The Outcast

by Patti Larsen

  He bobbed his head in gratitude, turning and walking down the hall. I trailed after him, Mom beside me, reaching out to Sassafras.

  You didn’t need to be mean to him, I sent. They’re just kids, Sass.

  They have to grow up fast, he shot back. The majority of the Enforcer order had been decommissioned and would stand their own trials. They had been obeying orders, but the new council wanted to ensure no one duplicitous went unpunished. I figured at the worst they would be banned from rejoining the Enforcers and relegated back to their families. Who, likely, needed them far more than the order did. Femke had been nice enough to lend out some of hers, as had the other councils, so we weren’t unprotected, at least. And there were enough excited young witches who wanted to join, to give back after the conflict, I figured they’d be restocked in a few short years.

  Still, I sent as the door unsealed, magic rippling down its sides and the young Enforcer opened it so we could walk through, they’ve been through as much as we have. Cut them some slack, okay?

  He grumbled, but I wasn’t listening to him. I was too focused on the woman sitting in the chair in the center of the small room. Mom kept a firm hold on Sassafras as she brushed past me and I waved off the Enforcer who closed the door behind us. The tingle of magic resealing the exit I ignored.

  Not like Erica was going anywhere. Not from the all gone look on her face, the loss of her dignity as clear as the departure of the power she held for the last seven years. She looked up, slightly dazed, into Mom’s eyes.

  “Miriam?” Her voice faltered, one hand going to her blonde bob, a question and distance on her face before she looked away, frowning, as if trying to remember something from the way she tapped one finger on her lips. “Now, where did I put it?”

  We both knew what she was looking for. The Council’s power. I remembered the ache of missing my magic, and I knew Mom had to be reliving being stripped of the coven’s power so long ago. My mother turned her back, hands tight on the silver Persian who began to purr. I met her blue eyes just before she began to silently weep and held her gaze until she was able to pull herself together, my power holding her firmly but gently while Sassafras soothed away her hurt.

  She handed Sass over to me before wiping impatiently at her face, finally turning to sit next to her old friend. Erica’s weak, wobbly smile increased as she touched Mom’s cheek.

  “You look lovely today, Mir,” Erica said. “Always so lovely.”

  I couldn’t help but remember another day like this one, when a friend of mine told me the brother she couldn’t remember liked me before brightly and emptily going to the stake to be burned. I still missed Mia and regretted her passing. Wished I could somehow go back in time and make things all right again. But she was gone and, soon, so would Erica.

  There had to be a way to shield Mom from this. But no. Like me, this was her guilt to bear, though it wasn’t her wrongdoing, not really. She’d wanted her freedom from the council, to be with Dad. That didn’t make it her fault the council insisted on another Hayle witch while Mom and I both knew Erica wasn’t strong enough.

  No one’s fault. But from the tight smile on Mom’s face, the way she handled her friend so delicately, she blamed herself. Of course she did.

  She was a Hayle witch, after all.

  Erica’s face twisted, her jaw jumping as she turned away from Mom. “Not fair,” she muttered, still lost to whatever dream world she’d retreated. “So perfect, so Miriam Hayle. Everyone loves you.” She pouted. “And I’m always second best.”

  I bit my bottom lip to keep from speaking. This wasn’t my conversation to have.

  Mom turned her around, forced Erica to face her. “Is that why, Erica? Why you betrayed us to the Brotherhood?” Anger found its way into Mom’s tone, into her words and her magic. Erica cried out, tried to wriggle free, but Mom wasn’t letting her go just yet. “Answer the question!”

  Erica sagged, sobbed once and seemed to come back to herself for a moment. “He said,” she whispered. “He was so sincere. Said I could be greater, bigger, more than you ever were. That I had a destiny.” Erica looked up, blinking, broken. “They compared us all the time,” her words dragged out. “All. The. Time. You and Syd and you and Syd. Always telling me I wasn’t you and Syd.” She shook her head, wiped her nose on the back of one shaking hand. “He wanted me to show my potential.” Erica sat up straighter. “It made sense, Mir. His plan.” She sagged again. “At first. But then it started going wrong and witches died.” She choked on the words, sinking against Mom, mouth gaping open, a thin line of drool falling to the floor beneath them as grief so powerful I had to shield against it washed over me. “They died, Mir. Because of me.”

  Mom held her, a mix of disgust and old love on her face. “Oh, Erica,” she whispered.

  Her former second pulled herself up, clawing her way up Mom’s arm until they were face to face. “I thought this was right,” she said. “I only ever wanted to be worthy.”

  Mom held her as Erica cried.

  ***

  Chapter Forty One

  Sassafras perched on my lap, looking down over the heads of the gathered witches as the new Council came into session. It was weird how packed the place was considering how many witches we’d lost. But it appeared no one wanted to miss putting Erica and her council out of their misery and I guess I didn’t blame them for that.

  The new Council members filed in, Femke sitting off to one side with a handful of representatives of the other councils watching silently. I had no idea what deals they’d made or how the new Council had been chosen after those initial first steps, but if Femke was watching over them I knew I had nothing to worry about.

  I settled back into the wooden bench seat and scanned faces around me. So odd how many I knew, at least in passing, including a pair of men I hadn’t seen in quite some time. Jean Marc and Kristophe Dumont were on their own, though, their father and coven leader, Andre, conspicuously absent. I wondered how hard their family had been hit, though not out of compassion. If Belaisle had wiped them out, I would have gleefully cheered him on.

  No you wouldn’t, Sassafras sent. But I would have.

  I turned away from their pinched expressions, normal arrogance gone. They survived, like cockroaches usually did. I was sure I’d hear from them sooner or later.

  Odd, I only now noticed the center seat of the Council was empty. Where was their Leader? A sickening feeling rose in my chest and I clutched at Mom’s hand even as the Councilor on the end rose.

  Marigold Santos, Mom sent, sadness leaking through her magic. I heard she was supposed to take over as coven leader, but she volunteered to sit on the Council instead. A huge sacrifice, considering. If I was her, I’d want to be home with my people, rebuilding. Respect for her tough decision rose as the young, slim and dark haired woman addressed everyone, the sound of her voice commanding silence.

  “We are the new North American Witches Council,” Marigold said, voice shaking slightly, young face tight but calm. “But we are incomplete. Hard days have come to our people, and more will pass before the scars and burns of this terrible time have fully healed. If ever.” She paused as I prodded Femke.

  This better not be what I think it is. She shot me a glare I threw right back at her. She didn’t respond, turning away, leaving me to break out into a cold sweat. If they asked me, I would implode. Or run.

  Ah, hell.

  “We require powerful leadership, tried and true, trusted by all.” The young woman gestured toward me and panic bloomed. No. Freaking. Way. “Miriam Hayle,” she said as my heart contracted and I opened my mouth to tell her where to go. “We need you now, more than we ever have. Will you take your place at our helm and lead us where we need to go?”

  Mom sat frozen next to me while I tried to restart my brain. I turned to her, eyes wide, as Mom sighed softly.

  You knew, I sent.

  I suspected. She turned her head a fraction, a tiny, sad smile on her lips. And I understand their need. She stoo
d as I gaped up at her and nodded.

  “I accept,” she said. “And can only hope to serve you well and truly from this day forward.”

  And then she was moving, and I had to bend my knees sideways to let her out of the row because I wasn’t sure I could stand, that those same knees would hold me up. Mom calmly and quietly stepped down to the main floor before alighting the steps to the council dais, nodding as she went to each of the Councilors before bowing to Femke and the representatives.

  “I am honored you have asked me to take on this role,” she said, a blue glow surrounding her, whirling with light, forming a draped, black velvet robe settling on her shoulders like an old friend. “The trust you’ve shown in requesting my return will not be betrayed. I am and always will be at your service.”

  Femke nodded to Mom as the power she and the other Councils gave up swirled in a tiny tornado around my mother. It used to be vast, and would be again with Mom’s careful management, I had no doubt. The funnel of magic slipped inside her and my mother sank, slowly and gracefully, into the Council Leader’s seat.

  Oh, dear, Sassafras sent in a hurt little voice. Syd, I wish we could help her. This is going to be terrible. Beyond terrible.

  What are you talking about? I shivered when he turned his head to look up at me, amber eyes meeting mine.

  “The first order of business,” Mom said, answering me when he did not, “is the sentencing of Erica Plower. Bring her forward.”

  And then I understood. Erica's trial happened yesterday, the verdict predictable. And now, thanks to their selfishness and need to have Mom at their helm, these witches had knowingly put my mother in a position where she would be forced to sentence her former best friend to burn at the stake.

  Rage rippled through me, hit Femke like a blow. She turned to stare at me, blue eyes huge and fear on her face.

  What? She pushed back, but more out of reflex from what I could tell.

  Did you know they were going to do this to her? My voice screamed in her head.

  Femke fell back, face falling. Oh, Syd, she sent. I’m sorry. This didn’t even cross my mind. I approved their choice, but I didn’t think…

  No, I snapped at her. You sure as hell didn’t. And cut her off when she tried to reach me.

  The bitches. All of them. Cowards not worthy of my mother. I would never, ever, forgive them for this.

  Erica was led forward, left to stand, listless and wavering, in the middle of the room. Mom’s face didn’t twitch, her stern, formal expression level, voice calm as she spoke.

  “Erica Diane Plower,” she said, “formerly of the Hayle coven and leader of the North American Witches Council, you have been found guilty of all charges, including conspiring with the enemy, betrayal of your race, and murder. Are you prepared for your sentence?”

  Erica bowed her head. But didn’t get to answer. The doors to the council chamber rumbled and green fire forced them open. I spun, staring, as Gwynn ap Nudd, still dressed in his gold and silver armor, strode into the room, Galleytrot at his heels.

  What is he up to? Sassafras perched on one paw resting on my hand so he could see over everyone’s startled heads.

  No idea, I sent as the Sidhe lord came to a halt. Erica turned to stare at the big, black hound who had once been Jared Runnel, the man she loved. Her face twisted in old grief and she covered her face in her hands while Gwynn spoke.

  “You know who I am.” The air rumbled with the scent of ozone, a faint clap of thunder shaking the room.

  “I do,” Mom said, still composed. “Gwynn ap Nudd, leader of the Wild Hunt.”

  Lots of gasping at that. I would have grinned, if I wasn’t still so pissed off.

  “You freed me,” he said. “And, because of this, I owe you a boon.” His hand fell on Galleytrot’s shoulder. “This one has asked I consider a new hound to take his place. And I understand you have a likely candidate.”

  No one said a word, though even Mom’s carefully groomed eyebrows shot up.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “The Wild Hunt is no more.”

  “The Wild Hunt will always be,” Gwynn said, voice soft but deep, full of ancient sadness. “I may no more long for the destruction of everything to avenge the death of my true love, but I have worn the mantle of this position for far too long for the Wild to be disbanded. One day, my people and I will rise and scour the planes as we were created to do. Until that time, I am in need of a new hound.” He turned and looked Erica up and down. “Only the most heinous of criminals, their hearts blackened by what they have done, will do to fill the role.”

  Mom stuttered before composing herself. “T-this witch is responsible for the deaths of thousands,” she said.

  “All the better.” He gestured at Erica. “She will suffer endless torment in more lifetimes than you can imagine, forced to wear the skin of a hound and serve me until the end of time.”

  Galleytrot was condemning her to this? I didn’t believe it. But his gentle mind reached mine.

  What he says is true, he sent, a rumble of an old storm dying in the distance. But what he doesn’t say is that becoming a hound means a rewrite of your soul, Syd. She will eventually, like me, discover the good in herself again and be renewed and reborn.

  He shook his huge mane and bowed to Mom.

  “Council Leader Hayle,” Galleytrot said. “Even if you still deem this fate kinder than the one you had planned, haven’t there been enough witches burned?”

  That hit home. Everyone groaned softly, as though his words seared them like flame.

  Mom finally nodded. “You will never grant her freedom?”

  “She belongs to me until the end of time,” Gwynn said.

  My mother’s face twitched, though I wasn’t sure if it was in grief or gratitude. “Then take her,” she said. “And begin her eternal suffering.”

  Erica wept, but she turned to Gwynn without protest. He reached out to touch her, one shining gauntlet glowing with green fire. Her eyes flashed blue one last time before they spun into darkness, her shape morphing as she trembled. I’d seen enough werewolf shiftings I knew what to expect, but this was far more gruesome. Instead of her body changing, she shed it to the sound of wet tearing, her howl of agony erupting as her skin split down her back. The black hound burst from inside Erica’s flesh in a violent outward motion, flinging parts of her to the shields Mom quickly threw up to protect the gallery. The sounds of retching made me sick, but I was too focused on what was going on to let a little gore distract me.

  Said a lot for who I’d grown into, didn’t it?

  Erica shook her new form, black eyes flaring with red fire before she settled on her haunches next to her master. Black fur so dark it absorbed the light shivered as she turned her massive head, looking up to meet my eyes, nodding ever so slightly before facing Mom.

  “I will take my leave,” Gwynn said, snapping his fingers at Erica. “Come along, hound.”

  No one said a word as the huge, black dog brushed past Galleytrot, nor did anyone comment when he head-butted her gently on the way by. Silence held until the doors closed behind the Sidhe lord and it was Mom who broke it.

  “Gwynn is correct,” she said, voice shaking ever so slightly, a tremor I’m sure only I heard because I knew her so well. “There have been enough burnings. All other witches convicted of their crimes attached to this matter will be imprisoned for life and their power stripped.”

  No one protested. I think we were all sick of death by now. And, as everyone began to file out, the trials and sentencings over, a pair of poor unfortunate young witches wincing as they began to clean up what remained of Erica’s human form, I reached out to my mother gently.

  Miriam Hayle, I sent. Council Leader.

  Sydlynn Hayle, she sent. Oh dear. And sighed. What am I going to tell your father?

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  ***

  Chapter Forty Two

  Just when I thought I’d gotten my happily ever after. Yeah, wishful thinking,
Hayle.

  Mom’s second act of power was to declare an official week of mourning while her new Enforcer order scoured the continent for the lost and the dead. Every day reports came in on partial covens who made it into hiding, more stories of horror and death to share. I spent as much time with Mom those first few days as I could, offering a shoulder to lean on, an ear as she struggled to keep everyone from losing it while the final numbers came in.

  Of course, her third order of business was to declare any Brotherhood member who was seen in her territory would be summarily killed without trial and without question. I wondered at her choice, worried as I was last time other sorcerers might get caught up in the dragnet of anger, but a warning through Piers and Gram would hopefully keep any strays safe from harm as long as they kept their heads down.

  Nice of her to accept my request for the Hayle coven to return to the fold. The small portion of Council power that came along with our reinstatement made me sad how far we’d fallen, but there was a new determination in the witches I met and spoke to, a shift in attitude away from blame and despair to a willingness to act. I hated it had taken this kind of a tragedy to create change, but at least something good seemed to have come from all the devastation.

  Silver linings helped me find the bright side.

  The new World Paranormal Council was going strong, despite my worries the Witch Councils might back off now that things weren’t falling apart anymore. But, to my surprise and relief, that wasn’t the case. Femke’s position had been made permanent by unanimous decision, joined by Sunny and Danilo as well as a few prominent witches on other Councils. She was permitted to keep her place as European leader, fortunately, though I didn’t envy her the workload.

  We hadn’t spoken since I lost my mind at her during Erica’s sentencing. Neither of us had reached out and, I knew she was furious about being forced into the position of World Leader. I figured we’d both go through a cooling off period then hash it out. She was too good a friend to let this stand between us.