by Bailey Dark
The witch picked at her nails before saying, “you can lie little girl, but I’ll know. And you’ll get nowhere if we can’t be truthful with each other. You depend on me and I might just depend on you in return.”
With that, I answered her question. “I dream walked,” she nodded her head in what appeared to be approval. I forged on with my questions. “Why now?” I asked. “If you always had the ability to strip them of their powers, why did you wait for so long? You’ve been at odds with the council for centuries, so why…now?” I stress the question again, growing increasingly more curious as to why this was all just happening.
“I thought that would’ve been clearer,” she said flippantly. “We needed the power of Excalibur. Witches are no different than sorcerers, we just have different ways of harnessing our abilities. We draw powers from elements and Excalibur was forged of steel from deep within the earth. It came from a very specific part of the world. It was exactly what we needed so we could exact revenge.”
“Why didn’t you kill them while you had a chance? If revenge is what you sought, you stopped short,” I said. She smiled.
“Dear girl, there’s a great deal more to revenge than death. Being without powers is worse than. Especially for a sorcerer who has amassed power and wealth through their abilities.” She shrugged, “and also, we still need them.”
“For,” Lance questioned, finally joining the conversation.
“Clara, you must not tell,” the stout woman said to the redhead.
Clara raised her hand to silence the woman. “They need to know so they can help us,” she explained to her coven. It appeared to do the trick as the once alarmed witch sat back in her seat, looking mollified by the simplistic argument. “The council has taken some things from us, and Excalibur is only one piece of the pie.”
“Now that you have Excalibur have you been able to lower the wards to find what you were looking for?” Lance asked. Clara shook her head no.
“The wards are too strong.”
“What is it you’re still looking for?” I ask, ready to get to the meat of what’s going on.
Lance would have us talking in circles all night.
“Many years ago, the council stole our Book of Shadows. It’s the final piece needed to locate what we truly need. It’s why Holly was sent to Avalon. She was tasked with locating our book and retrieving it for us. She failed and I’m not surprised.”
I leveled the woman with an icy glare. Holly and I may not have officially been friends, but we had been through a lot together and I didn’t like how she was treating her daughter. It was too close to home. “She didn’t fail you. I know where your book is, and I know how to retrieve it. We would’ve done so if the council hadn’t come for us before we were able to grab it.”
The woman’s brow arched in surprise. “Is that so?” she said smiling widely at Holly.
Holly looked at me but didn’t give anything away. She was almost asking me for permission to continue with my half-truth. I nodded, giving her permission to continue with whatever story she wished.
“She just told you she knows where it is. Why are you asking me?” she shot back.
“Very well. It looks like you need to be finding your way back to Avalon then,” Clara commanded.
“We can’t go back there,” Mallory said alarmed.
“Yes, you can. We’ll help. The council is out looking for you. They don’t think you’ll be dumb enough to go back to Avalon, and with our cloaking spell, you’ll be able to sneak in and out before you’re ever uncovered.”
“Do you truly think so?” I asked skeptically. I was all for an alliance, and if that meant retrieving the book from the Sacred Library, so be it, but not without assurance we’d be safe.
“Dear girl, I’m not the coven leader for no good reason. I’m extremely skilled. I’ll get you in and out undetected and you’ll bring me the book.”
I pursed my lips mulling over her request. I knew what was in it for her, but what about us?
“And then?” I questioned.
A Cheshire cat smile broke out across her red painted lips, “we’ll bring down the council together.”
I smiled for the first time, standing and walking toward her, hand extended. “Gwen D’Morte,” I said, introducing myself officially.
“Claribel Bishop-Hunter,” she said taking my hand in hers. “Nice grip,” she remarked with a smirk. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”
I might grow to like this woman after all.
Chapter Seven
For the next several hours, we broke out into small groups to discuss strategy. Lance and Mallory met with the dark-haired, pudgy woman—whose name was Portia Howe—to discuss the specifics of the cloaking spell. Holly and I joined Clara and an older, white-haired woman, named Tamara Croft.
I recounted the details of my time in the Sacred Library, with the women. I didn’t leave any part out, except what I took from it.
“I hate hounds. Vicious creatures, Tamara seethed. “They’re nothing like cats. Cats are temperamental but loyal. Mangy dogs will turn on you whenever it’s convenient for them.”
Holly’s nose scrunched. “Tell us how you really feel.”
“Holly, be respectful to your elders,” Clara said shooting her a reproachful glance. “Besides, it’s of no consequence,” Clara remarked, moving her red hair behind her shoulders. “Our cloaking spell will elude the hounds. They’re dumb creatures.”
“They may be dumb, but they hear a pin drop,” Holly said wearily.
“Simple, we’ll add a spell to muffle your sound if that’s the only thing that will alert them to your presence.”
“Smell?” I added.
“The cloaking spell takes care of anything on your person,” she eyed me closely.
“Including body odor.”
Holly snorted at her insinuation.
“I don’t have body odor,” I whined, lowering my nose to my armpit to ensure.
Holly was practically rolling on the floor having caught me sniffing myself. “Can we get on with it?” I chastised, feeling embarrassed.
“Please,” Clara said, scolding her daughter with a look of annoyance. “The alarms could pose a problem. They are part of the school’s charms, and without knowing the source of them there’s no way to bypass it. You’ll have to get in and out quickly,” she said blowing out a breath. “As long as they don’t anticipate this move, they won’t be armed with anyone to uncloak you.”
“And if they are prepared?” I question with a raised brow.
“Run like hell, girl.”
“Noted,” Holly chimed.
We had a plan, but the more I went over the details in my mind, the clearer that this was disproportionately skewed to the witches. We were putting our lives on the line and for what? To retrieve something they need. What was in it for us?
“What’s your end game?” I finally asked. Clara’s lips pressed together in a firm line but it was Tamara who took the bait.
“End game?”
“Yes, why should we get you your Book of Shadows?”
“We need it to perform a powerful binding spell. It’ll get us closer to everything we need.”
“What is the final object you seek if the book isn’t the last part?”
“What makes you think it’s an object?” Clara asked pointedly.
I suppose it could be a person, but I was sick of guessing. “Tell me,” I command.
“Person? Object? Place?” I continue to guess.
“It’s a goblet,” Clara says exasperated. “An old relic passed down through the centuries. One that doesn’t belong to our coven. It needs to be returned to strike a truce with the Souveign Coven. Without it, we will not defeat the council and bring them to heel,” she sighed heavily sounding tired. “The Souveign coven is the last piece of the spell we need to permanently end the council’s reign. In a peaceful way.”
“Why do you need me to get it? If you’re so powerful, you walk into that school an
d get it yourself.”
“I could, but then what use would you be to me? Why should my coven protect you if you’ve given nothing?”
“So this is a bargaining chip?”
“You can look at it that way. You help me, I’ll help you. In the end, we all get what we want. Peace.”
“Why would you want to team up with them? They betrayed all witches,” Holly asked. Clara tsked, which was obviously a habit of hers. “Sarah from Souveign was angry with me when she betrayed us. We had taken a chalice that belonged to them for ourselves. The chalice has magical powers and with the right concoction can cure any being. At that time our coven leader was dying, and we needed it. Instead of going to her and asking for help, I took it.”
“She was angry with you and that’s why she made the pact with the council?”
Clara nodded. “She hoped that she could convince all of them to turn against us and help her get the chalice back. She thought we were hiding it from her.”
“After you used it why didn’t you just return it? Was your greed so great that a war was worth keeping it?”
“It was taken from us. Remember, that’s the final piece of all this.” Her head lowered.
“We didn’t even use it. Our coven leader died.”
“That’s…terrible,” I said, seeing the pain of that truth on Clara’s face. She cared deeply
for her leader and whoever took it—most likely the council—had caused that pain.
“We’ve been trying to locate the chalice for years. Souveign coven doesn’t believe us and they won’t until I produce the goblet.”
“I’m afraid it may take more than that at this point,” Tamara said solemnly.
“It will have to be enough. We’ll track down the chalice and offer it as a sign of peace.
The years of tyranny brought down on all witches by the council will have to be enough for them to join our cause.”
My reasoning for being in the Sacred Library hits me with the force of a train. I never said why I had been there. Could I have something more to offer?
“What if I had something else of theirs that you could offer them as well?” Clara narrowed her eyes. “What could you possibly have of interest to them?”
“Well, I’m no longer in possession of it, but I know that the council has their book of shadows.”
“Go on,” she coaxes.
“What if we performed our own locator spell while their defenses are down and grab the book? Surely they’d like that back?”
“It could work,” she smiled. “You’ve proven to be very useful. I should hope once we retain the power from the council, you could lead your kind,” she tapped her finger to her chin in contemplation. “Maybe for perhaps the first time in our history, we could live in peace alongside each other.”
“Perhaps. There’s always hope,” I said, smiling back.
Chapter Eight
After an intense afternoon of breakout meetings with the coven, they treated us to a massive feast, unlike anything I’d seen before. It may as well have been Thanksgiving, given the juicy turkey and honey baked ham that was at the center of the massive dinner table.
All the fixings were accounted for, including some of my personal favorites, mashed potatoes, and gravy, twice baked potatoes, sweet potato casserole, you name it, they had it. We stuffed our faces until we were all uncomfortable. It had been a while since we’d indulged.
I was stuffed and exhausted, so Lance and I decided to retire early. Tomorrow we were all going to come together to finalize the plans and the day after we would head to Avalon. We needed our rest in order to be prepared for whatever we’d face. The coven felt confident in their abilities, but I was skeptical. The council was resourceful and who knew who they’d recruited by now.
I found myself tucked into Lance’s side, comfortable and content for the first time in a long time. It was so easy to fall back into old routines with him. He was my safety through the storm, my anchor in the turbulent waters. Someone I never wanted to let go.
I looked up into his beautiful face and questioned why I couldn’t have the same electrifying responses to him as I did with Tristan. Why couldn’t he set my every nerve ending on edge? Why did I have to be unequivocally in love with the bad guy? Because that was the truth of the matter, no matter how many times Tristan betrayed me, I loved him still. It was heartbreaking to be so attached to someone I couldn’t have.
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” Lance asked seeing my strained expression. I crawled back into him wanting desperately to drop the subject but knowing I wasn’t getting out of it at this point.
“I was just wondering what happened to us,” I answered honestly.
I felt his sigh as his chest rose and fell. “The same thing that’s always happened to us, Gwennie.” I looked directly into his eyes and he smiled sadly. “Tristan Locke.”
“It wasn’t all Tristan,” I said defending someone who didn’t deserve it.
“Then what?” he pushed.
I didn’t want to fight with him. The truth was, I was over the whole him and Holly thing. I knew he had only done it to garner information. He would’ve never let it happen if he hadn’t already suspected that I was pulling away and moving toward Tristan.
In a sense, it was his defense mechanism. He never told me how he felt for fear of rejection. I knew that now, and it made me sad for him.
“I know you’ll never feel for me the way you feel for him,” Lance’s voice was filled with emotion. He paused to take a breath. I smiled up at him, hoping to give him the courage to continue. He had something to say and I was going to hear him out. “After everything that’s happened, do you think you and I could ever get back to where we were before he came?”
The truth was I didn’t know. Having felt what I did with Tristan, would it be possible for me to settle? I cringed at that. The thought of considering being with Lance as settling made me sick. Anyone would be lucky to have him. He was gorgeous, loyal, kind; his list of attributes was never-ending. But the passion I felt with Tristan was lacking with him.
I wondered if we could ever get there. Or was Tristan always going to be the stain on any future relationship for me? With Lance, I knew I would be happy but was that enough? I deserved to be happy, but I also deserved…more. I couldn’t lie to him and I couldn’t lead him on.
“I don’t know, Lance. What Tristan and I had was special, until it wasn’t.” I felt his chest deflate and wanted so bad to erase any pain I had caused. “You deserve to feel what I had felt with him. You deserve a girl who is crazy about you,” I stressed, hoping he was understanding what I was trying to say. “Someone that couldn’t breathe without you next to them.”
“And you don’t think that will ever be you,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t know and that’s the truth. I never want to be dishonest with you.”
We sat in the dark, quiet for several moments. The sun had set about thirty minutes ago and neither of us made a move to turn on a light. It was easier to be honest in the dark. I didn’t have to see pain or heartbreak.
“I would be willing to try,” Lance said in barely a whisper. “Even if it didn’t end up in my favor at the end. I want to try, Gwen,” he took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you and I want to believe that someday you would feel the same way about me.”
“I love you too, Lance. Just not in the way you need,” I said sadly.
I would give anything for that to not be true. My life would be so much easier if it were Lance who set my blood on fire, but he’s not. That honor goes to a coward and as much as I want to revoke it, love doesn’t work like that. But I was happy once before with Lance. Maybe with time I could put Tristan behind me and move on with him? I’ve been honest and yet he still wants to try. Why shouldn’t I try?
Despite my better judgment, I rolled onto my hands and knees and crawled my way up to Lance so that we were face-to-face. I couldn’t see him clearly in the darkened room, but his silhoue
tte was just as impressive. I ran my hand down his chiseled cheek, and he leaned into it.
“I won’t lie to you,” I said steeling my resolve. “I don’t know if this will work, but if you’re willing to try…so am I.”
I didn’t have time to think, his hands came around me, crushing me to his chest. His lips captured mine in a kiss that nearly stole my senses. Give the boy a goal and he’ll do his damnedest to meet it. Every swipe of his tongue made it evident he was in this race for my heart one hundred percent. He might be the only competitor, but he wasn’t slacking. I relished in every one of his caresses. My body was eager to see what more he could do. It had been some time and catch up was sounding more fun by the moment.
The room grew hotter as our bodies melded together. I tried to somehow get closer to him, desperate for all of him. The more places he touched, the hotter the inferno grew. I was about to rip off my clothes and beg him to take me when that inner bitch spoke up with one name.
Tristan.
That simple word brought back all the memories that we shared. The kisses. The touches. Losing my virginity and our most recent dream sex. I pulled away, gasping for air and needing space.
“Slower,” I panted.
I wanted to move on with him. God knew I did, but I needed to go slow. Memories of Tristan and all that we had shared weren’t going to disappear overnight and if I had any hope of things working between Lance and me, I needed to give myself time. More importantly, I needed to make sure I wasn’t forcing myself into something with Lance just to forget. Lance deserved more and I was determined to be fair to him.
That gave me a thought. The first step to closure was to officially break up, which is something Tristan and I never did. I needed closure and more importantly, I had to ensure that Tristan knew he had no hold on me. Showing up in my dreams and trying to warn me about the council’s plans to find me were not okay. Whether it was to throw me off and make me think he cared all the while, he was still working with the council. I had to set things straight. He needed to know that I wanted nothing to do with him.
