Chapter 11
Rowan opened her eyes and probed her head and body for any aches and pains. Luckily, there was no headache from the night before.
But then the thought of what she had done came flooding back, and she groaned and pulled the duvet over her head.
“Fuck.”
She lay there for a moment, eyes closed, feeling the weight of it settle on her chest. The walk. The streetlights. The hand. The kiss. The air cracking around them on Hyndland Road.
She reached over to the bedside table and picked up her phone from the charger. Seventeen notifications. All from the WhatsApp group.
“Shit.”
They must have been talking last night. She’d put her phone on silent the moment she got in. She didn’t open the messages. She didn’t want to feel any angst before her morning routine. Whatever they had to say could wait thirty minutes.
She looked at her watch. 5:13 a.m.
She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and made a cup of tea. Then she sat cross-legged in her sacred space in the living room, barefoot on the wooden floorboards, and closed her eyes.
She hesitated before sending out her energy, afraid of what she might find.
She took a deep breath and projected her energy out to the Veil, the way she did every morning. The effect was immediate.
The dent was bigger. Not just a dent now. A thinning. She could feel the Veil’s fabric weakening at one specific point, like a cloth worn so thin you could see light through it. Her stomach sank. She continued to probe, and it seemed like only one point had been affected. One point of connection.
One place where a witch and a Veil Walker had stood on a pavement and kissed under the streetlights.
And the Veil had thinned around them.
She had done this.
She probed further, drawing her energy slowly along the thinning point, mapping its edges. And then she felt it. Not at the weak spot itself, but a few streets over. A faint doubling. A frequency overlapping with itself, almost matching, almost but not quite.
She focused.
A child. Walking down Hyndland Road, holding her mother's hand on the school run. But the energy around the child wasn't one signature. It was two, layered so close they almost matched.
Something on the other side of the Veil was paying attention.
Rowan pulled her energy back so fast it left her dizzy.
DAs she opened her eyes, she noticed the sigil on her arm. It was burning. Not the gentle warmth she’d felt before, or the sharp heat from One Devonshire Gardens. This was constant. Low, steady, and unrelenting. It hadn’t stopped since last night.
She looked down at it. The brooch mark, Jean’s mark, fused into her skin the night Jean died. It was awake now. Properly awake. And it wasn’t going back to sleep.
She picked up her phone and opened WhatsApp. She scrolled up to the first message.
It was from Fiona. Did anybody feel that?
Rowan checked the time stamp. Two minutes after the kiss.
Her head dropped.
She scrolled through the other messages. Isla had come straight back in. Yep. I felt it too. Then Morven. Then Elspeth. Then Cat. Then Orla. All of them, within minutes of each other. All of them had felt it. Every single one.
This was real. She had caused a ripple to emanate from the Veil, and every witch in her coven had felt it in real time.
Rowan hung her head and stared at the floor.
She was meant to be the leader of this group. Meant to set the line, not cross it.
And she hadn’t just crossed it.
She’d lit it up.
But the feelings were still there, and she couldn’t ignore them either.
The answer was obvious. You cut it off. And yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
* * *
She went about her day in the shop with a heavy heart. She served customers, made small talk with Janet, arranged displays she’d already arranged. But everything felt flat. The colour had drained out of the morning.
She knew Isla would call. She knew it was coming. So, instead of waiting, she called first.
Isla picked up immediately. “Where have you been? You’re missing all the action in the group.”
Rowan closed her eyes. Truth. Always the truth.
“I fucked up, Isla.”
“What do you mean, you fucked up?”
“When I was walking home last night, I went by Hyndland Road. I was hoping to see Callum. And I did. I bumped into him, and one thing led to another, and we ended up kissing.” She paused.
“And the spark, the energy, everything – it was real, Isla. And I know I shouldn’t have done it.
I know I should have stepped back straight away.
I know I shouldn’t have taken the Hyndland Road way home.
I should have gone up Highburgh Road. But I don’t know what it is.
You know me. I’m not like this. I can cut my feelings off.
I’ve done it before. But there’s something about this guy, and I don’t know what it is. ”
The line was quiet for a moment.
“But Rowan, this is dangerous. To yourself and to the others. We don’t know what’s going to happen. We’ve all felt the Veil this morning.”
“I know. I felt it too. During my morning routine. There’s a weakening. One specific point.”
“So, you know what you’ve done,” Isla said. Not unkindly. But directly.
Rowan nodded, even though Isla couldn’t see her. “I know.”
“You have to cut it off. There’s no question. You can’t see this guy again.” Isla paused. “Rowan, what if you see him again and you end up – I mean, if that was just from a kiss last night, think about the consequences of?—”
“I know,” Rowan said quietly.
She did know. She knew that if Callum had asked her up to his flat last night, she would have gone. That was how strong the feeling was. And she knew what that would have done to the Veil.
“What are you going to do?” Isla said.
“Honestly? I don’t know. All of me knows this can’t go on. And all of me knows I want to see what happens with him.”
“Rowan. You can’t do this.”
“I know. I know.” She let out a breath. “Listen, I’m going to go just now. I’ll speak to you later. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’ll sort it out.”
“Watch yourself, Rowan.”
“I will. I’ll speak to you later, Isla.”
The phone went dead. Rowan stood behind the counter of The Magick Wick and stared out of the shop window, watching the traffic roll by on Clarence Drive and the school kids walking up towards Hyndland Secondary, their voices carrying faintly through the glass.
The sigil on her arm burned on.
Janet looked across at Rowan from over the counter. “Are you okay, hen?” she asked, screwing up her eyes a little.
Rowan shook her head out of her reverie. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just having one of those days,” she said. “Just ignore me, Janet.”
She felt immediately guilty. One of those days was nothing compared to what Janet had been through after losing her husband. Rowan’s problems were self-inflicted. Janet’s never were.
“Anything I can do?” Janet asked.
“No. Honestly, nothing at all. Just ignore me.”
At that, the shop door opened and a woman in an expensive cream coat and short, grey hair strode in.
She looked at Janet, then at Rowan.
“I presume you’re Rowan,” the woman said. She had a soft southern Irish accent, clipped but recognisable.
Rowan frowned. “Yes. And who are you?”
Her back was immediately up. Something about the woman’s energy – or rather the absence of it. Rowan reached out instinctively and hit a wall. Not the same silence as Callum. This was different. This was deliberate. Trained. Shielded.
“Can we talk in private?” the woman said.
Janet looked at the interaction between them and turned away when Rowan caught her eye.
“Yes, we can,” Rowan said. “How long is it going to take?”
“I don’t know.”
“We can go across to Peckham’s.”
“That’s fine.”
They crossed the road to the café on Clarence Drive. Rowan ordered two coffees and chose a table in the far corner, as far from anyone else as possible.
The woman pulled off her gloves finger by finger and laid them on the table. She removed her cream coat to reveal a white tailored jumpsuit with a black belt and white court shoes. Everything about her was precise, expensive, and controlled.
“So, who are you?” Rowan asked, sitting down.
The woman looked into her eyes and held the stare. “I’m from the Council.”
“Glasgow City Council?”
“I think you know what Council I mean.”
“And what’s your name?”
“Danu.”
“Well, Danu, obviously you know me. What is this about?”
Danu looked around the café before leaning in. “It’s about the weakening of the Veil. A beacon lit up last night.”
“A beacon,” Rowan said. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know exactly what I mean. Stop being coy. You’re wasting my time, and you’re wasting your own.
A Veil Walker beacon lit up last night and alerted us.
Now we need to find out what it’s about.
” She folded her hands on the table. “I would normally go to Jean, but she is no longer with us. So, I’m coming to you, as leader of your …
” she paused, and the word came out with distaste, “… coven.”
“Let me get this right,” Rowan said. “A beacon lit up to do with a Veil Walker, and you’re coming to me to ask about my coven. What does that have to do with us?”
Danu shrank back just a fraction at the directness.
“There’s only one way a Veil Walker’s beacon lights up and alerts the Council,” she said. “We watch for a lot of different things, and this is one of them. A beacon lights when a witch’s energy mixes with a Veil Walker’s. That’s the only way it ever happens.”
She held Rowan’s gaze.
“Now, it’s been simmering for a few days. We’ve been aware of a low signal. But something obviously happened last night to set it off in a way we couldn’t ignore.” She leaned forward slightly. “I’m giving you the opportunity to tell me what it’s about.”
“How the hell would I know?” Rowan said, leaning forward herself, keeping eye contact.
“You’re the leader of your coven. I would expect you to know everything.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And if I did, I certainly wouldn’t come to the Council with it. Not after the way you’ve behaved in the past. We’re not exactly friends, are we?”
“You could make this very difficult for yourself,” Danu said, leaning back as the young barista arrived with two coffees.
Rowan looked up. “Thank you,” she said. The girl nodded and walked away.
“What do you intend to do about it?” Danu asked, picking up her cup.
“Nothing,” Rowan said. “But if you can give me some information on what happens when a witch’s energy mixes with a Veil Walker’s energy, then I’ll certainly look into it further.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Because if I’m being honest, we all felt it too last night.”
“What time was that?” Danu asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Nine thirty-three.”
Danu nodded slightly, as if confirming something she already knew.
“So, you want to know what happens when a witch’s energy mixes with a Veil Walker’s energy?” Danu said.
“I do. We don’t know anything in depth. We’ve known about Veil Walkers, but not the details. The more information you can arm us with, the better. It helps us. It helps you. It helps everybody.”
Danu looked at her, sizing her up.