Chapter 18 #3
“No.” Charlotte started to shake her head only to bite her lower lip as Wynn glared at her.
The older woman had just admitted she’d watched Wynn die.
“I mean I was hidden in the woods. I wasn’t old enough to be an official member of the coven, but my mother and aunt were there.
I followed them and watched from a distance. It was horrible.”
“No shit.”
Charlotte flinched. She looked old and miserable. As if she were decaying along with the isolated covenstead.
“Sorry. I don’t understand,” the woman said. “How did you survive?”
Wynn held up a hand. “First I want to know about the coven.”
“Know what?”
Wynn shrugged. “I have no memory of the witches. Or my time here. I want you to fill in the gaps.”
“Really?” Charlotte blinked. “No memory at all?”
“Only of my near death.”
The woman winced again, then with a jerky motion she abruptly turned away and shuffled toward the fireplace.
“I have a book that might help.”
Wynn cautiously stepped over the threshold, careful to leave the door open. “I’m not a traditional mage, Charlotte, but I’m not helpless,” she warned. “Be very careful what you plan to do next.”
The woman clicked her tongue, smoothing her palms down the threadbare fabric of her nightgown that looked to be at least three sizes too large.
Had she recently lost weight or did it belong to someone else?
Wynn couldn’t sense any other presence in the area, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be disguising themselves with a spell.
“My powers are for healing, and they have faded until I can barely brew a potion,” Charlotte admitted.
“The magic of the coven died a very long time ago.” The woman bent over to study the books, at last choosing one from the middle of the stack.
Grabbing it with gnarled fingers, she straightened and shuffled to the table.
“This should answer some questions,” she said, glancing back at Wynn.
“What is it?” Wynn demanded, tapping into the strand of magic that would create a blinding darkness so she could escape if things went sideways.
Right now, Charlotte was her only connection to the past. She didn’t want to kill her unless she absolutely had to.
“The history of the Graia Coven.” Charlotte tugged on the heavy leather cover of the book, tipping it open to reveal the spidery handwriting on the yellowed parchment.
“Most of it’s pretty boring. The earliest witches had a connection to the druids who first crafted the medallions that we all wear.
It supposedly gave us a mystical power that other covens envied. ”
Charlotte stepped aside to allow Wynn room to stand in front of the book.
With a frown, Wynn studied the faded illustrations of robed men forging the medallions before handing them to a circle of identically robed women.
She flipped over the page, realizing that the scribbled text was written in a language she didn’t understand.
Ancient Celtic? A secret language only the coven understood?
“What’s in the rest of the book?” she demanded.
“There’s a brief explanation of how the witches were drawn to this location by a powerful magic that made the earth tremble,” Charlotte said, thankfully not going into any boring details as Wynn continued to flip through the pages.
When Wynn said she wanted to know about the coven, she didn’t need a tedious history lesson.
Wynn reached a page that was different. It looked like a long list. “What’s this? ”
“The rest of the book is a catalogue of the names of the witches who were members of the coven over the centuries.”
Wynn skimmed her fingers over the names, more resigned than surprised that she didn’t recognize any of them. So far nothing about this place had jogged her memories.
“Why are some of them written in purple?” she demanded as she reached the last page.
“Those are the witches that came from aristocratic families.”
Wynn snorted. “Why would that matter?”
Charlotte hunched her narrow shoulders. “Many of them brought large dowries with them that helped to support the coven. One of the early founders even donated this land that extends from the river to beyond the woods along with the cottages.” The woman heaved a heavy sigh.
“At one time there was a large meeting hall in the meadow, but it collapsed long ago. I’m the last witch left, you see.
Or at least I thought I was until you showed up. ”
Wynn shut the book. This wasn’t the information she wanted. “Why are you the last one?”
Charlotte looked confused. “Because of what happened to you, of course.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really have no memory?”
“Only of the day they tried to torch me. Hard to forget that,” Wynn snapped, pretending that she hadn’t just recently retrieved the memory. “Why do you blame me for what happened to the others?”
The witch twisted her hands together, as if bothered by the question.
Unless this was all an elaborate act, Wynn silently warned herself. Maybe Charlotte killed the other witches to absorb their power. It seemed unlikely, but Wynn wasn’t going to take any chances. She was going to assume this witch was a dangerous threat.
“I don’t,” Charlotte muttered. “Not exactly. It’s just...”
Wynn squashed her stab of irritation as the words died on the woman’s lips. Charlotte was obviously disturbed by Wynn’s return from the grave. Pressuring her wasn’t going to help.
“Start at the beginning,” Wynn urged, trying to soften her tone. “Not this beginning,” she hastily added, closing the ancient book. “How did I end up in this place?”
“You were born here.”
Wynn flinched. It was the obvious answer.
Any mage, whether she was a Void or not, had a mother or grandmother who could use magic.
Still, it was one thing to think that the coven stumbled across her and decided she needed to be burned alive.
It was another to realize that the murderous mob chasing her with torches had been women who’d presumably loved and cared for her since she was a baby.
“My mother was a member of the coven?” she forced herself to ask.
“Yes. In fact, she was the leader at the time. That’s the only reason you were allowed to stay here after you were born.”
Wynn was confused. “Why? The coven didn’t allow babies?”
Charlotte licked her lips, as if they were suddenly dry. “Most of them, but after your birth your mother called in a seer. I think she hoped to prove that you were the chosen one, destined to take over the coven after she retired.”
Unease stabbed through Wynn’s heart. “I assume that’s not the future the seer revealed?”
“When she touched you she supposedly fainted,” Charlotte said with a visible shiver.
“When she finally woke up, your mother demanded to know your future, but the woman would only mutter the word ‘destruction’ over and over. The other witches wanted you banished, but your mother refused to listen to anyone who suggested you were putting the coven in danger.”
Destruction? Wynn clenched her hands. Had she been cursed from the moment she’d been born? That hardly seemed fair.
“Obviously they convinced my mother they were right since they tried to kill me,” she said in tight tones.
“Not for sixteen or seventeen years. I remember vividly the day it changed.”
“What happened?”
Charlotte glanced toward the window, as if oblivious to the fact it was coated in dust. “You were standing in the middle of the circle helping to stir the potions brewing in the community cauldron.” Her gaze moved to the open doorway.
“I was playing in front of the cottage with my dolls. I remember I was pouting because my mother wouldn’t let me go into the woods to play.
She said that there was a strange magic buzzing in the air.
She was worried danger was coming. And she was right. ”
Wynn studied the gaunt face that appeared ashen in the flickering firelight. As if the memory was making her physically ill.
“What was the danger?”
“At first I didn’t know. I was still playing with my dolls when you suddenly cried out like you were in pain.
Everyone started running toward you—we all thought you’d been burned—but before we could reach you, there was a weird humming sound and you started to glow with this terrible white light.
” Charlotte squinted, as if the mere thought of the light still bothered her.
“It was so bright I squeezed my eyes shut. I’m not sure what happened next, but there was a lot of screaming and a few witches tried to cast spells and eventually I could smell smoke.
Then the next thing I knew there was a huge explosion and I was flying through the air to land against the fireplace. ”
Wynn didn’t have to wonder about the explosion.
She’d heard enough stories about the wild magic that flared through women when they became mages to imagine the fear and chaos it’d created.
The only difference was the fact that the magic hadn’t bothered to stay around for her.
And she had no memory of the event. Which meant that she got all the bad with none of the good.
Typical.
“What happened next?”
“When I opened my eyes I could see the witches lying on the ground bleeding from the chunks of metal that went flying when the cauldron exploded. There were even roofs blown off the cottages.” Charlotte shook her head.
“I’d never dreamed that one person could hold so much power.
I was both horrified and jealous I would never have a fraction as much magic. ”
“Destruction,” Wynn murmured.