the Edayri realm of magick royalty.”
All below me answer in unison: “Blessed Be.”
I speak to the Goddess in my mind, “I… Thank you.”
She responds to me alone. “Welcome to your life. The walls will tumble down. Nothing ever lasts forever. Be of care, Willow.”
I float down and land on the grass in bare feet. My clothing has changed to a gossamer gown with a purple cloak that is light and flowing, and dances behind and around me with the wind. My hair is waved. I’m presented similar to the Goddess and I feel honored. I look all around me at everyone — Wiccan, demon, Valkyrie, shape shifter — on bended knee, heads bowed.
What do I say?
After a minute, Rhydian peeks up at me and winks. The importance of this moment is historical and epic. I can’t help it, but in the gravity of the moment I do exactly what I shouldn’t: I giggle. A weight is lifted. Will I, or won’t I? It’s all answered. It’s done.
Those nearest me look up at me, and I feel my cheeks heat. Eoin, the leader of the Guardians, shakes his head with a smile. I smirk at Rhydian. Time to honor my vow.
“You,” I point to a demon, who looks like someone in charge, a leader. He’s taller than most, broad and muscled, dressed in armor that resembles a medieval knight’s, although it strains over his body and only covers his legs, arms and back. His large horns sweep back and away with his long dark hair. He’s adorned with several markings on his chest, and has several necklaces that hang down upon it.
He comes forward, head held high and chest thrust forward. I can feel emotions — a new magick I can invoke at my will. I can feel and sense his anxiousness. It licks off of him in waves that are almost delicious. I try to change my thoughts. The dark side is inviting and intrusive, so with a quick shake of my head I steel my resolve.
“Do you challenge me, without knowing me?” I ask.
He thinks on this, then replies, “Do you judge me and my kind without knowing us?”
The epiphany of a verdict. The circle of waged hatred without knowledge or understanding. It’s on the cusp of a tipping point.
“No, I don’t. I’m an outsider to Edayri, and the prejudices of the past are lost on me, as it should be lost going forward — don’t you agree?”
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br /> The demon, with his proud stature, smiles. Although the smile looks evil, it’s genuine, and his emotions are clearly of acceptance.
“I do, Your Majesty.”
He bows his head, and the other demons follow his lead.
“The vendetta of vengeance and change is over. Take your wounded home, and you and I shall meet again.”
Rhydian tries to interrupt me, his brows creased. The demon in front of me pays him no attention, and only focuses on me.
“You’re not afraid of—”
“Should I be?” I ask, flexing my hand and showing my magick. A guiding voice in my head says mark him.
He continues to smile, his fangs more evident as they peek through. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Your name?”
“Ax. Formally, Thaxam.”
“May I, Ax?”
He nods, and I touch his hand. My mark appears, a royal brand in a scrolling design that burns his skin. He makes no noise of discomfort and doesn’t let on if there’s any pain, although I know it’s painful because deep down I want to be satisfied by it and I am. The mark will allow me to call him to me, and to know where he is at all times. It’s not a two-way street, but this doesn’t seem to bother him.
Rhydian’s jaw is tight and his lips thin. He stares ahead over the other demons.
The demons follow Thaxam into the forest in silence and transport away. The Guardians are tending to the wounded and leaving as well. I scan for Emily and see her smiling talking to warriors and Cross. I turn and see Tullen and Quinn smiling and talking.
This battle is over.
“Willow?” Sabine says my name tentatively.
I turn to her. She is grasping at her hands, her knuckles white. There’s sweat on her brow. I should want to comfort her, go to her. She’s my grandmother, and I can feel her love and worry for me. My disdain and hurt for what she’s done wins out and I stay where I am.
