Magic of the Void: A Reverse Harem Witch Series (Winslow Witch Chronicles Book 1)

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Magic of the Void: A Reverse Harem Witch Series (Winslow Witch Chronicles Book 1) Page 6

by Lena Mae Hill


  Familiar, she reminded herself as they entered the damp chamber with the sulfur scent. Eli placed his hand on another half-circle cut into the wall. The door swung open, and light flooded over them. She had to squint for a second, her eyes having grown accustomed to the underground light.

  A horrible, high, whining noise was coming from some kind of animal racing around the room so fast she couldn’t make out what it was. From far above, sunlight filtered down through an opening. Vines hung from the walls of the circular opening, and the walls were covered in thick green moss. It was like looking up from the bottom of a well. Above them, birds chirped and fluttered up and down the depth of the “well.”

  They stood in the room that opened up at the bottom of the shaft. A pool of the clearest water Sagely had ever seen beckoned before them, glimmering with light from within. She spotted huge koi fish circling in the pool, around which, assorted animals lazed. When she noticed a hyena among them, she shrank back. She’d hate to be the person who fell into this well from above.

  She stepped towards the serene pool, but Eli held out a hand to stop her. “Some of the familiars are pretty fierce,” he said, then looked up to where the shrieking animal was running in circles around the circumference of the opening. “Some of them are fish and water creatures. Quite deadly.”

  He caught her expression and turned his attention to the shrieking thing. With a little coaxing and some magic, he got it down, though it continued keening pitifully all the while. It seemed to be some kind of glossy, chocolate-colored weasel. Holding it firmly around the middle, Eli started back along the passageway towards Quill’s room. Sagely followed.

  “What’s your familiar?” she asked. “Is it deadly?”

  “I have a bat,” he said, looking quite pleased. “It’s in my pocket.”

  When they reached Quill’s room, Sagely entered before turning to see that Eli was not with her. She remembered Quill saying that he had to want someone to come in before they could enter. Stepping back out, she took the animal, which was now writhing and shrieking. Its little claws scraped trenches in her skin as she gripped it firmly. She hurried to the bed, barely able to contain it as it wriggled and lashed out in her grasp.

  Let’s hope it doesn’t eat his face off, she thought as she released it onto Quill’s sleeping chest. The moment she let it go, it darted for his throat.

  Eleven

  Sagely snatched at the weasel, but it was too late. It dove into the nook between his shoulder and neck, tunneling under him. Quill opened his eyes sleepily and smiled, shifting his position as the thing burrowed under his back.

  “Thank you,” he said, looking relieved.

  “Is that it? That’s where your magic went? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “I wasn’t sure it would make it so far,” he said. “If we’d known about the attack, I’d have had her with me. A warlock never goes anywhere important without his familiar.”

  “What if your familiar is a fish?”

  “Then you find a way to convey water,” he said with a grin. “Most of us are earth workers, though. Hence the underground.” His smile faded and he sat, reaching behind him to retrieve his familiar.

  “Earth workers. So you influence the elements?”

  “We’re very in touch with the natural world, yes,” he said. “Witches always have been. We draw our energy from the earth, and yes, we worship Mother Nature.”

  “Great. You really are hippies,” she said, sinking onto the edge of the bed.

  He didn’t smile at her joke. “We originally came down here for protection,” he said. “Today…well, that used to happen often.”

  “You were attacked by dark witches a lot?”

  He cradled his familiar in his hands, stroking its shiny fur. It made her miss Muffy, though she had a feeling her cat might try to eat his weasel.

  “Over the centuries, witches were not protective of our magic, and we let it be diluted by entering the mainstream population and marrying common people. When we realized what was happening, that almost no one had potent enough magic to actually do anything, we started to form covens again. We wanted to save the witches we had left, to train them to the fullest of their abilities and procreate with the intent to strengthen the magic in our children.”

  “Covens are actually breeding programs? Sounds lovely.”

  He shook his head, holding out an arm to let his weasel run up his bicep and leap onto his head. “Not at all. But we recognized we were losing a sacred art. Not everyone was happy to see witches honoring our culture. And some people saw an opportunity.” He frowned down at a blood splatter on his arm. “Let’s just say the children with the highest capacity for magic often disappeared before they reached adulthood.”

  A shiver went through Sagely as a memory surfaced, unbidden, of her own childhood, shuffled from one foster family to another, dragging her one bag of possessions with her everywhere she went, not wanting it to be left if she was suddenly moved to a new placement without notice. “They were kidnapped by the dark witches?”

  “Dark witches, fae, and goblins,” he said, his forehead knitting with concern. “Are you okay? Is this upsetting for you?”

  “I—I had a rough childhood,” she said, then added quickly, “But I wasn’t kidnapped. Nothing compared to that.”

  He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her arm. “What happened?”

  “Oh, you know, nothing,” she said, trying to sound light. “Foster kid.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not a big deal,” she said. “I’m all grown up now, and it doesn’t matter. So, tell me more about these dark witches. They kidnapped kids and turned their magic dark?”

  “Like attracts like,” he said. “They pollute them, unlock their magic before it’s ready and twist it. They use them like child soldiers. It got worse when I was a kid, somewhere around ten, when I was close to coming into my magic. Kids started disappearing almost every day.”

  “They built all this to protect you? Wow, you really are their star quarterback.”

  Quill looked at her blankly, then shook his head. “The coven wanted to protect me, yes, but also they knew how devastating it could be if I turned against them. I was a danger to them. If my magic turned dark, I could probably wipe out the entire coven. That’s when we moved underground, to keep the kids safe and hidden from the world. And to hide our training, so no one sneaking around the forest could see our abilities.”

  Sagely nodded, remembering the feeling of the dark magic invading the cave, invading her. “So you’re supposed to be safe down here. But the dark witches found us anyway.”

  “Any witch can go dark, just like any person can do evil. We all have both good and evil inside us, the potential to be either. That’s how magic is, too. If you feed the darkness, it grows. It needs more food. Only more darkness satisfies it.”

  “That makes all too much sense,” she said. “I’ve had my own periods of darkness.”

  “Imagine that, but with the added power of magic. It’s a gift, but also a burden. If you’re angry and you lash out as a common human, you hurt someone’s feelings. If you lash out with magic…”

  “You might kill someone,” she said softly, dropping her eyes to her hands, blood dried in the creases of her palms like a sinister prophecy.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said, his eyes boring into hers, almost glowing green in the golden light of his bedroom. He waited a long moment, until she didn’t know if he was talking about today, or…

  But he couldn’t know about her childhood. He couldn’t read her mind.

  She stood abruptly. “Let’s get out of here. I need some air. I can’t live down here all the time. I’m not a kid who’s going to get snatched, and I’m not a mole.”

  “You could have a mole familiar,” he teased, standing and letting his weasel hop off his head to crouch on his shoulder. “That would be sexy.”

  Sagely returned his smiled, grateful he was not going to pry into somethi
ng she obviously didn’t want to talk about. But she caught his look and understood that even as he let her off for now, he knew there was more. But it was her past, not something she wanted to share with a guy she barely knew. She’d already told him more than she told most people in a year.

  “You’re healed,” she said as they stepped out of his room. “That was fast.”

  “She takes good care of me,” he said, reaching up to stroke the weasel’s head.

  She was not jealous of a weasel. She was totally not.

  She noticed the wound on his arm, where the dark warlock cut him, had already scabbed over. She was still splattered with blood, but she tried not to dwell on it. A lifetime of practice helped with avoidance of ugly topics.

  As they stepped out into the main corridor, Quill’s hand brushed her back. The magic crackled between them, back to full strength. “So, your little weasel there,” she said. “What’s its name?”

  “Okay, first of all, she’s not a weasel.” He took the familiar off his shoulder and cradled her along his forearm. “And she’s not an it. All familiars are the opposite sex of their owner. It’s all about balance. And she’s a mink.”

  “Like the thing they make coats out of?”

  He let out an exaggerated gasp and covered her little ears with a thumb and forefinger. “Earmuffs,” he hissed, holding her away from Sagely, as if she’d threatened to make her into said coat.

  She laughed as he returned the mink to his neck. “Where are we going now?”

  He grinned sideways at her, his green eyes shining. “To the Enchanted Forest.”

  Twelve

  After a quick lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches, which she found immensely comforting in this crazy new world, they headed out.

  When they stepped out into the cabin above all that hidden wonder, she had to blink a few times, remembering where she was. She’d forgotten all about the little building where she awoke.

  “This place makes you comfortable,” Quill said. “It takes on the features that you find familiar and safe. Did you feel at home when you woke up?”

  “If my home was a prison, maybe,” she said with a laugh. “But seriously, I wouldn’t know. I spent the last three years in a dorm room, though, so I guess it did feel like home. But your magical house has a severe lack of decorating skills.”

  Quill opened the screen door, motioning for her to follow. They stepped outside into the warm June sunshine. A gust of wind sighed through the trees, swaying the greenery of the almost jungle-like forest. Sagely inhaled the fresh, green-scented air.

  Quill looked at her and grinned. “Are you ready for this?”

  “If by enchanted, you mean the Ozark National Forest, then I guess I’m already used to the Enchanted Forest.”

  “Not to be cliché, but you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  She laughed at Quill’s lame joke and stepped off the porch after him. They made their way down a small dirt path into the woods. Suddenly, a grapevine as thick as her forearm fell from a tree, swinging across their path. Startled, she glanced at Quill, who was grinning his fool head off. “After you, milady,” he said, gesturing grandly at the grapevine lying in their way.

  She gave him a look to tell him just how crazy he must think she was. “Am I supposed to click my heels together and wish I was home?”

  “The forest is inviting us to play.” Quill grabbed onto the vine with both hands and gave her a wink. “I guess your first ride will be with me.”

  She stepped forward and wrapped her hands around the vine below his. Quill slipped an arm around her waist, gripping the vine in front of her while keeping his other hand above hers. Then he muttered something that was definitely in a language that wasn’t English.

  Before she could ask, the vine moved as if alive. It swung away from the trail, down and out from the mountain. She stifled a shriek of surprise, but Quill had no such reservations. He let out a loud, joyous whoop as they swung between trees. The vine lowered them to the ground about fifty feet from where they started.

  Still laughing, Quill reached up without even looking. A branch bent down and twisted lovingly around his hand. With his other arm still around her waist, he jumped up, and the branch lifted them aloft. It delivered them only ten feet from where they began, not quite as thrilling as the vine but still awe-inspiring. They made their way down the entire mountain that way, each tree branch bending to cradle them in its thick quilt of leaves or grasp them with its supple branch.

  The vines were the most fun. Grapevines coiled down from the trees and swung out far from the slope, lowering them after swinging them a few times. At last, they reached the bottom of the mountain. They were both out of breath and laughing, their hair tangled and their faces shining with excitement. Sagely had never met someone like Quill, a guy so unconcerned with looking cool. He simply enjoyed himself—a rare adult who had not forgotten pure and simple joy.

  For a moment she was envious. She didn’t know if she’d ever been like that, even as a child. Definitely not after her parents died in a freak hiking accident.

  Quill’s smile melted, and his eyes moved to her lips, but a frown creased his brow. Damn it. He always sensed her lapses into gloom. She didn’t want to be the thing that took the smile off his face.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” she asked. “Is that all you got?”

  “That’s just the beginning.” Quill motioned for her to follow as he jogged down a narrow dirt path. They emerged next to a sparkling stream. For a few minutes, they followed its course in silence, taking in the peaceful gurgle of the clear water as it trickled over the mossy stones. At last she heard roaring ahead. They stepped from behind a boulder and into view of a cascade of water pouring into an emerald green pool.

  Quill grinned at her and reached for her hand. “Ready for a swim?”

  “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

  He darted a look at her, a challenge in his eyes. “Who needs a swimsuit?”

  “I just met you,” she said, laughing. “But nice try.”

  “Remember how you were afraid that we were all hippies?” Quill asked. “Well, I don’t think there’s a bathing suit among us. We swim here all the time, Sagely. But if you’re uncomfortable with nudity, wear your underthings.”

  “I’m not uncomfortable with nudity,” she said. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Quill’s eyes moved slowly down her body, almost painful in their thoroughness. She waited, her heartbeat coming fast. She had been checked out before, but never quite so intensely. Quill’s eyes finally made it back to her face, and she was surprised by the hunger she saw pooling there. She swallowed hard.

  “Maybe a bathing suit would be a good idea for you,” he said.

  “I don’t know how this shared magic thing works,” she said when she found her voice. “How do I know if this is the magic, or if it’s real?”

  She wasn’t used to being so open with guys, but Quill was so open that it was hard not to be the same with him. It was nearly impossible to play games with someone who so obviously refused to play along.

  “Magic is real, Sagely. If this is our shared magic, or if it would’ve happened without it…either way, it’s happening, and it’s real.”

  After a second, she had to look away. He was so intense, and he was offering so much, so fast. But she didn’t get emancipated at age sixteen, graduate high school a year early, and put herself through college on academic scholarships by studying her ass off to keep her grades up, just to wind up attaching herself to some man.

  “Quill, listen. Maybe this is real.” She broke off and swallowed hard before forcing herself to go on. “If it’s real, I’m not going to run away from it. I’m not afraid of intimacy. At least not deathly afraid.” When she smiled, Quill smiled back at her, but he didn’t interrupt. He waited for her to go on, knowing there was more. After a moment, she did.

  “I need you to let me take the lead on this. I know you’re the most powerful warlock, and I can tell by
the way the others treat you that you’re used to getting your way. But I need to control how fast or slow this goes. And you need to let me.”

  Quill’s eyes flashed with a brief stubbornness at the challenge, and she could tell he wasn’t used to taking orders. But after searching her eyes for a moment, he must’ve felt how determined she was. He relented after one tense moment. “I can do that. But it won’t be easy for me when you start adding to your collective. It won’t be easy for me to see you swim naked.” He glanced at the pool and cracked a small smile, but his eyes remained serious.

  “Adding to my collective? What’s that?”

  “You know. When you marry other guys.”

  “What the hell, Quill,” she said, drawing back. “You think I’m some kind of man-eater?””

  “Witches are polyamorous,” he said, as if she should know this. “All witches get to start their collective when they finish their training.”

  “You’re polygamists? With the sister-wives and everything?”

  Quill shook his head. “Not sister-wives, unless you consider sharing a husband makes you sister-wives. In covens, women have that luxury, not men. Our society is very matriarchal.”

  “Oh.” She tried not to let her curiosity show. “So only witches have more than one partner? Not warlocks?”

  “Yes,” he said, a frown creasing his brow. “We hold life as the most sacred of gifts the universe gave us. So, it follows that women, who bring new life into the world, are precious to us. Collectively, a group of warlocks protect their witch. That’s why it’s called your collective. When you finish your training, you’ll be expected to start finding partners for your collective.”

  “Damn, if I’d known that, I would have joined a coven a long time ago.”

  Her attempt at a joke worked, and Quill smiled. “It might sound like a dream come true, but believe me, there is plenty of bickering and some fighting. But once things are ironed out, it moves smoothly. There are bound to be jealousies, especially for a jealous man like me.” He circled her waist with his muscular arm and nuzzled her red hair.

 

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