The Affairs of Witches

by Paula Lester

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t hurt anyone. But I do want my magic back. Can’t you intervene for me with Lila and Albert? Or have you lost so much power that you’re unable to stand up to other witches?”

  “Will,” Crosby said from next to me. His tone held a warning note.

  Kressida’s eyes snapped over to him. “And this is how law enforcement works in this town? Skulking around listening in on the conversations of private citizens without warrants or any other reason?”

  “I’m well within my rights as law enforcement, ma’am,” Crosby said, his tone even and calm. “This is a public space you’re in—an open one. I haven’t planted any listening devices. I’m just using my own ears while you talk in a gazebo.”

  His words made me feel less like a kid who had misbehaved, and I lifted my shoulders and my chin.

  Kressida’s eyes returned to my face. “I will not intercede for your power. In fact, it’s my recommendation that it is kept from you permanently. You can’t be allowed to do what your parents did.”

  “My parents? What do you mean? What did they do?”

  Kressida’s eyes went from narrow to wide in a split second. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “No. I don’t. But I wish to high heavens someone would tell me.” I felt infuriated that so many people knew so much about my past when I knew virtually nothing.

  Kressida shook her head. “All that matters is that you not be allowed to follow in their footsteps. Stay away from us.” Her eyes flicked back to Crosby. “Both of you.” She turned toward the others. Pence held out a hand, and she laced her fingers with his. They all marched away across the grass together.

  Celeste gave me an apologetic glance, and I waved a little at her. It did sting that she hadn’t stood up for me to Kressida, but I understood maybe she couldn’t. Not openly, anyway, in front of the others.

  Or perhaps she didn’t really intend to help me like she had promised to.

  And why had Kressida made such a hundred and eighty-degree turn? When the Crone was alive, the Crux had seemed to be on my side—advocating for a more tempered approach when the Crone suggested my power be taken away immediately. What caused Kressida to change her mind so thoroughly?

  “Do you want to go get something to eat?”

  I turned to face Crosby and shook my head. “I’m going home,” I announced. “To talk to my aunt.”

  Chapter 16

  I HAD ONLY MOVED FIVE steps away from my car in the driveway before animals surrounded me. In fact, I had to stop in my tracks or risk stepping on a little paw or tail. There were a couple of dogs, several cats, a chicken, and even a sheep. “How’d you get out of the paddock?” I asked the fuzzy black sheep, who was the twins’ father.

  He didn’t answer. Well, he may have—he made a few sheep snuffles, but I couldn’t understand him. All I heard was . . . well, sheep snuffles.

  Juliet gave a short bark, followed by a series of rumbles. Whatever she said, it must have been funny or something because the other animals all made little chuffing noises in response.

  Tears sprang to my eyes. It was one thing to be unable to understand the animals in my clinic, but hearing only dog noises when Juliet tried to talk to me was heart-wrenching. I forced the feelings down and cleared my throat. “I can’t understand any of you anymore. My ability is gone.”

  Wide eyes and silent stares from the animals met my announcement, but I heard a sharp intake of breath from the porch. My eyes lifted to meet Aunt Dru’s stricken gaze.

  Juliet pawed at my foot, drawing my attention back to the border collie. She barked again and then pawed in the dirt just in front of my foot.

  The chicken flapped her wings and strutted over, nudging Juliet aside. Then, delicately, she lifted one foot and then dropped it back to the dirt, scratching away at it as she clucked.

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I can’t understand chickens anymore either.”

  But she ignored me, scratching away as her rusty-colored feathers flopped and flapped.

  Aunt Dru descended the steps to stand next to me. She put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “We’ll fix this,” she said, her tone firm and fervent. “I promise you.”

  I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

  The chicken was still scratching and flapping, and then the sheep shoved her aside with his nose. The scratches the hen had left in the dirt didn’t look random, like she’d been trying to get a morsel. “Are those . . . letters?”

  Aunt Dru kneeled to get a better view of the dirt. “Hmm. It looks like she’s trying to do something specific here. But I can’t tell what.”

  I could see that some marks were straight where others curved, albeit shakily.

  “They could be letters, I suppose. They don’t spell anything, though.”

  The chicken squawked loudly, ruffled her wings, and strutted away. She looked for all the world like a person who felt highly insulted by something someone had said to her.

  “No offense!” Aunt Dru called after the hen. She gave me a helpless look as she straightened. “I don’t think she knows how to spell.”

  “I think you’re right.” I turned toward my aunt. “Lila, Albert, and some other visiting witches came to the clinic today. They had a Vampire Guard, Gordon, with them, and he took my magic into an amulet.”

  I watched her fists clench, release, and re-clench. “Lila doesn’t have the authority to do that,” she ground out between her teeth.

  “Yeah. I figured that. But there was nothing I could do. I tried to fight, but that vampire dude was like a metal statue.”

  She nodded, and we both headed for the porch. “Of course, there was nothing you could do against the Vampire Guard, honey. You don’t have any defensive magic training. But we’ll get your power back, and then I’ll teach you. I’m sorry I didn’t push harder for you to learn earlier.”

  “That’s not your fault,” I insisted, “but I need to have a talk with you about something important.”

  She glanced over her shoulder as she pushed the front door open and started inside. “About what?”

  I followed her into the house and shut the door behind me before answering. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful.”

  My earnest tone got her attention. She stopped walking but didn’t turn to look at me.

  I continued, gently. “I know you’re hiding something from me. People keep mentioning my parents and what they did. In fact, Lila said they were taking my power so I couldn’t do what my parents had done.”

  She spun around and spat out, “They should hope for you to do what your parents did.”

  I blinked a few times. “So, you do know what they’re talking about.”

  Aunt Dru’s throat worked as though she were swallowing hard, and her eyelids fluttered. Finally, she exhaled and let her shoulders slump. “I do. And it’s time for me to tell you. It’s past time, I suppose. I was only trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “Let’s have tea.” She spun around and marched into the kitchen, Dixon right on her heels, making mewing noises.

  I could imagine his words: “Could I please have an evening snack?” But I couldn’t hear the words. My body felt heavy as I trudged after my aunt. Instead of helping with the tea like I normally would, I lowered myself heavily into a kitchen chair, suddenly so exhausted it seemed like it would take legislation to get me to move or do anything further.

  Aunt Dru used magic to make the tea fast and set a mug, along with a plate of lemon cookies, in front of me a few minutes later. She sat across from me. She opened her mouth, and a knock came out.

  We stared at each other for a beat before I realized someone was pounding on the front door.

  Really? Right now?

  I considered ignoring the visitor. It was probably Crosby, and I could text him later. I had Aunt Dru right on the verge of telling me what I wanted to know, so I would no longer be in the dark about whatever it was so many other p
eople seemed to know about me. I was so close. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.

  But the knock came again, more insistent. I growled and hauled myself out of the seat, irritation overriding my exhaustion. I stomped through the living room and opened the door, fully prepared to tell whoever it was they needed to come back later.

  It was Celeste. Over her shoulder, I could see Griffin leaning on the porch railing, arms crossed and a disapproving expression trained on me. My eyes cut back to the Key.

  “Hi. Can I come in?”

  I glanced at the Guard again, but he made no move to show he planned to enter the house with Celeste. I nodded and stepped aside for her to enter, then closed it on Griffin’s hard look. “We were just sitting down to have some tea and cookies. Hoping to ruin our dinner. Would you like to join us?”

  “You and your aunt?” At my nod, she said, “Yes. She’s the one I came to talk to.” She skirted around me and strode confidently into the kitchen.

  “Wait. What?” I followed, feeling lame next to how she’d carried herself.

  Celeste stopped next to my aunt. “It’s time,” she said firmly. “You need to tell Willow the truth about her parents. She’s going to need to know to navigate the next days. The next twenty-four hours, really. So, no more excuses. No more fear. Just tell her.”

  Dru looked amused. “Okay. You convinced me.” She nodded toward another chair at the table. “You may as well stay and listen too.”

  That made me frown, and I almost objected. Why should Celeste stay and hear whatever it was my aunt had kept from me for two decades? How did she rate getting to hear the story of my life immediately, just because she demanded it?

  But Aunt Dru smiled kindly at me and gestured to the chair I’d vacated a few minutes before. “Sit down, honey. Everything will make more sense in a minute.”

  Reluctantly, I followed her directions and sat. I sipped tea, but it had grown tepid, and I preferred mine piping hot. I pushed the mug away and grabbed a lemon cookie instead, stuffing it into my face and feeling grumpy about the way things were going.

  “The names of the women who may ascend to the Trio and occupy the Messenger position are highly protected,” Aunt Dru began. “Only a handful of people have access to that list. No one else ever knows who’s on it, though there’s always lots of speculation. Jostling for position, just like in human politics, though no one knows for sure whether that does any good. It’s just as likely that the list is written in stone than that it’s mutable and changeable.” She shrugged. “It’s one of those things in life that can’t be known with certainty unless you’re one of the few with access to the list.”

  I chewed on that mentally while I munched on the cookie. What my aunt was saying was there were a few people out in the world who knew who should ascend to the Trio now that the Crone was gone.

  My aunt continued, reaching over the table to grab my hand. “Your mother was a powerful witch. The most powerful in decades, in fact.”

  I focused on breathing deeply because the room suddenly seemed low on oxygen. My mind produced an image of an old, framed photo of my parents I kept in my room. I’d made up so many stories about them throughout my life. Reasons for them to disappear when I was three and never come back. As I got older, I stopped creating the stories. In fact, I put the photo in my closet and only took it out to look at sometimes late at night when I couldn’t sleep. In my heart, I knew they’d simply left, not wanting to bear the responsibility of a child. Of me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Your mother was the last Messenger,” Aunt Dru blurted.

  My eyes popped open. “What?”

  “She was the Messenger when a very evil darkness threatened the Trio. Sabotage. Betrayal. That’s all she would tell me. I was beside myself with worry as your parents had long, quiet conversations behind closed doors while I played with you. I tried to keep you occupied and happy, but I knew something was about to happen. Something dreadful.” She stopped and licked her lips, looking down at the mug in front of her. “Your mother insisted she needed to act to save the Trio. Your father went with her. He wasn’t especially powerful, but he couldn’t be dissuaded from being at her side as she headed into danger.” Aunt Dru sniffed and wiped her eyes.

  “What happened?” I leaned forward in my chair. Only then did I realize I was gripping her hand way too tightly. I forced myself to draw a breath and ease up.

  She swallowed hard again. “I only knew at the time that they left. Went somewhere to defend the Trio. And I never saw them again. The Trio remained intact. But something happened. The group meant to guard the secret list explained your parents’ disappearance.” Aunt Dru’s mouth twisted. “They said your parents were the threat against the Trio. That they’d gone dark and tried to kill the Crone and Key as they walked together one day. That the Trio had killed them in self-defense.”

  A sob erupted from my throat before I could stop it, and tears spilled down my cheeks. “How is that possible?”

  “It isn’t.” Aunt Dru’s tone was as hard as the expression in her eyes. “There’s no way it’s true. And that was confirmed to me by a member of the secret group himself, just before he and his wife died under mysterious circumstances. Just before all the watchers died.”

  I couldn’t speak to form a question. Luckily, she didn’t need me to. She continued, “He told me my sister and brother-in-law stopped the threat against the Trio but lost their lives in the process. He said your mother had to draw on too much power to eliminate the dark wizard and killed herself and your dad along with him.” She paused as though considering whether to continue. When she did, her voice was strained. “But I never believed that either.”

  “You don’t?” I took a napkin from Celeste and wiped my face. “Why?”

  “Because a new Messenger never ascended.”

  My eyes snapped up. “Never? For twenty-five years?”

  She nodded. “But now I’m realizing I may have been wrong. Because the Crone is most definitely dead, and there’s been no ascension in the Trio.” Her lower jaw wobbled. “I don’t know what’s going on. But we’re in danger of losing everything right now.”

  Silence fell over the room. Celeste looked intensely thoughtful, but she didn’t speak.

  “I think I need to find that book again,” I decided. “The one at the Witch Supply Shop. Maybe there’s something in there that can explain all of this.” Then something my aunt had said came back to me. “Who was it, Aunt Dru? The man who told you my mother didn’t turn bad?”

  Sadness gathered around her eyes. “It was Crosby’s father. The next day, he and Crosby’s mother died in a terrible car crash.”

  My chest squeezed as though I were lying in bed and Juliet had crawled on top of me. “No,” I whispered.

  “There’s one more thing for me to tell you,” Aunt Dru said. Her eyes moved to Celeste, who’d been quiet the whole time.

  Now, the Key nodded once, as though affirming that Aunt Dru should continue.

  “The other reason I don’t think your parents died when Crosby’s father said they did is because I believe Celeste is your sister.” She looked me in the eye. “And I think you’re supposed to be the next Crux.”

  Chapter 17

  AT THE EDGES OF MY vision, the room seemed to spin unnaturally. Dixon must have sensed my discomfort because he jumped onto my lap and shoved me hard in the ribs with his head. I focused on his sweet face, and the vertigo receded. “I’m okay,” I told the cat.

  I could only hear him purr in response.

  Silence filled the kitchen for several moments as I worked to get myself back under control. Finally, I smiled. “I’m glad you told me all of this.”

  Aunt Dru winced. “It’s something I should’ve sat you down to discuss a long time ago. I realize that now—I waited too long, and now everything is a big mess. It’s just that I wanted you to have as normal a life as possible. I didn’t want to ruin it with all this madness. I couldn’t stand the thought of br
eaking your heart like that.”

  “I understand.” I didn’t completely understand, but the way Aunt Dru was looking at me made me not want to add more pain to her plate. Deep inside, I knew that anything she’d done had been meant to help me—because she thought it was best for me. The woman had taken in a three-year-old and raised her like her own, and she hadn’t had to do that. So who was I to judge how she had handled this delicate issue?

  I tucked away all my new feelings, promising myself I would examine them later, when I had time and was alone. At the moment, there was one particular part of what Aunt Dru had said that I needed to focus on. I cleared my throat and forged ahead. “What you said about Celeste and I being sisters. What did you mean? Why do you think that?”

  Celeste said nothing, but she stilled, as though Aunt Dru’s next words were critical. I realized she must be feeling a lot of the same emotions I was at the moment.

  Aunt Dru took a breath and waited a couple beats before answering. “I have some friends in Chicago who are involved in handling the cases of orphaned witches. They have to be identified, you know, so we always know where they are. Anyway, when they saw Celeste, they contacted me right away. They sent a picture. Celeste looked just like you did as a baby, Willow—just like your mother did.” She paused and swallowed twice, as though a lump had leaped into her throat. “I wanted to take her myself, but that was blocked. Someone presented my intentions to the Trio, along with a claim that, since I wasn’t properly educating the witch child I already had, I shouldn’t be allowed to take on another.” She gave Celeste a pained look. “I’m so sorry, honey. I wanted you here. With us.”

  It was Celeste’s turn to swallow surging emotion. She gave my aunt a kind smile that made me feel a rush of warmth for her. “I had a good childhood. And if you’re right about who my parents were, then I have nothing but respect for them.” She turned her smile toward me. “If my family can grow now, I’m open to that.”