Chapter 3
THREE
We had been hugged before we left, me more than Lorne, especially by Thessaly. She wanted to do something for me, but she had no idea what.
“Just rest, get your strength back.”
“I don’t want to ever put those earrings on again,” she confessed.
“I think they would make a wonderful gift to a museum when you get home,” I suggested. “Don’t you think?”
“I agree.”
“But you can handle them now. I promise you they’re clean.”
“I think I might use tongs when I dry them and put them back in the box.”
“That sounds good too.”
Suddenly quiet, she stared into my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I prodded her.
“Well, we both heard Eleanor’s curse, didn’t we?”
“We did.”
“It wouldn’t have been able to work through me if I wasn’t its intended recipient.”
“True.”
Her eyes filled fast. “I’m not stupid. I know what he’s doing on his business trips and what goes on when he says he’s staying late at the office, but I also have a life I love. It’s comfortable and easy and I have beautiful things, and so I tell myself that the rest doesn’t matter.”
“Until you get cursed.”
“Yes,” she said through her tears.
I took hold of her hand. “You deserve better.”
“You don’t even know me. I could be horrible.”
I squinted at her. “You came out of your way to visit the family of your friend who passed away. That says a lot.”
“I could have come earlier.”
“You’re here now.”
She took a breath. “And maybe I’ll stay a bit longer.”
“I think James and Cass would love that.”
She hugged me one last time as Lorne and I were walking out the door.
James and Cass said they would be over soon, and I was really glad that no one saw the mirror.
That would have kept them up, and the beautiful piece of glass in its gilded frame would probably be put out on the curb.
And unlike the earrings, it was not a cursed item, and could never again be used as a portal.
Honestly, the earrings were good now too.
Hard to imagine how many things over the centuries had been uncursed but were then thrown on a garbage heap anyway. It was kind of sad to think about.
In the Jeep with Lorne, I noted his furrowed brows.
“We will figure everything out when we—”
“I was still hungry,” he grumbled. “I had one serving, and that was it.”
Leave it to him to bring up something mundane when I was trying to figure out magic. “We have lots of bread at home and wild-mushroom soup, or I could make you a grilled cheese with tomato bisque?”
“Yes. That’s the one,” he rushed out. “Please.”
I smiled at him. “Yes, my lord.”
“Oh damn, I like that.”
I was laughing as he pulled away from the curb, and just that much normal sloughed the fear and dread right off me. Love was so very powerful, and I saw it at work between us every single day.
“The snow is crazy,” Lorne commented as he drove us slowly home. “You can’t even see the road anymore.”
He was right. It was coming down again, covering everything. Once we were in front of the cottage, he parked and we both got out fast, on our way toward the door, when he put a hand out to stop me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Where are the wind chimes?”
It was strange to look toward the front door and not see them. I had so many out there, lining almost the entire porch, and to not see a single one was not only odd, but the first thing that truly frightened me. Much worse was when the door opened and a man stepped out.
“Oh, what the fuck,” Lorne said under his breath.
The man gestured for us, and when we moved, as fast as we could in the deepening snow, down the cobblestone path to the steps, he told us to hurry so we didn’t freeze.
Once on the porch, we both stood there, staring.
“What were you two about on a night like this?” he said, sounding concerned.
“We drove home from my brother’s house and—”
“Drove?” He appeared confused.
When Lorne turned to gesture at the Jeep, it was gone. “Oh…kay,” he said to me, taking a deep breath. “I’m getting a bit freaked out again.”
A gross understatement, judging by his face, so I reached out and gave him a gentle pat of reassurance.
“You’ll both catch your death,” the man said. “Come inside.”
Stepping into the cottage we had left two hours before was crazy, because the only thing that was the same was the hearth in the kitchen and the fireplace in the living room.
The kitchen was not painted a lovely green, and there was a tiny sink where water needed to be pumped, not a porcelain farmhouse one with running water.
There was a small table and four chairs, and a heavy rug in front of the fire.
No kitchen window, no sunroom, no attached greenhouse, instead simply a wall where the cottage now ended.
We stood there, huddled by the front door as he gently closed it. I noted the sliding lock and the bolt. There were no witch bells for protection, which for me, was the biggest change of all. When had the cottage ever had a physical lock?
“Take off your coats and go sit by the fire. I’ll bring you some blankets.”
Shedding our jackets, finding no place to hang them, we left them on the chairs, and then in our socks, darted toward the fireplace and sat next to one another.
In moments, the man returned, and we were bundled up in heavy, warm cotton blankets, not wool, which surprised me.
“Thank you,” Lorne said, standing to offer the man his hand. “I’m Lorne MacBain, and this is Xander.”
“A pleasure,” the man said with a smile, and now that I was entirely focused on him, I saw that he was handsome, with dark auburn hair and green eyes. He took Lorne’s hand firmly in his. “I have not met many Scotsmen, but those I have met have been fine workers and honest to a fault.”
Lorne smiled. “And your name, friend?”
“I’m William Corey, youngest son of—no, apologies. Now the sole surviving son of the late Kingston Corey.”
“Your father passed away?”
“Sadly yes, here, waiting for my brother and me to return from the war. The only saving grace was that my mother passed five years ago now, as being here without us would have been hard for her.”
“I’m sorry you lost them.”
“Thank you. I miss my family, and coming home to this barren place has helped nothing.”
“Barren?” I repeated before I could think about it. “This land?”
He shook his head. “I wish I could offer you food, but all I have is water. If the good people in town had no concern for me, I’d surely perish.”
When he said the last part, he shuddered in fear, as though what he’d uttered could actually come to pass, giving himself away.
“Are you kidding me?” I stood up, the bite in my tone obvious.
Startled, he took a step back.
“It’s because you know nothing about Corvus that you can’t even lie properly,” I spat out, disgusted. “Discard your glamour and show me your true self.”
“I have no idea what you’re—”
“Now!” I roared at him.
He tried for disbelief for a mere moment before he threw his arms up in surrender and then ran his hands through his thick hair that changed, before our eyes, from deep auburn to a golden blond.
His clothes altered as well, and it was hard to hold on to any fear when he looked like he was supposed to be at a Renaissance faire.
“Not what I was expecting,” Lorne said.
“It’s probably from where he last was,” I advised him.
“Unless…are you being punished?” Lorne asked him, which was a bit ballsy.
“Oh, you’re funny,” Giles snarled, lifting his hand toward my husband at the same time I knelt and put both of mine on the floor.
“You’re a much stronger witch than I am,” I told him, “but the cottage has never been yours. I don’t know how you moved us in time, but I suspect this part is nothing more than another glamour.”
“Xander Corey, you should tremble before—”
“It’s going to really hurt if I remind my home who I am, because when you’re expelled, I understand the magic actually rips through you first and then, second, tears apart the illusion, both of which will probably be quite painful.”
He grimaced, exhaled sharply, then lowered his hand. “How did you know?”
“There has never been a time when the stores of food on Corvus were not full for the long winter. Even those with the smallest traces of magic, like William Corey, if I’m remembering right, could take the bounty from the land to feed himself and others.”
He grunted.
“Since the time when the land was originally claimed and became Corvus, warded and bound to our family, it has provided for not only us, but for our neighbors and the town.”
“Despite so many coming after us with fire and pitchforks because of the scourge of the witch in their midst,” he said snidely, “we still provided.”
I squinted at him. “You provided nothing. Ever. And you’re confusing your history, friend.
Pockets of people have hated our family over the years, and still do presently, but all in all, in Osprey, we’ve been seen as healers, neighbors, and friends to the people in this town.
Both kith and kin. Perhaps you need to sit in our library and educate yourself. ”
Crossing his arms, he tsked.
“Where is William Corey?” I asked him, concerned that since Giles was here instead, that perhaps he’d hurt my ancestor.
“In his time on another plane with his wife he brought back from Boston with him. I don’t recall her name.”
“Elspeth.”
“As though it even matters.”
“It matters to me. They’re my family, and losing any single one means my grandfather wouldn’t be born, and that would be a tragedy.”
“The mage,” he muttered.
“The good and powerful mage,” I corrected him. “He was a great man.”
“As though that matters either.”
I shook my head at him.
“Oh, do get up off the floor,” he groused at me. “I won’t hurt your precious husband.”
“Unseal the glamour. I would have Corvus as it actually was in…1799? Just on the cusp of the new century?” I said with flourish.
“Your cheerfulness is tedious.”
I scoffed. “This, what you’re showing us, is from much further back in the timeline of the cottage. In William’s time, there was no lock.”
“You know your history.”