Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
There was nothing else to do but think on the airplane. Then the hour drive from Boston to Salem was long enough to turn me into a nervous mush. We rented a car. Torin drove again, and I sat next to him.
“Where to?” Torin asked as he gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Hayden was slouched in the back seat.
“To the middle of the city. There’s got to be a center or a town square,” I said.
Earlier, we passed by a welcome sign. Pulling out the magic map with a single black dot with no other landmarks to go by was useless. My best guess was to check the city center.
Torin kept following the GPS to the downtown area, and when we got close, I knew we were at the right place.
We arrived at the same town square with narrow alleys and cobblestone streets I saw in the witch’s dream realm. Minus the burning woman on the stake. No fire or witches were in sight, only humans minding their own business. Not suspecting that the dark witch lurked around.
Square stones lined the small roads with trolley tracks. Short metal poles blocked off several streets, isolating the area only for pedestrians. The surrounding buildings appeared newly rebuilt. Small tourist shops had their doors open while pedestrians strolled around.
After parking on the side of the street, we walked to the courtyard.
We were at the right place. Cordelia had recognized the athame book as hers, and the map from that book led us to the town square where Cordelia was somehow related to the woman burning at the stake.
It was all connected, but I didn’t understand why I had to be involved.
Hayden’s gaze darted around. “Someone’s following us.”
“Of course she would,” I said.
The small hairs on my forearms stood on end. I could feel her supernatural presence—heavy air suffused with a palpable sense of foreboding.
I wished I knew what it was we searched for and where it was.
The three of us stood in the middle of the quad, looking around for any signs.
Bare trees surrounded us. Angry clouds drooped over the city, and a mysterious mist crept closer. The air turned chilly, and a cold shiver ran down my spine.
“She’s close,” I muttered.
In the distance, I spotted the butterfly creature who’d led me to the magic books, and I did a double take.
“Now what?” Torin asked.
The butterfly wanted me to follow it, just like the two other times.
“I think I found my answer,” I said and was about to tell the men to follow me when the dark witch stepped in front of us.
My groan drew the men’s attention to Cordelia. She acted quickly in the presence of the two most powerful men from the werewolf kingdom.
While murmuring something, she lifted her arms, casting a spell. The mist thickened around me and swirled like a tornado, leaving the two men out of it.
The dark witch stepped inside the whirlwind, unaffected by the furious winds. The storm she created trapped us inside, isolating us from my mates. The temperature in the small, enclosed space dropped, and my body trembled.
She didn’t attack me immediately, but her cold glare told me she was considering it. I had to buy myself time.
“I don’t understand why you’re angry with me,” I said.
She tilted her head, and her hood fell onto her shoulders.
“Ah, so much for you to learn, Princess. No two athame are the same, and the witch magic coming out of the book felt familiar to me. I’m sure the athame belonged to my mother. The woman who you saw burning at the stake. Her name was Katherine Faith.”
An uncomfortable lump formed in my throat. “I’m sorry for your loss. But why are you telling me this?”
I looked around for my mates, but the gray-ish, twirling winds built up a wall high enough so I couldn’t see to the other side.
“The athame is the only thing left of my mother, and I want it back. I won’t let someone like you take it away.”
“And hypothetically speaking, if I were to give you the athame, although I don’t have it, what would you do with it?”
The witch cackled a bone-chilling laugh.
“Then, child…” she said and stepped forward.
Goosebumps pricked up my neck. I stepped back, and my shirt lifted at my back from the strong wind.
“I’ll carve and enchant as many weapons as necessary to kill the vampires and werewolves who betrayed me and my mother.”
My mouth fell open. The notes of hatred in her voice made me believe she was serious and determined.
Cordelia studied me. “You don’t really know what happened at the Salem witch trials, do you?”
I shook my head.
“Most victims were true witches and a few human women and men. But it wasn’t the humans who staked the people. The witches were brought to extinction because of the supernaturals. Vampires and werewolves made a deal to enslave the witches in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.”
Cordelia lifted her arms to the sides, palms out to control the winds. She’d done that in my dream realm, too. She’d muttered spells and pointed to the elements to control them. If she couldn’t do that, then she wouldn’t be able to make wind or deadly branches.
I formed a plan immediately.
“And where is your father? Did he meet the same fate?” I asked.
I had to keep her distracted.
Cordelia laughed. “That idiot was killed after Mother’s death. He spread the rumor that my mother was a witch because he had a mistress on the side. He wanted to live happily with her, but once the authorities burned Mother, they suspected and killed him, too.”
My chest tightened, but I had to stay focused. I reached inside my bag and pulled out the folded map.
“Once I opened the book, I got a map. Here it is,” I said and extended my arm to her.
All she had to do was break her spell and her concentration to take the map.
Her thin eyebrows furrowed. “How did you open a witch book without an opening spell?”
“With my tears.”
The woman's body twitched.
“Go find your athame if you want it so much,” I said, urging her to take the piece of paper.
Cordelia reached with one hand for the map while the other stayed up, holding the wind with her spell.
I snatched the map back to my chest right before she touched the paper. “If the athame belonged to your family, why didn’t your mother leave it to you before her trial?”
Her surprise morphed into some dark emotion, her eyes protruding, flinty, and cold.
But I had to keep going to get her to lower her arm.
“But there’s more, isn’t it? Your mother hid the athame from you, and somehow, I was led to the book that showed its location instead of you. That’s why you’re pissed off at me, right, Cordelia?”
The glare she gave me was nothing short of a promise of destruction.
I tossed the map on the ground and stepped back. When she bent to pick up the map, she dropped her arm to her side, and the wind stopped.
For a second, the whirling air slowed and cleared.
I ran toward my mates.
“Run,” I shouted at them.
“We can fight her,” Torin insisted.
“No, no. I got a clue.”
I grabbed Torin’s wrist and pulled him. Hayden followed us, and we got into the car and drove off without glancing back at Cordelia. It’d be a moment before she realized the map didn’t hold any other clues to the location of the athame.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Her mother’s last name was Faith.”
“We already knew that, sweetheart. Hence, Cordelia Faith.”
“But only recently, people put stones in Salem's graveyard to honor the people who burned or were hanged because they were accused of being witches,” I said in a “duh” manner.
“But her mother was a witch, Anna,” Torin said while driving on a small street away from the square.
“So what? That still doesn’t justify them taking her life. The point is that we’ll search for the magic item at the graveyard.”
Hayden gave directions to Torin from his phone.
The quiet street only made my pulse speed up. We passed a witch museum, a witch convenience store, and a witch memorial building.
The graveyard within the city limits was surrounded by two-story buildings forming an open space of yellow grass and tombstones. After we got out of the car, we walked past the rusty gates.
Moss spurted on the gray stones and covered the fading letters of the names. Some stones only noted the year of death. Some had the word Hanged carved on them. The air felt heavy with a mix of damp earth and decaying vegetation.
I couldn’t dismiss the possibility, but I didn’t want to believe that my great-great-grandfather would unite with our enemy for the demise of another supernatural race.
The thought stirred a storm of feelings raging inside me.
I couldn't believe it, I refused to accept it, and I was puzzled, trying to remember the principles Dad instilled in me that were meant to run in our royal bloodline.
The taste on my tongue was sour, and I knew it was betrayal.
I pushed my emotions deep into my soul and concentrated on what we had to do.
We arrived at a dirt path that led us to a metal sign with a long list of names.
“Directory,” I said and ran my finger down over the fading names. “I don’t see Faith, but some names are faded. Let’s split up and find the name.”
I turned left and started walking between two rows of gray stones followed by Torin.
After gracing me with his smile, Hayden walked the other way.
I gave Torin a serious look.
“I’m not leaving you,” he said.
After a moment, I walked up to a shiny, well-kept headstone with only the last name of Faith and the year of death, 1692. A short vase with fresh flowers stood in front of it, and I held my breath.
Had we found it? I walked around it and touched the cold stone. I listened to my instincts, letting them guide me to magic. I hoped for a sign, but nothing happened, and my chest tightened.
Hayden joined us. “It’s not like we can dig someone’s grave, sweetheart.”
“I know that. I…didn’t think this through. I only followed my instincts.”
And where had the butterfly creature gone?
“You did good, Anna,” Torin said.