18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
R owan stood at the center of the forest clearing, ready and eager to train. Cora stood by an old maple tree, her hand resting on its gnarled trunk as she watched Rowan with a mysterious glint in her eyes.
“Now, remember,” she said, her voice as crisp as the spring morning air around them. “Magic isn’t just words and gestures. It’s about feeling, understanding, instinct.”
Rowan nodded, trying to grasp what seemed like an elusive concept. “I’m ready.”
“Good. Then let’s begin.”
Cora showed Rowan again how to visualize the connection to the earth and to pull on threads of energy. Rowan listened to her instructions and studied her every move, her brows drawn together in concentration. When she felt ready, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and centered herself amid the symphony of the forest around them.
She imagined her feet growing roots. But doubts and fears flooded her mind again—old insecurities and new uncertainties that ate away at her concentration. The more she tried to filter the noise, the louder her thoughts became.
You’re not trying hard enough, they whispered. You’re not strong enough.
She shook her head as if to physically dislodge those insidious thoughts. But the image in her mind wavered and crumbled like a sandcastle succumbing to an unrelenting tide.
Her eyes snapped open, her teeth clenching in frustration.
Cora watched, a slight frown creasing her otherwise impassive face. “Come sit with me.” She gestured toward a mossy patch beneath the ancient tree .
Rowan hesitated. She wasn’t used to giving up. It chafed at her, but a sympathetic flicker in Cora’s eyes softened her resolve.
Cora placed a calming hand on her shoulder, guiding Rowan to sit. “We might be going about this all wrong.” A warm smile curled the corners of her mouth. “Magic is as diverse as the world around us. There are earth witches, like me, who can command plants, soil, and stones to our will. Fire witches, like my daughter Ruby, can call forth and sway flames like a dancer leading their partner. Air witches can summon gusts, gales, and lightning with a flick of their wrist, and water witches can call forth rain or command rivers and lakes. We’re all attuned to different elements, but we all use our connection to the earth and the Goddess to harness our power.”
Rowan listened attentively, hoping there was another way she might learn to use magic—one that didn’t require perfect concentration.
“And then . . .” Cora paused dramatically, glancing at Rowan. “There are necromancers. You’re not like the rest of us, dear. Your power’s extremely rare and not elemental. You don’t command the forces of nature. You command the forces of death.”
Rowan bit her bottom lip, apprehensive about what this might mean for her training.
Cora leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I believe we need to focus less on your connection to nature and more on your unique abilities.”
Rowan nodded slowly. “How so?”
“I believe,” Cora said carefully, “that your connection is more to . . . well, death itself. It’s an entirely different type of magic that will take time to master. I also believe that you’ve been trying to invoke it using sheer brute force. It’s not good for your condition, or your magic.”
Rowan stiffened. “You know about my condition?”
Cora’s features softened. “Yes, dear. I’ve seen how you try to hide it and keep a stiff upper lip. But there’s not much you can hide from me. I’m a witch and a healer, after all.”
“I thought I was so careful. What gave me away?”
“You get tired faster than you should, and I’ve seen you limping and wincing in pain after a long day. So, I asked your vampire about it.”
Fear pierced Rowan’s insides. If Casimir already knew about her condition, did he see her differently? The last thing she wanted was for him to think of her as weak or less desirable.
The look on Rowan’s face must have given away her thoughts. “Don’t fret, dear.” Cora patted her shoulder gently. “It’s clear Casimir cares for you deeply and is extremely protective. He refused to say anything until I told him our lessons could do more harm than good if he didn’t tell me everything he knows.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?” Rowan clenched her jaw. “Why are you both whispering about me behind my back? Treating me like my opinion doesn’t matter?”
Cora sighed. “Because you’re just as stubborn as I am. You would’ve acted like there was nothing wrong unless you knew it came from both of us.”
There was a tense silence before she spoke again.
“I’ve known of other powerful witches who share a similar affliction. Magic comes from our life force—it’s deeply intertwined with our very essence. Those chosen by the Goddess to possess the strongest magic often carry the heaviest burdens.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. “Is there a cure?”
“No. There’s no cure for what ails you. Power always comes with a price. But certain mental techniques can help, so long as you don’t keep pushing yourself so hard. It’s not a weakness to work within your limitations. Please remember that no witch has ever gained control over their magic overnight. It’ll take time and patience, and a fair bit of trial and error, but you’ll get there.”
Rowan slumped in defeat. “This all feels completely overwhelming at the moment.”
“Don’t forget how special you are. You can perceive and manipulate a force that others can’t touch or see. It may be difficult. But it’s not impossible.” Cora clasped Rowan’s hand. “Try again, only this time, don’t try to force it. Close your eyes, sit, relax, and let your mind wander to wherever it wants to go. Instead of trying to push your thoughts and feelings away, observe them from a detached perspective. Acknowledge them, but don’t react to them.”
Rowan inclined her head and swallowed down the uncertainty constricting her throat. “All right, I’ll try.” She took a deep breath, forcing the tension from her muscles and allowing her body to sink further into the moss beneath her.
Cora’s voice was soft but firm as she guided Rowan. “Remember, don’t reject or dwell on any specific thought or feeling. Let them flow like water in a stream through your mind.”
Closing her eyes, Rowan tried to follow Cora’s instructions, to float above her thoughts and emotions rather than drown in them. Images and sensations swirled around her. She had to remind herself to observe them from afar and not react or become lost in them.
“Good,” Cora said quietly when Rowan’s body remained relaxed despite the tumult within her mind. “Keep going. ”
As Rowan relinquished control over her thoughts, an odd sense of calm settled over her. She allowed the serenity to seep under her skin and flow through her veins. A cool tingling snaked its way up her arm, making her skin pebble as the tiny hairs stood on end. It was dizzying yet thrilling.
“That’s good,” Cora said encouragingly. “You’re tapping into your own rhythm—the pulse of your necromancy.”
Rowan felt her power ripple with what seemed like anticipation. It was a strange sensation, like a spider’s web vibrating with the tremors of a trapped fly. As she continued to let her thoughts flow freely, she became more aware of the eerie presence of her magic, lurking at the outer edges of her consciousness.
It wasn’t frightening, not exactly. More like discovering a new limb she never knew she had. Her magic felt predatory, hungry for something. But what?
She wasn’t sure yet. All she knew was that it seemed to squirm and dance around her mind like quicksilver.
Rowan directed her focus toward the feeling, trying to sense where it wanted to go, what it wished to touch. The tingling sensation intensified, spreading across her shoulders and down her spine.
But just as suddenly as it had arrived, her power ebbed away, leaving a gaping void inside her that echoed with silence. She slumped forward, a sharp wave of exhaustion washing over her.
“Easy,” Cora coaxed gently, supporting her. “You did well.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Rowan said weakly. Stray tendrils of her hair stuck to the sweat on her forehead.
“On the contrary. You consciously tapped into your power for the very first time.” The older woman’s eyes brimmed with pride. “That’s no small feat. But it drained you. It’ll take time to get used to it.”
Rowan opened her mouth to argue, to claim that she was fine and could keep going, but she swallowed the words back down and nodded tiredly.
Cora gave an approving smile and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m proud of you.”
The unexpected praise sent a surge of warmth through Rowan, momentarily filling the exhaustion-induced void within her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she wrapped her arms around Cora’s sturdy form. It felt strange—this unfamiliarity of being held and cared for. Strange, but not unwelcome .
As they drew back, Cora wore a wistful expression. “You remind me so much of my daughter.”
“Really?”
Cora smiled fondly. “Yes. My Ruby. My fiery little witch. She’s away now—studying with a coven of fire witches traveling through the Northern Plains. She has your spirit. Your same determination and tenacity, your fierce need to understand and command what’s within you. We’ve only known each other for a short while, dear, but in that time, you’ve shown me a strength that’s rare and beautiful. Just like my daughter.”
Rowan blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, moved by Cora’s words. Her chest tightened with an emotion she couldn’t quite name, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface.
“And you both share the same stubbornness,” Cora added with a chuckle. “Goddess above, she’s so stubborn. She never backs down, even when faced with the greatest of challenges. A trait that I see in you too—one that will serve you well as you navigate the trials ahead.”
A soft laugh escaped Rowan’s lips. The comparison brought her a sense of pride, unfamiliar, but comforting. The older woman seemed to sense her emotions, because she reached over to grasp Rowan’s hand in hers.
“And just like my Ruby, I’ve got faith in you,” she added gently, her gaze unwavering. “You’ve got a heart full of fire and potential within you. Remember that whenever you doubt yourself.”
Rowan nodded, unable to verbally respond. In that moment, she felt like she had finally found the mother–daughter bond she’d always yearned for. She squeezed Cora’s hand back, conveying more with that simple gesture than she could with words.
Cora gave Rowan’s hand a gentle pat before letting go, her eyes watering at the corners. “I have to head back to the tavern now, dear.” She gathered her things. “Got a crowd waiting for me.”
“Thank you. For everything.” Rowan tried to ignore the hollowness in her stomach at the thought of Cora’s departure. The older woman gave her a reassuring smile before walking away, disappearing down the path that led back to her lively tavern.
Rowan stood in the clearing, letting a weary sigh slip past her lips. She steadied herself against a nearby tree. Her body felt heavy, every muscle protesting against the strain of using her magic .
The sun had started its descent, painting the sky with vivid hues of orange and purple. Squaring her shoulders, she started along the forest path.
The sight that welcomed her when she pushed open the cabin door was surprisingly domestic. Casimir lounged casually by the fireplace, engrossed in a book. The glow from the fire danced across his face, accentuating his angular cheekbones and strong jaw. His head shot up as she entered, piercing blue eyes meeting hers. An expression of joy washed over his face and he swiftly closed the distance between them.
“Rowan.” He said her name like a gentle caress.
His presence brought an immediate comfort that pushed away the lingering unease from her training. Driven by a surge of emotion, Rowan couldn’t resist reaching for him. She grabbed the fabric of his black linen tunic and pulled him toward her.
Casimir’s response was immediate. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his tongue tracing the line of her lips before she eagerly opened for him. Their tongues entwined in an urgent exploration. Desire coursed through Rowan’s body as she arched into his touch.
With a low groan, Casimir effortlessly hoisted her up, pressing her back against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him and tugged his hair, urging him to deepen their kiss. His hips rocked against hers, and she met his thrust with one of her own, letting out a gasp at the delicious friction.
As quickly as the heat rose between them, it ebbed. Casimir gently broke the kiss and set her feet back onto the ground, holding her at arm’s length.
“We can’t,” he said with a mixture of longing and regret. “As much as I want you—more than you could ever know—I can’t risk taking things further physically. Not unless you choose this life. My life.”
A pit formed in her stomach at his words, and the sting of rejection consumed her. “So it’s an ultimatum, then? Affection for immortality?” she asked bitterly. “Why do you think you have the right to control our relationship, Casimir? It’s meant to be a partnership. Stop trying to pressure and manipulate me.”
He backed up a step in the face of her anger. “It’s not an ultimatum. It’s a harsh reality we have to face. You’re mortal, and all mortals are fragile. I can’t watch you live in pain, age, and die while I remain unchanged. The thought alone is unbearable.”
“Well, in that case, maybe it’s better if you don’t watch.” She spun on her heel and darted toward her room, hurt and anger propelling her, a storm brewing in her wake.
“Rowan,” Casimir called after her, but she didn’t turn back .
She slammed the door to her room shut with a resounding thud, sealing herself inside with her racing thoughts. Alone in the darkness, she allowed the tears she’d fiercely held at bay to finally fall.