Prophecy of Three

by Ashley McLeo

  “Of course I’m right,” Nora snapped though she kept her head lowered. “Felt her soaring through my head, didn’t I? No regard for niceties or safety either. Think of what I could have lost.”

  “You know full well Evelyn couldn’t have controlled it, Nora. Not her first time. None of us could,” Aoife said, cutting Nora’s tirade short.

  Evelyn had flown through Nora’s mind? Already? Lily shot a covert look at Sara, disheveled and panting on the damp ground. Pity rose in her. Somehow Sara looked even worse than five minutes ago, as if broken by her efforts to intrude on Aoife’s undoubtedly secure mind. Evelyn was glowing by comparison.

  “How’d you do it?” Aoife asked, spinning back to face Evelyn.

  “I just did. It was easy enough,” Evelyn said, putting a hand on her hip and tossing back her mane of gold confidently.

  “Well, that much is obvious. You’re not on the floor, nor have you lost any of your faculties or sanity.”

  Alarm flickered over Evelyn’s face, and her stance softened. “I’m not sure how. I threw my mind out like Morgane said and then I was flying.” She glanced down at Nora, who with Morgane’s help, had managed to sit up.

  “It was too fast, though. I couldn’t tell one memory from the next. It was like seeing a movie through static on fast forward,” Evelyn said.

  “This isn’t the first time you’ve mind read, is it?” Aoife asked, her eyes probing Evelyn with more intensity.

  Evelyn’s brows furrowed.

  “The other times would not have looked as this did. You’d never have been able to do this even weeks ago. Not against a ceremens of Nora’s repute. It would have been small intrusions. Knowing how to get to people, manipulate them and realizing what they wanted from you.” She paused before adding slyly, “And if I had to guess, I’d say it worked best on those of the male persuasion.”

  Evelyn inhaled. “It’s not the first time,” she admitted.

  “Are you thinking a siren, Aoife? One with a greater proclivity for mind magic?” Morgane asked the question as one would ask someone if they preferred cream in their coffee.

  “There’s only one way to be sure,” Aoife said. “We need a man to test her on.”

  Laughter bubbled around the garden, and Lily realized that she hadn’t seen a single man in months. The thought of a man at Fern Cottage seemed absurd.

  “Are we sure they won’t turn into frogs when they walk through the gate?” Lily asked joining the laughter.

  Aoife grinned mischievously. “Perhaps you three would like to earn a few bonus points?”

  Evelyn’s specialties as a potent ceremens and siren were confirmed that night. Under Aoife's watchful eye, Evelyn had been unleashed at the local village pub. The men at Drunken Duck Tavern hadn't known what hit them.

  In the weeks that followed the tension between Lily and Evelyn soared. While Lily was tempted to blame it all on Evelyn, she knew she was partially to blame. The more she thought about it, the less she was sure she could trust the mercurial blonde, especially now that Lily knew Evelyn was powerful in an sect of magic Lily was susceptible to. Her first impression of her sister—the arrogance, entitlement, and vanity she’d displayed at Shannon Airport—clung to Lily’s memory. It made for one hell of a scary mind reader. Nora had been making herself scarce since their afternoon in the garden, a fact Lily added to her arsenal of reasons not to open herself up too much. She’d begun dedicating her mornings to strengthening her mental barriers. Progress was slow, but Gwenn assured her they were getting stronger.

  Lily had long since gotten used to their routine, so much so she’d completely forgotten it was Em’s birthday until the notification popped up on her phone. Luckily, it was still early morning in Oregon. Not wanting to be hindered by the cottage’s spotty cell service, Lily grabbed Brigit’s cordless landline and retreated to her room.

  “Happy birthday, Em! What do you have planned?”

  “Well thank you, darlin’. So good to hear your voice again. We miss you here, you know. These old bones are laying low this year. Rena’s planning a small party on her porch. They meant to surprise me, but you know how things are.”

  Lily stifled a laugh. Selma, no doubt, had been the one to slip.

  “I wish I could be there.” Their recent studies had taken on a fervor that had Lily dreaming of lazy days at Terramar. She had a suspicion that the upcoming Halloween holiday, or Samhain as the McKay clan women called it, was to blame.

  “I wish you were too, love. But what’s happenin’ there? What have they taught you? I wish I could see you three cast. I’m sure it’s a real treat.”

  “Yeah, it’s great,” Lily said, immediately regretting her tone.

  “Doesn’t sound great. What’s eatin’ you?”

  “Besides the fact that Sara’s kicking my ass at pretty much everything?” Lily released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I know I’m improving. Brigit says we’ve had about three years of magical education in three months. I realize it’s dramatic but I can’t help feel that my greatest talent is almost useless. What good is healing going to be in battle? I doubt I’ll have time to whip up potions or cast healing spells during a fight.”

  “Hmm,” Emily hummed knowingly.

  Silence rang across an ocean and a continent before Lily felt obliged to confess further.

  “And I’m uncomfortable with the fact that Evelyn is a mind-reading prodigy. The exact type of magic I’m most deficient at,” she trailed off, feeling ashamed. They were in this together. Every strength the triplets cultivated made it more likely they would succeed. Still, Lily found herself wishing Evelyn had never discovered her ceremens capabilities.

  “That’s what I was waitin’ for,” Em said. “Have you spoken with her about it?”

  “No. I’m not going to. I’m dealing with it. Or trying to.”

  “And wearing yourself out in the process.”

  Damn Em and her empathic talents, Lily thought, though she knew it was true. Even with their increased number of lessons, she shouldn’t be this exhausted.

  “Maybe I’ll mention it.”

  “You will or you won’t, but it will sure make your time there and your relationship with your sister easier,” Em said.

  “So how are things going there? I hear you’re all free-practicing witches now that I’m finally in on the dirty secret?” Lily asked, careful to keep the accusation she’d heaped onto Rena from her tone.

  “Darlin’, we’ve been free practicin’ all along! Just less so with you around. When you went to college, we blew the lid off the place. Didn’t you ever wonder about that mess of iron surroundin’ us? The remoteness? The secrecy?”

  No, she thought, still a touch bitter. She’d never wondered anything about her life. It had all seemed so normal, despite the obvious fact that it was not.

  “The iron gates and posts are to keep out any fae that may be working against us? Probably enchanted to keep out other creatures too. The secrecy is obvious now.” Lily sighed. “You all gave up so much because of me.”

  “We’d do it again, too,” Em said, her voice radiating love. “Though I’ll admit most of us can’t hold a candle to your Irish clan. The McKay women are legendary, Lil. Brigit and Aoife are particularly well known, though Mary and Gwenn are nothin’ to sniff at when it comes to water and earth magics. Only Rena, Annika, and Selma even come close in our little group. The rest of us have fun dabbling, though.”

  Lily envied her lighthearted tone. What would it be like to have power but not be fated to try and save humanity with it? Add that to the list of things I’ll never know.

  “Thanks, Em. Hey! We’re starting astral projection and spirit magic tomorrow. Maybe I’ll make it over to see you!” Lily said, her spirits lifting at the far-fetched idea.

  “Lord have mercy. They are workin’ you girls. Be careful with projection, Lil. More than one witch has gotten lost outside her body. It’s a terrible fate.”

  “Thanks for the advice, Em, I’
ll be sure to pass it on to Sara,” Lily said.

  “You never know, love. You’ve only touched the tip of what magic has to offer, and are growin’ stronger each day.”

  Lily’s shoulders softened. “I know. Thanks for listening. I called to wish you a happy birthday, and all we talked about was me. Unfortunately, I’ve got to run, but I wanted you to know I’m thinking about you. I was looking forward to your birthday this year.”

  “I know, darlin’, but what you’re doing is much more important than this old lady’s birthday. Keep up the good work and know we’re all behind you. Love you, Lil.”

  “Love you, too, Em.”

  A Change of Heart

  “That’s it. One petal at a time. Caaaareful now,” Brigit whispered, her eyes locked on the iron cauldron Lily hunched over.

  “Wanna switch?” Lily wheezed, resisting the overwhelming urge to toss the flowers in all at once and be done with it.

  A smirk skipped across Brigit’s face, though her concentration remained, as always, maddeningly focused on the task at hand.

  “Then how would you ever learn to prepare a proper Samhain flying brew? I wouldn’t steal that pleasure from you, Lil. This is your time,” she said, patting her daughter’s shoulder.

  Lily didn’t doubt the potion would be awesome. She’d been enamored with the idea of flying through the woods surrounding the cabin ever since Brigit mentioned the potion weeks ago. But three hours in and two aching arms later, she found herself wishing it was Sara or Evelyn who had volunteered to make the potion. At least I don’t have to sit here while it simmers for hours, she thought. She gazed through the hearth into the living room where her aunts and sisters sat drinking mulled wine and preparing decorations.

  For days the group had been hard at work transforming Fern Cottage for Samhain. The pathway to the door had been lined with ancient torches that looked impressively spooky once lit. Enchanted cotton cobwebs and plastic bats were already swaying playfully from every tree in the orchard. Bedsheet ghosts, brought to life by Gwenn, were haunting DIY tombstones honoring Morgan Le Fay, Merlin, Mother Shipton, and other legendary witches and wizards in the garden.

  “You can never count on the real things to show up when you want them. They’re flighty buggers,” Gwenn had lamented when Lily asked if real ghosts ever attended the party.

  The playful ambiance of the grounds morphed inside the confines of Fern Cottage. Within those stone walls the witches blended the history of their people with lore in a way that gave Lily shivers it was so beautiful. Crystal balls, glowing from Sara’s candeo charm, cast warm light into dark corners as they circulated the room on currents of air Mary had charmed into existence. Ornamental skulls, ravens, and goddess idols covered every possible surface not set aside for the display of magical books and grimoires. Samhain, Brigit explained, was the only day of the year coven members were urged to dust off their familial books of knowledge and bring them out into the open for all to see. Most families respected the tradition for the night, despite the strong pull to keep their grimoires—books that in another era equated a death sentence—hidden. The cross of Brighid was brought into greater prominence on Samhain by the hanging of tea lights around it. Each crimson rush of the cross glowed against the hearth stones with a pride befitting the goddess it honored. More candles climbed up the doorways and perched on windowsills.

  “The candles are said to help spirits find their way over the threshold into our world on Samhain night,” Gwenn explained when Sara questioned the safety of so many candles in such a small space.

  The pomp and preparation brought back memories of Terramar’s solstice gathering, leaving Lily with an uncanny feeling that her life was destined to change as much on Samhain as it had on solstice.

  Best of all, Samhain meant a break. A whole day with no lessons. A day to play and learn from whomever they wanted.

  “Are you going to fly?” Lily asked Evelyn as they gathered for breakfast the morning of Samhain. It was always easier to talk to her sister in the morning. Sleep helped them forget the tension that plagued their relationship by midday. Whether they’d be on speaking terms by dinner was anyone’s guess.

  “I suppose so,” Evelyn answered, picking at her eggs and bacon, “but I’m more interested in astral travel. If it’s ever going to work, tonight would be the night, right?”

  Sara nodded, her mouth full of oats and eyes wide with excitement.

  They’d had six lessons on astral travel, but none of them had yet to travel. Lily had little doubt it would be Sara who succeeded on Samhain, when the veil between the worlds was at its thinnest.

  “Maybe I will, too,” Lily mused. It hadn’t been at the top of her list, but Evelyn was right. It’d be a shame not to try. “I wonder if it’d be easier after taking the flying potion? Maybe it would help my spirit fly, too?”

  “Well, there’s an idea. Mary tried it once. Didn’t do a damn thing for her,” Brigit said, sweeping into the room and beelining it toward the coffee.

  Lily’s cheeks flushed as a small smirk appeared on Evelyn’s face. She wished she hadn’t said the last bit out loud. It sounded too desperate.

  Brigit turned to face them, a mug of coffee filled to the brim clutched between her hands. “But then, you’re not Mary, are you? I say you try it. No one knows what could happen on Samhain.”

  Evelyn’s smirk flattened.

  “Now then,” Brigit said, easing herself into a chair, “which of you wants to lead a circle tomorrow? It’s a big responsibility, but I think any of you would be up for it.”

  Three pairs of eyes popped open.

  “You won’t be on your own, of course. Aoife or I will be there, assisting. The combined power of so many people’s magic you aren’t familiar with would be too much otherwise. Even those who have been practicing witches all their lives often desire assistance when leading Samhain night.”

  “What’s the circle for?” Evelyn asked, leaning forward in her chair.

  “Seeing as it’s Samhain, we’ll be having a few circles. Most are small and for fun. You can do anything you like, but the one I’m thinking you’d enjoy best is the invitation to our ancestors for a visit.”

  Lily coughed and a small bit of toast landed on her plate.

  “You mean ghosts? We’re bringing the dead to life?” Sara asked, her eyes in danger of bulging out of their sockets.

  “That’s the idea.” Brigit took a slow sip of coffee, her cinnamon-lavender scent mixing with the early morning brew. “It hasn’t happened once in the last hundred years. All the old grimoires say that when it works the ghosts only stay for a mo’ or so, just long enough for a chat or to answer a question. Even if it doesn’t work, people get a thrill out of watching. It’s a wee bit of fun and a good chance to let our power flow. It’s not often we get to turn it up full blast.”

  Lily shrugged. Sounds cool, but pretty unlikely, she thought.

  “Oh,” Sara said, unable to hide her disappointment. “Well, then, what will we be doing that might actually work?”

  “We call down the moon every year. That never fails to impress.”

  “Like it actually comes down?” Evelyn asked skeptically.

  “It’s more like we feel it more, and sometimes it appears closer. Rest assured, it’s beyond anyone’s power to pull the moon from orbit, though many have tried.”

  “What else?” Sara asked, searching for a circle that would reap real benefits.

  “Bonfire magic is a huge draw. You’ll want to be a part of that, Sara. All the fire witches go mad for it. Air circles are fun too, could be a good way to test your skills, though our coven is light on air witches. Then there’s the reflections. It’s not magic, per se, but brings a community together in a way that magic lacks.”

  “Reflections?” Lily asked.

  “Aye. You tell the circle how your life has changed in the year since the last circle. We learn a bit about who you used to be, who you wish to be, and the community tries to help you with your aspirat
ions.”

  “That doesn’t seem too bad,” Lily lied. Her shoulders tensed as the memories of the shell of a person she was months ago flashed before her.

  “But we can choose, right?” Evelyn said, her voice cold.

  “As always, all you do on Samhain is your choice,” Brigit said.

  Evelyn exhaled and Lily recalled the stories Evelyn had told by the lakeside, about how she had used her beauty to wheedle information from powerful men.

  “Shouldn’t be too difficult. The change in our lives is pretty obvious. We have loads to talk about from these past three months,” Sara said.

  Lily’s shoulders softened. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Sara was right. There was no reason to tell anyone about her relationship with Liam. She hardly ever thought of him anymore and wanted to keep it that way. Lily had no desire to parade her mistake, her shame, in front of a bunch of strangers or her aunts. Despite having improved at keeping people out of her head, the anxiety of being labeled the fragile triplet still persisted. She didn’t want to give them another reason to think her weak.

  “It sounds nice,” Sara continued, twiddling her spoon. “Besides my parents, I’ve never been around anyone long enough to see how they change.”

  Lily looked down at her plate. It was one of Sara’s mindless remarks that guilted her. She recognized how easily Sara’s fate could have been her own. Despite feeling unloved, transient, and isolated, Sara had risen to accomplish amazing feats. Lily doubted she would have fared as well under those circumstances.

  A scrape of wood on wood filled the lull as Evelyn rose from the table, oblivious to the awkward moment.

  “When will people arrive?” Evelyn asked, dropping her plate in the sink without rinsing it.

  “Your aunts and Fiona will be by at five. The rest of the coven will come around seven.”

  “No Nora?” Lily asked, surprised. Sure, Nora had been scarce since their first ceremens lesson, but Lily thought they’d see her on Samhain.

  “She’s across the pond again working. Said she’d try to come back in time, but I doubt we’ll see her,” Brigit said, a crease forming between her eyebrows.