Chapter Twenty
The drive to the Trolls’ compound passed in a blur as Morgan touched her fingers to her lips.
She could still feel the effects of Rowan’s kiss and the way his hard body felt against hers.
She took in another ragged breath of the night air to quiet her racing heart.
Only a few minutes ago, the cab driver dropped her off at the gate obscuring the compound’s entrance near the shores of Lake Washington.
The lands had been a gift to the Trolls from one of the local tribes, but no one, least of all the female Wizards, knew which one, why or when.
Both the magical and human world viewed this waterfront home and the acreage surrounding it as nothing out of the ordinary.
It was just another waterfront property where the reclusive and eccentric built their homes.
Overgrown with rhododendron bushes, wildflowers, cedar, maple, and birch trees, nature was doing its part to camouflage the compound from the curious.
No one would suspect it hid a world where time was suspended.
She took her time to cover the short distance along a cobblestone road that led to the ivy-covered mansion. She must learn to control her emotions. No one must guess her true feelings for the Fire Wizard.
When Rowan had gathered her in his arms in the alley, she had welcomed his embrace, his touch, his kiss and the silent promise in the way he breathed her name.
For a precious few minutes, she had forgotten she was only pretending she felt something for him.
The moment her lips sought his, the hunger for his touch was almost unbearable.
And at Gas Works Park she’d kissed him again.
It had taken all her strength to pull away and cast a spell so she could escape.
She was playing with fire. Literally.
Too soon she reached the oak-paneled double doors.
She shut her eyes against the emotions raging through her.
She sensed Rowan was as confused as she about the depths of their feelings for one another.
But if she let herself dwell on those troubling thoughts, more would be lost than her fragile heart.
Rowan was a powerful distraction. She must learn how to control her emotions or everything would unravel.
She needed all her resolve to find a permanent safe haven for the female Wizards and Wizardlings. They were depending on her.
The double doors opened of their own accord, flooding the porch with shafts of golden light. Morgan passed through the entrance and crossed to the front room. She was not alone. Completing the welcoming atmosphere, an old woman sat in a rocking chair by the fire, knitting.
The Victorian-style home on the Trolls’ compound held the charm of an old-fashioned greeting card.
Dark wood, overstuffed chairs, and lamps dripping with crystals and bright beads decorated the rooms. Forest green drapes were drawn against the deepening shadows, while the gentle smells of baking bread and sweet rolls drifted into the great room from the kitchens.
It was easy to imagine how the stress of life’s difficulties could float away on the cinnamon-and-nutmeg-scented air.
The temptation to ignore the dangers closing in on her was hard for Morgan to resist. But Wizards, both male and female, were being murdered. How could she stop the carnage? This task felt beyond her power, beyond her strength. She shook her head, trying to sweep the web of doubts from her mind.
As she sat down in a wingback chair, she smiled at the gentle-faced woman who glanced toward her.
Before Morgan could engage the woman in conversation, though, she heard a rustle of laughter, and Anne and Deidre rushed into the room, calling out her name as they jumped onto her lap.
Their cheeks were coated with flour and pink, green and blue candy sprinkles.
Morgan pushed the self-doubts away as she hugged them to her and let their childlike excitement wash over her.
“It is wonderful to see you, my Wizardlings. Are you well?”
Deidre nodded, her eyes bright with laughter.
“Oh, milady, we are having the best time! Cassandra is teaching us a spell that will make us look like big hairy creatures with sticky green slimy drool, bulging eyes and foul breath. Cassandra said humans will think we’re Trolls from their faery tales. Isn’t that wonderful? Can we stay?”
“I want to stay too,” Anne added with the same enthusiasm. “They have baby unicorns in the forest, fish that will eat out of your hand, a man who can juggle with his feet, a mermaid with long golden…”
A gentle clatter of dishes and the sound of a door being pushed open on well-oiled hinges announced Cassandra.
She entered laughing and carrying a silver tray that held a rose-patterned tea set.
“My darling children, can’t you see how tired milady is after her journey to the city?
Seattle has become so toxic of late that I wager it could sour a sugar cookie.
Milady and I need to talk while she relaxes.
There’s plenty of time to tell her all about your new adventures.
” Cassandra set the tray on a table beside Morgan, prepared a cup of tea, and brought it over to the old woman, who nodded her thanks with a warm smile.
Cassandra turned toward Anne and Deidre, her voice a blend of laughter and smiles.
“Off with you, my budding Wizards. If you hurry, Fiona will let you help with the preparations for our festival next week.”
Anne and Deidre squealed with delight, gave Morgan another hug, and chased each other down a long corridor.
Their innocent laughter was like sweet music in Morgan’s ears, a strong reminder of what she was fighting for.
The children were happy here. Their confidence grew with each passing day, knowing they were cherished, nourished, protected and encouraged to follow whatever path they chose.
Bringing the apprentice Wizards to this enchanted wonderland had been a good decision. Too bad they could not stay.
The Trolls’ compound had existed undetected for hundreds of years and its location shared by only a select few. Yet as long as Vlad searched for the missing Wizards it risked discovery. It was a cherished sanctuary that Morgan vowed to protect.
She eyed the lovely Troll who sat down across from her.
She realized for the first time that not only had Cassandra exchanged the hideous gown she’d worn on the island for a long flowered skirt and lavender sweater, but she’d spoken out loud.
If possible, Cassandra was even more radiant than on the island.
Clearly, Wizards had spent at least a millennium underestimating these unique people.
Morgan poured herself a cup of tea. “I was taught female Trolls could only communicate with their minds.”
Cassandra added cream and sugar to her own tea, eyes sparkling over the rim of her cup.
“You are learning many of our secrets. I’m sorry we felt the need to keep them from you all these long centuries.
The most important, of course, involves speech.
A long-established habit, I’m afraid. All the women of our tribe share the ability to speak with their minds as well as with their tongues.
The gift has kept us safe for centuries.
Once we reached this compound, there was no longer a need for the pretense.
We are protected here by powerful warding spells. ”
Pretense. The word stuck in Morgan’s throat.
She'd told Rowan she needed to leave to evaluate her findings regarding the Wizard found at Gas Works Park. Another pretense. She knew the cause of death. Rowan’s suspicions were correct.
The Wizards had been poisoned with a powerful enchanted potion that weakened them enough that their eyes could then be removed.
What she needed to do was find out the source, who was making it, and if there was an antidote—and a motive.
The questions weighed her down, nearly crushing her, and her hand trembled, clattering her cup in its saucer.
She set her tea down, and sank back against the soft contours of the chair. “How can you swallow all the intrigues, half-truths and lies? They threaten to choke me.”
“Like all women, surviving and protecting our children is our reward,” Cassandra said, her voice steady and sure. She raised a delicate eyebrow. “Were you able to learn anything from the Fire Wizard?”
At the reference to Rowan, Morgan sat forward and drew in a breath of air, composing her thoughts. She heard the old woman set her knitting needles on a side table and reach for her tea. Morgan lowered her voice and tilted her head toward the woman. “May we talk freely?”
“Only friends dwell here,” Cassandra responded with a smile.
Morgan leaned closer toward Cassandra, with only the table separating them.
“It is far worse than Caitlin or I first thought. At first, we believed Vlad was targeting only the female Wizards for reasons known only to him. After today, I suspect his plan is much more ambitious. I believe he targets anyone who speaks out against him.” She hesitated.
“I recognized the Wizard who was murdered. Finn McDougal. Caitlin spoke of him often as a friend to female Wizards and an outspoken critic of the Talons and the Grey Council.”
Cassandra’s hand trembled and her cup clattered on the saucer.
“I know him as well, and he and Caitlin were more than friends and advocates for change.” She set the tea on the tray.
Her gaze drifted over to the old woman, whose cup was poised halfway to her lips.
Cassandra continued, her voice quivering.
“He and Caitlin spent time here last summer.”