by Lily Luchesi
“I assume, by the lack of Dark magic attacks, that Sinclair doesn’t know?” Caelum asked.
Daphne rolled her eyes. “No, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so why would I bother telling him about Harley? These bloody Clans; I wish I was an apprentice!” She huffed and crossed her arms tightly, hating how her emotions came to the surface at the absolute worst times.
Draven reached out and gave her a hug. “Cae and I know more about that than you might think. You know, being a vampire and all here. If you love him, maybe one day you’ll be able to be with him again.”
“And you two wouldn’t hate me for leaving Michael?” she asked warily.
Caelum sighed. “No. You’re our friend as much as he is. We want you to be happy. If it’s with that overgrown bat, then so be it.”
She glanced outside, where clouds were obscuring the quarter moon. “I have a bad feeling that it won’t matter who I want to be with. I don’t think we’re going to make it.”
One year later…
It was September, and the start of the school year, which always meant that Salem was his busiest, finalising lesson plans and meeting new first time Coven students. All while attending meetings with The Company. Something inside told him that what he was seeing in these meetings was not the whole story. Everyone seemed far too tense lately. While he was usually silent at the gatherings, at the next one he vowed to speak up, ask direct questions.
“What is our plan? It seems like we have been puttering about ever since I joined,” he said. “Robert, you told me you had a multi-step plan. Part of that was you and Fiona bearing a child, which you did. What else must be done before we act?”
Robert arched an eyebrow, appearing amused. “Eager for blood, Salem?”
“No. Eager to know that I have not pledged allegiance to someone like Edelstone: all talk and no trousers.”
Robert burst into laughter. “If you must know, we had a … minor setback. Something Helga was supposed to ensure didn’t happen did, and now I must take care of that before we can begin the final phase of our plans.”
Salem realised that he hadn’t seen Helga at all. For quite some time. He rarely paid attention, as everyone wore those same green cloaks, but now that he thought about it … she hadn’t been there in over a year. Possibly longer.
“Where is Helga?” he questioned.
Robert flapped a hand. “Relieved of her position some time ago. Permanently.”
As in, you killed her, Salem thought blandly. He wasn’t pro murder, but he wasn’t going to get upset over people who were so inconsequential. “Very well, then. Just ensuring that we do still, in fact, have a plan.”
Robert smiled. “Oh, we do.”
“And my part in it?”
“Keep Edelstone out of it. I know you cannot do much with the PID, but merely keep the King and the Elders in the dark about our movements, and you will have done plenty for the cause.”
After the meeting ended, Salem felt a tell-tale tingle on his chest. Unbuttoning his high collar, he pulled out the amulet. It didn’t tingle or heat up often. In fact, the last time it had was the birth of little Roger, signalling another piece of Ainsley’s plan completed.
Without dwelling on it too much, Salem took a wrong turn as he headed toward the front door, waiting until the rest of The Company members who went to the meeting had cleared out.
There was something going on, and if none of The Company was privy to it, then Salem knew it had to go to new depths of Darkness. When the door closed on the last guest leaving, he slipped back upstairs to where he knew the Ainsleys had their parlour as well as Roger’s nursery.
The door to the nursery was open, and Salem could hear Fiona and Robert speaking, as well as the babbling of his godson.
“I hate to say it, but Salem was right,” Fiona said. “It does seem as though we have done nothing.”
Robert sighed. “We cannot move while she lives. You know this as well as I do. She must be removed from the equation post-haste.”
She who? Salem wondered.
“The whole family should go. You know that the woman has been a hindrance to Sinclair since they met. Just get rid of the lot of them, I say,” Fiona commented.
Robert made a noise in his throat. “There’s the boy, too. Nicolas.”
“Even him. Any Fraser we can kill is a bonus to us. Not like sweet little Daphne wasn’t already at the top of our list to get rid of when the time came.”
Salem’s stomach dropped to his knees or thereabouts, but he forced himself to control his emotions and listen to see where this conversation went.
“The family will not go down easily,” Robert commented. “They have many powerful allies.”
Fiona scoffed. “I know. Pretending to be friends with the Clan traitor and the bloodsucker makes my skin crawl. I have to shower whenever we leave their presence.”
“And,” Robert continued as if his wife hadn’t spoken, “we cannot plot a stealth attack. Daphne will feel it coming and stop us. If we go in, it will start a war, Fiona.”
“I know,” she said. “But if we do not get rid of the brat now, Roger has no chance of growing up and fulfilling the prophecy!”
Robert nodded. “I agree with you, believe me. But we cannot go in now. We must wait until the timing is correct. When they will least expect us.”
Fiona smiled. It was not a nice smile; rather, it made Salem’s blood chill. It was aimed at her son, who began to whimper at the sight. “Soon, my bairn, the Darkness will reign. All thanks to you.”
Salem couldn’t stay there any longer, nor could he run away. Fiona was tucking the baby in, and any moment they would leave the room and see him. If he ran, they would surely hear him.
There was a trick Robert had taught him, one that neither of them should have known as boys, as it was illegal: teleportation. However, he had to hope that Edelstone and the PID would give him a pardon when they heard the reason why he felt the need to teleport. To save the Clan Fraser heirs from a brutal murder.
Willing his energies and picturing Edelstone’s office, he thought the silent incantation and felt a pulling at his very soul as the spell began to work. He could feel his cells, each one of them it seemed like, as he was transported through space, from Keswick, England to Inverness, Scotland.
He materialised in the middle of the King’s office, a little off balance. He didn’t have time to right himself before the King began to scold him.
“Salem Sinclair! You of all people know that teleportation is illegal! I dearly hope that you have a brilliant reason for doing so right into my office!” But under the anger, Salem could see that Edelstone was concerned. Salem never broke rules. Ever. For him to break the law, it had to be something major.
“I have just come from Ainsley Manor,” he said, trying to remain calm and failing as his breath came short and worry filled his heart. “They’re planning … oh, Goddess, what they’ve been planning… I was a bloody fool to ever believe him.”
“Sit down, my boy,” Edelstone said, using magic to move a chair from the desk so Salem could sit.
He couldn’t however. He was filled with so many emotions, his body felt like it was going to explode. Shame, anger, guilt, fear, love … all of that and more swirled within him, threatening to overtake him and send him into madness.
“It’s Daphne,” he gasped. “They want to kill her!”
After that, he was unable to say anything more as tears overcame him, spilling from his eyes and he could barely breathe. He was thankful for the chair, as his legs gave out from beneath him, and he nearly ended up sprawled on the floor.
He was wracked with guilt for not telling Edelstone sooner, for spending the last three years assisting the Ainsleys with their plan.
The King let him cry himself out, and when he was done he felt weak and ridiculous. However, he was too worried about Daphne to care.
“Now, tell me what happened,” Edelstone said calmly. “Omit no detail.”
>
“I was at the Ainsleys tonight. Thought something was not right with their plans. So I remained inside the manor and overheard a conversation. They are planning to kill the entire Smith family, but Daphne in particular. And it will happen soon. We have to stop them!” Salem said, voice rising.
Edelstone kept that same placid expression on his face, and Salem wanted nothing more than to smack him.
“What, exactly, did they say?”
“That with her alive, Roger Ainsley cannot…” He trailed off, realising that if he told Edelstone everything, then he was outing himself as a productive member of The Company, as well as having been lying to him for three years about his allegiance. He would wind up executed for his crime, or at least stripped of his powers and imprisoned. His life was over. However, he knew he had to tell the truth. If he didn’t, Daphne would die, and he couldn’t have that. Her life and her happiness were worth far more than his own.
And so he told Edelstone everything, every single plan he had been privy to and had not revealed to the King as promised. He felt no remorse, only guilt that he hadn’t tried to stop this sooner. But he was not sad. No, he was glad. Glad that he could do his part to save the woman he loved, and the people she loved.
Edelstone listened without his expression changing, as if Salem were talking about a new potion rather than a systematic betrayal of the entire Coven.
When Salem was done, he sat with his hands clasped, not meeting Edelstone’s eyes.
“Why did you not tell me any of this, Salem?” the King asked quietly. He did not sound angry, but rather sad.
“After that letter, I did not think I was needed in the Coven any longer,” Salem admitted.
“Letter? What letter?”
Salem looked up sharply. “The one you sent the day before my Elder exam. Telling me my ‘services were no longer required’.”
The King’s eyes narrowed. “I never wrote nor sent any letter, Salem. Someone, my guess would be your former roommate Robert, wanted you sundered from the Coven, and they succeeded.”
Salem ran a hand through his hair, tugging hard. “I am a fool.”
“No. You were just a boy,” the King corrected. “You were hurt and mistreated for most of your life. Cast out, ostracised. Searching for a place where you could finally belong. You are not a fool; you were merely misled. As many were before you, and many will be after you.” He reached across the desk and placed a gnarled hand on Salem’s arm. “You were brave to come here tonight, admitting your crimes and deception so plainly. A fool would not have done so.”
Salem was silent, trying not to give in to the urge to cry again.
“You do know that such deception warrants a call to the PID, yes?” Edelstone asked.
Salem nodded. “Go ahead. Call them. I do not care any longer what happens to me. As long as you give me your word that you will protect Daphne and her family.” He met the King’s eyes, trying to convey how he felt in his gaze.
Edelstone sat back, seemingly to stare at Salem with a searching expression. “You truly do not care if you are sentenced to death?”
“As long as they are safe. And you do not let the Ainsley brat rise to power when he grows up.”
Edelstone said, “You truly mean that?”
“With every inch of my shrivelled, black heart.”
The King began to smile, and Salem wanted to start flinging hexes. One did not smile at a time like this.
“Does something amuse you, sir?”
“No. In fact, I am quite disheartened at what is going on with The Company. However, I am impressed with, and proud of, you. You have truly grown into a well-rounded young man, Salem.”
Unsure if he was really hearing these words, Salem was silent and let the King continue.
“You have come to me in honest repentance, wanting to right your wrongs and protect the very Clan that at one time wanted you dead. It is admirable, to say the least.
“As the King, I have a few rules I can bend. And that includes deciding what the punishment will be for Coven offenders. And I do not wish for you to be put to death over childish mistakes.”
So he will revoke my powers then, Salem thought. Good. I think I’d like to be rid of them.
“Will you, in the future, vow to me and to the Coven, that you will no longer earnestly work for The Company?” Edelstone said.
Salem nodded. “I vow.”
“And if I were to ask you to remain in The Company?”
Salem bristled. “Then you can go to Hell, old man.”
Edelstone, instead of getting angry, burst into laughter. Salem hadn’t realised that he said those words out loud.
“Dear boy, you are surprising sometimes. No, no. I meant remain there as my spy, as you originally promised me you would. Help me gain as much intel as I can on when they plan on making their move so we can make a preemptive strike.”
Oh. “I would. Would … that be my punishment? A way to make amends, then?” he asked.
The King nodded. “Partly.”
“What would the other part be, may I ask?” He should have known that Edelstone wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily.
“I am an old man, was an old man when I took on this job. And I still have not selected my successor.”
That was news to Salem. “What about Mrs. Donahue? Everyone thought she was next in line to take over.”
Edelstone bowed his head. “It is traditional that the current leader starts a rumour to take away attention from the true successor, to stop any potential threats. I have yet to find anyone suitable for running the Coven … until now.
“My boy, why is it you think I made you take so much of your Elder training with me instead of Donahue or Boyle?”
Salem shrugged. “To keep an eye on me. That you did not trust me.”
Again, the King chuckled. “Ah, no. I saw potential in you that no other magician has had in decades. I saw a true leader, a true King, in you. I would like for you to be the next Coven King.”
Not one to be easily rendered speechless, Salem was at a loss for words at that proclamation. There was no way in any universe that Edelstone thought him a good fit to run the Coven. All of Clan Munro was universally despised, himself in particular. He was not a King. At best, he was lucky to be an Elder.
“You have truly gone mad, sir,” he said.
“No, on the contrary, I am not mad, as many people seem to think. I love this Coven and the magicians who live in it. And when my time comes to die or retire, I need to know that it will be run by someone who has the same appreciation for the Coven as I do. Who found a safe haven here. Who found a home.
“Let me put this to you as plainly as I can: you will agree, or your powers will be revoked. There is no other option here.”
Blackmail. Now there was something Salem could understand better than kindness. Blackmail was evil, and he knew evil. He could work with evil.
“Is that not a new low, even for you?” he asked. “Blackmailing me into taking a job I do not want, that will most likely kill me?”
“It is not blackmail. It is … an ultimatum. Regardless of your response, you can rest assured that the Smith family will be saved. But I think that, in time, you will see the validity of my offer.”
Edelstone stared Salem down, and Salem did not wither in the old man’s gaze. He really did think he was mad, to want him of all people to be the next King. There was no way he was agreeing to it. Yet … as much as he considered his powers a burden, he was proud of them. And he wanted to help. He wanted to help save Daphne and her family, after he nearly got them killed.
“You are truly wicked,” Salem commented coldly. “But I will do it. I agree to become the next Coven King.”
Chapter 25
Daphne was just getting home from shopping for Harley’s third birthday presents. She had been teaching Harley about all the different types of magic out there, and the toddler had been adamant that she wanted to learn how to brew potions. Ignoring the stab in her heart
that her little girl wanted to be like the father she never knew, she went out and bought a human chemistry set for beginners for her to practice on. Salem had once told her it was what his mother had bought him as a boy.
As she was unlocking her door, there was a popping sound and a little blue elf was standing next to her, smiling brightly.
She gave a startled yelp and nearly dropped her packages. “You startled me,” she scolded. While it was considered highly archaic, the PID and UK Coven still employed elves to deliver messages in a timely manner. The rest of the Covens simply used letter carriers or had evolved to use technology.
“My apologies, Mrs. Smith. But you have an urgent letter from the King,” the elf said, presenting her with a parchment sealed with the Coven crest.
“Thank you,” she said as she took the envelope. She went inside her house and opened it the moment she set the bags down. In the back of her mind, she wondered if Edelstone was going to ask when Harley could start school.
Instead, she had received an urgent summons.
“Mrs. Smith, please come to the Coven at once. It is of dire importance. Leave Mr. Smith to watch the children to be sure they remain safe, especially little Harley.”
Fear raced down her spine, and some part of her knew that this was it: this was the culmination of the Darkness she had been feeling ever since the apprentice murders began when she was seventeen.
After hastily explaining to Michael what Edelstone wanted, she went to their Pege pen and rode one to the Coven, wishing she could teleport.
She landed deftly in the pen within the Coven borders and ran to the castle, her feet barely touching the ground. Whatever Edelstone wanted, if it required someone staying home to protect the children, it couldn’t be good.
At the castle doors, she managed to compose herself. It wouldn’t do to look frazzled in front of the Coven members who might not have any idea anything was going on.
Nimbly, she climbed the staircase and headed to the office. She knocked, wishing to just pop right in and demand an explanation to the letter. But she was a Fraser, she couldn’t be seen to be impolite.
