On her way to her room, she pondered what her father had said. “A development.” That sounded ominous. Well, at least it would take her mind from her problems with Ben. She wanted something to keep her from dwelling on him, so this was probably as good as anything else. She would still have to figure out what to do about that situation, but for now the new distraction was welcome.
An hour later, Abigail entered the meeting chamber. It was a large room, capable of holding dozens of people comfortably, many at the massive oval of a table in the center of the room. Antique wood flooring, carved recessed book shelves, ancient artwork placed meticulously, and very old and fine rugs dotting the floor made the chamber radiate solemnity and grandeur. It was one of the oldest parts of the constantly-growing structure. Though Aqua Terra had always been her home, this one room had made the entire estate the crown jewel of the water witch coven. Every important matter decided by the Guiding Council had been discussed and resolved in this room ever since water witches had settled in the area.
She was the first one there, so she busied herself by browsing the books on the shelves. She had read some, but she noted others she’d always meant to read. Every last one of them were either manuals on water magic or histories of her coven and elemental magic users in general. There was even a collection of books on specific histories of the other elemental magic users, those who used earth, air, and fire. It was sparse, though.
Abbie heard voices in the hall outside and turned to see a group of the council members entering.
Ava Martin entered the room first, just a half a step in front of Sophia Hill. The latter must have arrived since Abigail talked to her father. The first woman was short, apple-cheeked, and almost boyish looking in the drab, simple dress that draped over her thick body. She had never cared for fashion and always wore the simplest of clothing. Her hair was short, a simple bob cut. Ava looked easygoing and friendly, but once those hazel eyes locked onto you, she did not seem that way at all.
Sophia, on the other hand, was taller, a good three or four inches above Abigail’s five foot, five inch frame, and slender. The blue eyes that were so common among water witches peered out from her brown hair, which fell in soft waves to the middle of her back. She always seemed to have a light in her eyes that said Sophia was about to tell you a joke or do some sort of mischief. She rarely did, but the threat was ever there. Abbie liked Sophia, seeing her as a playful aunt. Still, she too could be stern and serious when dealing with Council business.
Julian Hill, Sophia’s husband, was a tall, slender man. He looked as if he could have been Sophia’s brother, with his hair and eye color matching that of his wife’s and his angular face displaying hints of Sophia’s, though hers was much softer and more feminine. He lacked the mischievous look, too.
Julian was talking with Abigail’s father, the latter towering over the other man’s six foot tall frame. Landon Henderson flicked his eyes up from Julian to meet Abbie’s, and he smiled and nodded his head to his daughter, then continued with his conversation.
Finally, Charlotte Whinson, the leader of the Guiding Council, the High Water Caster, stepped through the doorway, looking as if she was pondering something. She almost looked distracted, which shocked Abbie. The woman was the most competent and resourceful leader Abbie had ever met, aside from her mother. At barely over five feet tall, Charlotte was perfectly proportioned. She was not one pound over what was probably the ideal weight for her height, and not one pound less. The dress she wore, elegant yet simple blue silk, swished softly as she moved. Abigail knew she never would have heard it had not the others all moved away from the door, to the table, to take their seats. As they did so, Julian nodded to Abbie, Ava gave her a small smile, and Sophia waved.
Charlotte’s light yellow hair, paler than corn silk, was wrapped into a perfect, tight bun on her head, as normal. She was not a beautiful woman, but most would probably call her handsome. Her green eyes scanned the meeting chamber as she crossed the threshold, and any distraction Abigail had seen vanished in an instant. The head water witch nodded and pulled the door closed.
“Let’s get started,” Charlotte said as she walked around the table to sit at the head. “It is fortuitous that you arrived when you did, Sophia and Julian. We can take care of other business while the entire Council is present. But first…” Charlotte turned to Abigail and gave her a small smile.
“Abbie came for a visit,” Landon Henderson said. “While she’s here, she thought that it would be good to give you all a briefing on how things are going at the Huntsman Estate. First, though, I would like to share with her the recent developments, if the Council agrees.”
“Of course, of course,” Charlotte said, as if the question hadn’t needed to be asked. “Sophia, if you would? You took the greatest part in the investigation, so you have the most intimate knowledge of the situation.”
Sophia straightened in her chair and looked at Abigail. Abbie expected a smile from her, but if anything, the tight line of the other woman’s mouth looked as if she was angry. What was going on?
“There has been a tragedy,” she started off. “But worse, what happened has implications far beyond the actual unfortunate events. Two of our number have been murdered.”
Chapter 20
Abigail’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at Sophia, not believing what she had just heard. “Murdered? Two? Who—” she cleared her throat and swallowed. “Who were they?”
“Sylvia Moran and Peg Witcher,” Charlotte answered, her face twisting into a scowl.
Abigail knew the two well. She and Sylvia were friends, being close to the same age, and Peg had always been like another mother to her, especially after her own was taken.
“H-h-how?” she barely seemed able to get the word out.
Sophia’s eyes were liquid as she looked into Abigail’s. “They were going to Lake Tranquility to perform the ritual for Summer Moon. It seems their attackers were waiting in ambush at the lake itself. We are still not sure exactly what happened. From the residual energy in the area, they seem to have fought back but were overcome in the end.”
“Who attacked them?” Abigail asked, her voice still shaky but less so than before. “What kinds of wounds did they have?”
Sophia looked to Charlotte, and the leader of the Council gave a small nod. Sophia’s eyes left the older woman’s and then snapped back to her, almost as if she didn’t believe she had seen the nod. She sighed and looked back to Abigail.
“You must not divulge this information to anyone. Only those in this room know, except two forensics specialists who use magic in their investigations of incident scenes. There were no bodies.” Abigail gasped. “Whether taken or destroyed at the battle scene, we do not know. We found evidence, though, a piece of Sylvia’s fingernail and some bits of Peg’s flesh.
“Also, there is an echo of a large amount of power that was utilized from the lake itself. We’re guessing that Peg made it to the water and was able to fend off the attackers for a time. The apparent location of Sylvia’s body was much farther from the lake. It had to be Peg.”
“Why would they take the bodies?” Abigail asked. “I can see taking the injured or the corpses from among the attackers, but why the victims?”
“We think,” Julian said in his deep voice, “that they wanted to hide who attacked our sisters. It’s obvious, though, that this was no mundane attack. We scoured the area for shell casings in case there were firearms involved, but no one believed that to be the case, even before the search turned up with no evidence. Those two could have defended against a large number of people with guns. No, it was magic that killed them. But what kind and who? Those are the questions.”
“What condition was the skin in, the bits of Peg’s…flesh?” Abigail almost choked as she finished her question.
Sophia shifted her eyes to her husband and raised one eyebrow, then returned her gaze to Abbie. “Very good, Abigail. Very clever. The skin was cauterized, like it had been melted.”
“Yes, that’s what we believe,” Charlotte said. “Isabella is traveling for a few weeks, so we could not have her look for residue at the site. She can try to take a reading of the…remnants when she gets back to see if she can determine anything. We know nothing yet except what you surmised, that it was fires. Which is why your mission is even more important now than ever, leading us to you and your report. What do you have to tell us, Abigail?”
Abbie spent the next hour explaining what she had learned while working for Margaret Huntsman. It was precious little, mainly her schedule and her habits. She mentioned Ben’s engagement for the sake of being complete but couldn’t see how it would make any difference in the mission, not as far at the others were concerned, anyway. She did not say anything about her feelings for him or her confusion over them. This was not the time or place for that.
The Council listened to Abigail’s report, asking a few questions about those who were at the party. Abbie, a competent operative, answered them all without hesitation. She saw her father nodding slightly and wearing a small smile. It made her warm inside that he was proud of her. She wondered what her mother would think of her mission. She had always been an honest, straightforward type of witch, always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt and disliking deception of any kind. Abbie thought maybe she’d understand the necessity with the current climate.
“We have other witches and warlocks trying to find more information from other angles,” Charlotte said when Abigail was finished. “What we really need to know is how large or isolated the situation is. Is Margaret Huntsman acting alone, leading a small group, or are most of the fire witches involved? Is it even isolated to users of fire magic? Are there earths or airs involved? We need to know.”
Abigail hadn’t thought of that. Just how large was this thing? She had always assumed it was just Margaret and a few rogue fire witches. What if it was bigger than any of them had ever thought? It was a sobering thought.
The Council graciously allowed her to remain while they discussed other Council business. When she raised her eyebrows at her father, he gave an almost-imperceptible shrug. He wasn’t sure why they allowed her to stay either.
After the meeting was completed and everyone else had left, giving Abbie fond farewells and wishes for continued success in her mission, she and her father sat in two of the stuffed leather chairs in the meeting room.
“It’s unusual for Charlotte to allow anyone to sit through a Council meeting. In fact, I’ve never seen her do it. I wonder if she is considering adding another seat. After your mother…left us, the other seat was never filled, the one Charlotte vacated to become the High Water Caster.”
“Do you really think so?” Abigail asked. “I’m very young to be on the Guiding Council.”
“True,” Landon Henderson agreed. “I don’t know. I’m just saying that it was unusual.” He turned his body to face her fully. “Abbie, what’s wrong?”
Abigail jumped a little. How did he do that? “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t come here just to visit or to give your report. You’re running from something, even if just temporarily to clear your head. Don’t try to deny it. I know you too well. What’s bothering you?”
Abbie sighed. “I don’t know. I’m distracted, and I feel like I’m not fulfilling my mission.”
“Why would you think that?” her father asked. “Your report was perfect. You had all the answers to everyone’s questions and you reported on everything that you could be expected to have found out in the time you’ve been there. Not being able to find and steal evidence of Margaret’s power is understandable. You have to be cautious.”
“Maybe,” Abigail said. “Still, I’m distracted. What if I’m missing something because I am not as focused as I should be?”
Her father leaned toward her and took her hands in his. “Abbie, you can’t be perfect. Not all the time. But I think we’re talking about the wrong thing. What we need to talk about is what it is that is distracting you.”
She raised her eyes to meet his but said nothing.
“Well?” he said softly. “Out with it. What’s going on?”
“There is this guy…” she started and soon she had told him everything.
Abigail got back to the Huntsman Estate late Sunday afternoon. She had talked with her father several times during her short visit once she had confided in him about her feelings about Ben. She still wasn’t sure about them, but things were clearer than before her visit home. Her father, always sensitive, caring, and understanding, eased her mind and made her feel so much better.
“Abbie,” he had said, “more than any of the other types of elemental magic users, we water folk are in touch with our emotional side. That is, the full range of our emotional side, not just anger like the fires. Listen to your heart, flow with your circumstances, and see how it goes. Don’t let your mind overrule your heart, or vice versa. Remember that our entire world is based on smooth, flowing movement. Relax, like a calm lake, and let the wonder of life reveal to you what it will.”
She was ready to go back to work and to apply her father’s advice.
It felt good to Ben to be home. After more than a month of being gone—and worse, being with Penelope—he was happy to be back where he belonged, back to where Abbie was. Lucas was glad to see him back also. Ben’s mother had decided to “travel light,” taking no servants with them and relying on those in the estate in France.
He didn’t know what he was going to do. He liked Penelope even less than he did before they went on the trip. She thought they got along very well and that he was smitten with her. He shook his head at that.
Ben had seen Abbie a few times since his return. He was barely able to keep up the pretense of not noticing her. He wanted to look at her, stare at her, talk to her, but he didn’t. She had shown him well enough that she didn’t want him to bother her. She had avoided him for weeks before he left for Europe, and so he would cede to her wishes and keep away from her. Despite how much it caused his heart to ache to do so.
It would all work out. He really shouldn’t be spending time thinking about her, anyway. He needed to find a way out of this ridiculous engagement his mother had trapped him in. It was a little uncomfortable seeing Abbie and not talking to her, but it would get easier, in time. It was for the better. Did she realize how much it was killing him?
Chapter 21
The next weekend, Abigail was up more than three hours before dawn and in her car not too many minutes after arising. She had seen Ben only twice during the week and just from afar. She wasn’t able to try to converse with him at all. What she needed was some nice peaceful contemplation, away from the hustle and bustle of the estate and the busy servant’s quarters. It was Sunday, and she didn’t have to work, so she had planned on making the most of it. Starting with one of her favorite things to do.
As she drove the hundred miles or so, she opted for silence rather than the radio. The best thing for her right now was time away to think and commune with nature.
The sky was not even lightening yet as she entered the park. A small group of buffalo crossed the road in front of her, making her wait until they had passed. Two wolves skulked off to the side, their yellow eyes glowing in her headlights. There must have been others in the trees, she knew. As the road neared the river, a beaver waddled into the underbrush, no doubt trying to get an early start on some building project. She loved seeing animals going about their lives despite all the human invaders into their domain. It gave her hope that maybe mankind would not destroy nature completely.
There were no other cars parked at the trailhead to the path she would be going down. Abbie smiled as she strapped her headlamp on, locked her car, and started walking. She was in no hurry. Sunrise was still nearly an hour away. She breathed deeply of the cool morning air and felt more relaxed than she had in several weeks.
The walk didn’t take lon
g—it wasn’t quite half a mile, though steep—and before she knew it she was at the observation point. She had been hearing the rush of the river for the last several minutes of her hike, but once she arrived at the top of the Lower Yellowstone Falls, the roar drowned everything else out. Her smile, which she had been wearing since starting the trail, grew wider.
Abigail sat on the weathered wooden bench and waited, thinking of everything and nothing. She was lost in the sound of water falling and crashing to the rocks below, the smell of the damp foliage, and the feel of the chill mist on her face as it wafted up from below. She was so entranced by it all, she didn’t notice another person coming down the trail until he was nearly on top of her. How had she not been paying enough attention to see the light of his headlamp?
She started and jerked upright, in turn frightening the man who was only ten feet away from her. No, not just a man. It was Benjamin Mason. Looking around for a way to escape, she wondered if she could survive jumping into the river and riding the waterfall down.
“Oh,” Ben said. “I’m sorry, you startled me. I didn’t know there was anyone else here. My apologies.”
She just nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Abbie?” Ben said, peering at her and blinding her with his headlamp. “Oh, sorry again,” he said as he angled the light downward so it wasn’t shining in her eyes.
“Uh,” she stammered, “yes. Fancy seeing you here, Master Mason.”
“Oh, please, don’t call me that. My mother insists on etiquette and titles and all that, but I don’t. Please call me Ben. Not Master Mason, just Ben. I thought we were done with that.”
Her heart fluttered. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t fifteen years old. “Okay. Ben. I wasn’t sure if this was considered a public place.”
He smiled, and she was thankful she was sitting down, because if she had been standing up, her knees would have given out. The way his smile was just slightly lopsided made her want to stare. So sexy. “Thank you, Abbie. May I share your bench? I’m assuming we’re both here to see the sunrise. I’d like to share it with you.”
Water & Flame (Witches of the Elements Series Book 1) Page 12
