“Excuse me.” Bernadine fumed, her gnarled fingers twisting into claws. “How dare you accuse me of—”
“Ada, Bernadine, please don’t fight.” Aubrey sounded tired. “I don’t want to leave the Haven knowing you two are soured toward each other.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Aubrey.” I murmured, instantly regretting lashing out. Bernadine made a harrumph noise, but didn’t say anything. Typical.
“That’s better. Now, please don’t discuss this any further. I’m going, and that’s final. Now, for the finishing touches.” Aunt Aubrey waved her hand over her face. When she took it away, her familiar, kindly face had disappeared. In its place a young, smooth-skinned beauty, a mane of wild red hair flowing down her back, similar in colour to Brunhild’s, but even more shiny and bright. The thin, wrinkled skin around her face and neck tightened and smoothed into a face so exquisite it appeared to be carved from stone. Her bow red lips parted seductively, and her round breasts heaved against her tight dress. I blinked, still struggling to believe that my elderly aunt could weave such complex magic, completely obliterating her own visage.
Aunt Aubrey fluffed up her new hair, and smoothed down the front of her dress. “How do I look?” she asked nervously.
“Like you just walked out of a whorehouse,” Bernadine snapped. Aubrey shot her a look.
“You look beautiful,” I told her, because it was true. Aubrey smiled, and I saw a flicker of my aunt behind the facade, something in the way her mouth turned up into a bright smile, or the icy blue eyes sparkling with intelligence. For the briefest moment I wondered if I wasn’t looking at a glamour at all, but a time capsule into the past, an image of my aunt as she had been at my age.
“Thank you Ada,” this strange woman with my aunt’s voice beamed at me. She wrapped me in her shapely, soft arms, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Be safe now, and do what Maerwynn and Bernadine tell you. They have a lot to teach you, if only you would listen.”
“I’ll do my best,” I whispered into her ear, knowing it was a lie. I certainly wasn’t going to do anything Bernadine said any more.
Aunt Aubrey let go of me, and without another word she pulled herself up onto the saddle of a beautiful white horse named Cloud. With a short wave and a nod to Maerwynn, who was at that moment walking purposefully towards us, Aubrey dug her heels into Cloud’s sides, and trotted away.
“I don’t like this,” Maerwynn said as she came to stand beside Bernadine, her eyes narrowing as she watched Aubrey gallop off down the path toward the village.
“That we can agree on,” said Bernadine.
“I wish Ulrich had informed me of this curse before I agreed to let you stay. It endangers my entire coven.”
“I’m sure it must’ve slipped his mind.”
“You said she did this before successfully, just a few days ago? Then you were lucky. This time she’s all alone. Who can say what she might meet on the road to the village? If anyone there recognizes her … I know it is unlikely, for we are far from your own village, and she weaves a convincing glamour. But still my heart is uneasy with this arrangement.”
“Aubrey can look after herself,” said Bernadine, although I thought I caught a flicker of fear dancing in her eyes.
“Of course, I’ve no doubt she can.” Maerwynn said, her voice dripping with all the doubt she could muster “But you know, Aubrey doesn’t have to do this. There might be another way.”
Bernadine looked first at Maerwynn, and then at me, her frown deepening. “Please. I know you’ve been dying to get your hands on Ada, but that’s a bit obscene. Besides, the curse requires a man, and although you desperately wish you were one—”
Maerwynn’s eyes flashed with anger. “That is not what I meant, and you know it. I speak of the curse. Have you tried to break it?”
“Of course we have. Before Ysmay died and this happened,” Aunt Bernadine held up her hands, the fingers bent into stiff claws by her arthritis. “Our coven tried every spell we could think of to rid us of the curse. But the curse is centuries old. It would take a powerful magic to break it. That’s more than we three alone can cast out, especially with Ada’s power being dormant.”
“It’s not dormant!” I protested. “Not anymore.”
Bernadine’s scowl turned to me. “Until you learn to harness and control it, it’s useless to us.”
“Would you like my coven to attempt to break it?” Maerwynn asked. “We have a large circle, with many powerful witches. If there is any hope of breaking it through the goddess’ power alone, then we will do it.”
Bernadine paused. “That could be something,” she said. “But I will not have you endanger any of your women on our behalf. My family has managed the curse for hundreds of years, we can endure it a little longer.”
Maerwynn rose. “Nonsense, it’s ridiculous a witch of your abilities should be saddled with this ridiculous curse, beholden to men in this vile way. It will be a full moon in two days’ time. This will be the perfect time to call upon the goddess and attempt to break the curse. I will inform my women and we can source the herbs we will need, and we will perform the rite as soon as Aubrey returns.”
Her statement hung in the air. If Aubrey returns, was what she really meant. I shivered, even though I was not cold.
Maerwynn didn’t wait for an answer. She whirled around on her heel and stalked off. Brunhild squeezed my knee again, this time the gesture was friendly. Bernadine stared off at some spot just over my shoulder, her brow furrowed, her teeth bared.
* * *
When I woke in the morning, Aubrey had not returned. My stomach churned with worry. “What could have happened to her?” I asked Bernadine. “Surely she would have finished by now?”
Bernadine held up a long, wizened finger, glaring at her digit as though it offered some answer. A flame appeared on the end of her finger, dancing from the tip of her nail as though it were a wick. “We still have our powers, so Aubrey was successful. I am sure she will be along shortly.”
She swayed on her feet, leaning heavily against her stick. I reached out to guide her arm. “Do you want me to help you down to breakfast—”
“I can do it myself,” Bernadine snapped, yanking her arm away from me. I flinched at the harsh words.
“Fine. I was just trying to help you. But I should have known it was pointless. You would rather die a miserable old woman than accept even an ounce of help from anyone. You didn’t even want Maerwynn to help us break the curse. We could be free of this requirement if you would only relent just a little!” I whirled around and stomped down the path toward the river.
“Ada, wait!” Bernadine’s voice sounded hoarse, worried. Did I detect the faintest flicker of emotion? I didn’t care. I kept walking.
Brunhild waited for me beside the unlit fire pit. She handed me a bowl of cold soup and a slice of bread. “I just heard that we’re going to get rid of your curse. Isn’t that exciting?”
“I’m not really sure,” I settled down beside her, dipping my bread into the thin soup and stuffing it into my mouth. It was so soft and lovely. One thing I could say for Maerwynn, she made certain her coven ate well.
“How can you not be sure?” Brunhild’s eyes widened as she bit into her own bread. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love sex, but being forced to have it every seven days is just ghastly. What if you were ill, or you had the bleeding, or the only men around you were all beastly?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what’s involved in breaking a curse,” I said. “It must be very difficult, because if it weren’t, my family would have banished it years ago. With this ridiculous witch hunt going on, I don’t want anyone put in danger because of me.”
“You’re too sweet, Ada.” Brunhild slurped up the last of her soup. “If it were me I would be hunting down the descendants of the guy who placed the curse and giving them a piece of my mind.”
The descendants … For some reason, it had never occurred to me that the ancient witch who’d placed the curse on my ancest
or Cedany had a family. But of course he did, and they would have inherited his dark magic and his lust for power. Were his descendants out there right now, oblivious to the chaos their ancestor had caused? Were they in hiding from Ulrich’s father, too? I glanced around the campfires with a new sense of apprehension. What if one of the ladies here was a descendant of the man who cursed my family?
“Did I say something bad, Ada?” Brunhild tapped my shoulder. “You look awfully serious.”
“Oh … no, don’t worry.” I shook my head. I needed to keep that thought to myself for a while. “I was just missing Ulrich, is all.”
After breakfast, I helped Brunhild to collect wild blackberries, the perfect activity to distract me from thoughts of Ulrich. The thorny bushes had completely overtaken one of the slopes of the valley, and they were a vital ingredient in many of the Haven’s dishes. Brunhild helped me wrap gauze strips around my hands to protect my skin from the thorns. When I was bandaged up, she showed me how to spot the choicest berries. “You look for the berries that appear plump and comely, much like your lovely figure.”
I could feel the heat in my cheeks. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Oh, Ada! For all your dungeon adventures, you are such a prude.” Brunhild turned back to the bush, and demonstrated how she twisted the ripe berries so they fell off in her hand. “Only the ripe berries will come off this easily. Some girls get mixed up because the berries turn black first, then take a few days to ripen. But if you pick them too early, they taste sour.” She wrinkled her pretty nose, perhaps remembering a particularly sour berry.
“Easy,” I said, twisting off two berries and dropping them into our basket. We picked our way along the patch of berries, gossiping about the other girls in the coven as the thorns pricked our skin. By midday we had filled two baskets, and our bond of friendship was sealed. Brunhild showed me how to prune the bushes using the sharp knife she’d brought along. “This helps improve the yield,” she said, as she pulled off a trailing tendril. “And if I plant this further along the ridge, another plant will grow. Then next season we will have even more blackberries to pick.”
I nodded, wondering if I would still be here next season to pick blackberries with Brunhild. The thought wasn’t wholly unappealing, although only if Ulrich were able to join us.
We gathered up the baskets and walked back along the edge of the stream. My good spirits died as soon as we stepped back into the camp. Bernadine sat in the same place I’d left her, hunched beside the entrance to Aubrey’s cabin, her long pipe stuck between her pursed lips and that all-too-familiar scowl plastered across her face.
“Aunt, what’s wrong?” My stomach sank. I pushed my basket into Brunhild’s hand and went to help her.
“She’s not here,” Bernadine murmured, as she sucked on her pipe. Her gnarled fingers clutched at her ancient stick.
“Who? Aubrey?” That was impossible. She should have returned hours ago.
“Of course Aubrey!” Bernadine yelled, spitting out her pipe in disgust. “I’m not sitting around here waiting for anyone else.”
“All right, you don’t have to snap at me.”
“This is all your fault.” Bernadine sighed. “If you’d gone to the village in her place—”
“—then I might be the one missing right now,” I shot back. “And you’d be sitting here feeling just as guilty about it. Or maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d be glad I was gone.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Don’t tell me what to be!” I screamed at her. I could feel a hot rage rising through my body. All the pent-up frustration at my aunts that had been building over these last weeks came bubbling to the surface. “You and Aubrey think you have to control everything I do. You act as if I don’t have my own mind, my own ideas, as if I’m still some child you need to coddle.”
“Of course I do,” she snapped back. “You are barely twenty-one years of age, and you seem incapable of doing anything without attracting the most dire of consequences. We send you to the village to sleep with a man, and you end up accused of witchcraft. I had to leave my home, my life, and flee hundreds of miles to this cursed place, all because of your recklessness, your naivety, your reckless pursuit of a man who abandons you here at the first opportunity. And you can’t even use magic to protect yourself. So forgive me if I don’t implicitly trust your judgement.”
“Ulrich didn’t abandon me! He’s doing all of this so we can be together.”
“See?” Bernadine’s eyes flashed. “You only care about yourself, about your precious man. Never mind that we’ve lost our home or that Aubrey is out there, probably raped and beaten to death by some randy highwayman, only weeks after she lost her own lover, a man who had cared for her for years. But as long as precious Ulrich comes back to you, then what do you care for any of us?”
Her words felt like a physical slap across my face. My cheeks stung. My eyes filled with tears, and I furiously blinked them away. I do not have to listen to this. I turned on my heel and stomped away down the path.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bernadine called after me.
“To find Maerwynn.” I snapped back. “We have to go after Aubrey.” See? I wanted to shout at her, but didn’t. I don’t just think about myself. I’m trying to organize a rescue attempt, while you are just pouting and smoking.
Behind me, Bernadine snorted. I heard footsteps on the steps. “Ada, wait for me.” It was Brunhild.
“Why?” I snapped, instantly feeling guilty. Brunhild wasn’t the one I was angry at.
“Because Maerwynn is in Gussalen’s cabin,” Brunhild replied. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“Oh.” I followed Brunhild up and adjoining staircase, sensing Bernadine’s eyes boring into my back.
We found Maerwynn and Gussalen crouched together on Gussalen’s bed, their heads bent in murmured conversation. “I’m busy, girls.” she said grimly when we approached, waving us away with a flick of her wrist. “I’ll come and find you later.”
“Aunt Aubrey hasn’t returned,” I blurted out, and as the words fell from my mouth, the fear I’d been holding back seized me. She hadn’t gone that far from the Haven, the nearest village wasn’t even a day’s ride away. So where was she? What could keep her from returning, except something truly awful—
I tried to say something else, but all the came out was a strangled sob. Brunhild cupped my face to her shoulder, her soft hands patting my back. I sobbed into her shoulder, my fear finally overcoming me. “Ada and Bernadine feel she should have been back yesterday,” Brunhild explained to Maerwynn, who was no doubt staring at my display with the same look of scorn Aunt Bernadine often visited upon me.
“I wish you had told me sooner.” Maerwynn said sternly. “I could have notified our scouts to be on the lookout for her. Do you still have your powers?”
“Bernadine says so,” I sniffed.
“If you have your powers, that means she has been successful. Perhaps she is simply spending more time with her lover?”
“Aubrey wouldn’t do that. She’d know that we’d worry. What can we do? Should I go look for her?”
“I’m not sending anyone into the village yet, least of all you. Need I remind you there is a price on your head? There could be many factors accounting for her delay, none of which are sinister. I suggest you and your aunt take turns waiting up for Aubrey. If she’s not back by the morning, then we will look for her.”
“But—”
“None of that,” Maerwynn said sternly. “I have spoken. You must have patience. Your aunt is a grown woman, and a powerful witch. She knows how to look after herself.”
I could not imagine my kindly Aunt Aubrey faring very well against an unsavoury attacker, but I didn’t dare argue with Maerwynn.
I was perfectly happy to leave Bernadine to her angry vigil, but I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. Besides, despite her acidic demeanour, I did still love her. I didn’t like being angry with her. She was my mother’
s sister, and I felt certain my mother expected me to be kind to her. Feeling sheepish, and childish for my outburst, I slunk back up the path toward her.
“Maerwynn says we must wait through the night for her,” I said. “She will send a party out in the morning if Aubrey has still not returned.”
“Harrumph.” Bernadine turned her head away, and sucked at her pipe. She didn’t say another word. I couldn’t tell if she was still angry with me.
“Right,” I backed away. “Well, I’ll leave you here, then. I will return after dinner, and relieve you of your watch so that you can sleep.”
Bernadine didn’t reply, nor acknowledge me in any way.
* * *
Dinner came and went, and still there was no Aubrey. I took a bowl of delicious rabbit and blackberry sauce up to Bernadine, and pressed it into her gnarled fingers. “You go down to the fires and eat and stay warm, and then get some sleep.” I told her, keeping my voice even and kind, the way Aubrey often did when she was talking to Bernadine. “I will stay up and wait for Aubrey.”
But of course Bernadine refused to go to sleep. “I’ve not slept a full night through in thirty-five years,” she croaked. “And I don’t intend to start on the night my sister is missing.”
“Fine,” I slumped down beside her chair, drawing up the corners of my cloak around my body to keep off the chill. “Then we shall wait together.”
A wind blew bitter cold through the valley. I watched the fires roar below us, as the other women of the coven danced and conversed. Bernadine and I sat in silence at our vigil, women apart. We didn’t really belong here. Even though I loved the community Maerwynn had created here, and especially Brunhild and Ryia, I knew that we weren’t really part of the coven. Was this what Bernadine was feeling, was this otherness upsetting her? I wanted to ask her, but our harsh words from earlier hung between us, keeping us in stony silence.
The moon rose through the trees, reflecting dappled light from the surface of the river. In pairs and threes, the women abandoned the fires and returned up the paths to their beds. Brunhild waved and smiled as she went by, and I nodded in response. Soon, the night belonged only to Bernadine and I.
Coven: a dark medieval paranormal romance (Witches of the Woods Book 2) Page 8
