Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
RUE
Iwoke from an almost sleepless night, tormented by the delay in our casting a spell.
A sense of foreboding was settling on me more and more; from the moment I opened my eyes.
I didn’t think it had anything to do with the house, which was strange because ridding ourselves of whatever was taking over the house had been what had kept me awake.
Whether it was that, or Theo’s investigation of me, I wasn’t sure, but I did know I was running out of time before something horrible happened.
I sat up and swung my legs out of the bed, shivering despite it being a warm June morning.
To ground myself, I thought about the next few Sabbats.
We would soon begin preparations to celebrate the Summer Solstice in three weeks’ time.
It dawned on me that it would be the first Sabbat I was going to commemorate since Theo Le Cerf entered my life.
I doubted that everything could return to normal by then but if not, I hoped it might do in time for us all to enjoy Lammas, the first of the three harvest festivals celebrating the first bread baked from the new grain harvest.
I calmed slightly as I thought about how much I loved the change in seasons too, and especially looked forward to Mabon, the second harvest of the year, when we gave gratitude for the abundance the earth had given us.
I recalled my mother was less fond of the autumn equinox.
She didn’t enjoy the darker winter months and occasionally took to her bed for days.
I frowned, surprised to have recalled such a memory.
For some reason I felt her nearby and wondered why.
The withdrawal of my parents – first one, then soon afterwards the other – had, I realised, gone some way to making me the person I was.
When someone began investigating me and delving into my family life to discover whether I practiced witchcraft, as Theo was doing, I immediately drew back from them.
I thought of Theo and that innocent, most joyful of afternoons when I found myself in his arms being swung around to the lively music, only for me to discover his identity.
I should have known it was too fortuitous for me to meet someone as perfect as he was – or seemed, before I knew better.
I thrust thoughts of him aside, got up from the bed and hurriedly washed and dressed before I became too cold.
As I brushed my hair and plaited it into a long braid, I thought back to my frustration at having to wait until today for our coven to convene again and work our magick.
‘There’s no point in us casting a wrong spell,’ Grandmother had explained, when I grumbled to her after the women had left. ‘It’s better to wait and be fully prepared than to cause further issues by doing something incorrectly.’
‘She’s right,’ Aunt Sorrel had agreed, but I could tell they were just as frustrated as I was at having to wait.
I had not yet dared to look at the wall behind me. I had deliberately set my back to it all night. I stood silently, trying to muster the courage to do so. I swallowed, hoping it hadn’t grown too much. Taking a deep breath, I turned.
My mood dropped and I became so tense that it was as if my muscles were about to cramp.
It had grown, as I had suspected – but far more than I’d thought.
I backed away from it until my back was against the door.
Now the thing had lengthened and was part way across a second wall.
Within days, this thing would take over my entire room.
I had a dreadful fear that once that happened, I might be taken over by it too.
I gasped at the thought. Was that possible? I had seen many things others might deem impossible, like glamour spells, whereby a witch’s appearance changed so as to become unrecognisable. Maybe the coven would cast a glamour spell over me when Theo came to arrest me? The thought calmed me slightly.
I heard a whisper. My name. I spun round to see who had spoken, then stilled as I heard it again.
‘Pay heed, precious child.’
My heart pounded so loudly that I heard it as clearly as the words, which I realised came from deep within the walls.
The hairs on my neck and arms stood upright and I could barely breathe, let alone move.
I thought back to my initial instinct and then my grandmother’s suggestion that this could have something to do with my mother.
Were we right? I remembered how, the previous day, Clarice had commented that my mother would do anything in her power to protect me, even from the grave.
I was no longer a child – but I supposed that, to my mother, I could still be.
‘Is it you, Mama?’ I whispered, not wishing my grandmother to hear me from her room. ‘Please tell me if it is.’ I tried to think what to say next. ‘What are you trying to tell me? Are we in danger?’
It was an unnecessary question because I already knew I was in dire trouble with the Witchfinder. We all knew that much.
‘Danger.’ The whisper was now barely more than a breath. I suspected it had taken my mother’s spirit a huge amount of energy to come to me at all, but why would she warn me when I already knew about the investigation?
I rested both palms on the mould and closed my eyes, willing my senses to open and be alert. ‘Please, Mama, tell me what I’m to do.’
I stayed where I was, imagining her mustering up the strength to respond, and had almost given up when I heard a gentle sigh, and a waft of roses and lavender swept past me. She was still here.
‘Tell me, Mama,’ I pleaded, my voice cracking at being able to converse with her for the first time since I was nine.
‘Your father.’
I was about to sneer and make a derogatory comment, but now wasn’t the time. I needed to pay attention to her warning. Was she trying to tell me he hadn’t died? ‘Is Papa still alive?’
‘Alive. Coming to you.’
I snapped my hands back from the wall in shock. Could she be right? Realising what I’d done, I quickly pressed my palms and fingers flat against the powdery mould again, trying not to recoil from the cold.
‘Can I trust him?’
I waited but she didn’t speak again. Eventually I moved back, furious with myself for breaking contact with her when I didn’t understand her message. Did she mean I should be wary of my father? Was he the person bringing danger to me?
I leant back against the door, trying to take in the news that he was still alive after all these years.
Could my father really be coming to cause me harm? Wasn’t it enough that the Witchfinder and his ghastly son had turned my life upside down by taking the accusation against me seriously?
His son, I fumed. Well, Theo Le Cerf can go and find some other unsuspecting female to dance with. Then it dawned on me that, despite his protestations, he might even then have been given the task of investigating me.
My stomach clenched in anger. Had his intention been to charm me by dancing with me and making me laugh in order to trick me to becoming his friend and opening up to him about my life and my practices?
Not that I would have ever confided in him, or any other man for that matter.
Apart from the two men who already knew me to be a witch – and I trusted Jem and Pierre with my life – no other man, including my father, had an inkling about my inherited powers.
Why would my father want to hurt me, though?
I thought how shocking it must have been for him to see my mother arrested, accused of witchcraft and put to death.
The destruction of his trust in her innocence deepened my loathing of the Le Cerfs and made me all the more determined to carry out my oath to seek revenge for my mother’s death.
I gasped as something occurred to me. Could my mother’s presence have something to do with my vow?
Was she trying to warn me against carrying it out?
Did she not wish me to avenge her death?
Maybe she knew that if I did, I might bring about my own.
Not that I yet had any idea how to ruin the Le Cerfs.
But I was resolved to show them that taking on the women in my family would cause them more grief than they could ever know. The thought made me feel much better.
‘Where is that girl?’ I heard my grandmother moaning from the attic room above me.
I tensed. How had I not heard the coven return? I realised it must be time for us all to prepare for our spell and ran to fetch my grandmother’s book of shadows from where she had hidden it. Excited to be doing something practical, I then hurried upstairs to join them.
‘Where have you been?’ Aunt Sorrel whispered, noticing me as soon as I walked into the attic. She grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me over to join the others. ‘Here, help us move back some of the furniture. We need space for our magick.’
I did as she asked, dragging a chair backwards, catching an edge of the covering and accidentally causing a cloud of dust to woosh up into the air. My nose tickled and I began to sneeze.
‘Stop wasting time,’ my grandmother hissed, glaring at me as if I had done this on purpose. ‘We must make haste if we want this done.’
The women all gave me a withering look, and I mouthed an apology. Sometimes being the youngest witch was less fun than I had expected.
I tried harder, with the next piece of furniture, not to disturb any dust and as I finished moving it, caught Iris watching me, a sympathetic smile on her face.
She knew how I felt, I realised. It was comforting to have someone else understand how strange it occasionally was, trying to fit in with these older, more experienced women who knew each other well.
I looked around the room to see what else I could move but everything seemed to now be in place.
‘This is good,’ my grandmother said, seemingly satisfied with our efforts.