Chapter 17
When Elise heard she had nearly ended up in Hell, she almost collapsed outright. She might have met the divinities in person had the delivery of the news been a touch less delicate. It was fortunate Morgaine had waited until they reached home to share the terrible tidings.
Now by the fireplace and holding a steaming cup of tea, Elise could finally manage the tremor in her hands and ask everything she had wished to ask earlier but had wisely decided not to voice aloud.
“Why did you say I’m to go to the castle for employment if you well know there’s no guarantee of that?” Elise spoke hesitantly, still feeling the sort of shock that any additional surprise might stop her heart on the spot.
“That was the only way to convince Devon not to take you,” Morgaine said scornfully.
Elise saw her protector’s warmth recede to a dangerous degree, and knowing the witch was still her best ally, she decided to continue her questioning carefully.
“Why the castle?”
Morgaine shifted in her chair. Elise had the distinct feeling something troubling was about to leave the witch’s lips.
“In my years employed at the castle, I saw an artifact devoted to Danu in the gardens. The thing was so precious the king did not allow just anyone to look upon it. My curiosity led me to find a way regardless, and that was when I saw it. It is a rock as large as a boulder. The wicked thing is shaped like a crescent moon, and I suspect it was built ages before our time for the very same purpose Devon wanted you in his quarters.”
“Are you certain it would help me refine my link to Danu?” Elise asked, already suspecting the answer.
“I have no idea, dear,” Morgaine said. “We ought to at least give it a try.”
Elise froze at the realization this was nothing but a gamble Morgaine had taken on her behalf. Added to the already formidable task of being accepted into the castle, she now carried the burden of uncertainty over whether the famed artifact would be of any use at all.
“But there must be something that made you think that it could help, right?” Elise asked, hoping with all her strength the words coming from the witch’s mouth would prove sensible enough to build a plan upon.
Morgaine’s eyes lifted before her gaze drifted toward the many sparks dancing in the fire.
“In this world there is nothing guaranteed, as I suspect you already know. The only thing you can use to guide your next steps is the belief that you can find a way no matter the obstacle. I chose to believe you can do that.”
Morgaine’s words struck Elise’s heart with enough hope to lift her spirits, though Morgaine perhaps considered that improvement excessive, for she immediately added, “It was that or allowing Devon to shorten matters and send you anyway. At the very least, I bought you some time, my darling.”
Elise swallowed hard, and her crow, recently christened Bruno, flew to her shoulder in a whisper of feathers.
“I do wonder about the use of that creature from Hell,” Morgaine rasped. “It could be some representative of Danu.” She stood and walked closer to the black bird. “Tell me, dear, should Elise seek the answers she needs in the castle?”
The bird started stepping from one thin leg to the other as though music only he could hear was playing beneath the influence of Hell itself.
“He likes the plan,” Elise said with a smile.
“He’d better. It’s the only one,” Morgaine said lightly. “And why Bruno? How do you know the bird is male?”
“It has to be,” Elise said firmly. “Didn’t you say that Danu is a male divinity?”
“He is, just like the one who empowers me,” Morgaine replied, reclaiming her warm seat by the fire. “You are going to learn soon the type of changes that come when a male divinity has set eyes on you.”
“How has it changed you?” Elise was deadly curious to know more about Morgaine, so much that finding anything about her made her own afflictions and curiosities fade momentarily.
“The masculine energies of the divinities would give you a thirst for freedom unlike any other. You’ll find yourself surrounded by men as your closest allies.
You’ll bear mostly boys if you choose to try one day.
You would disrupt even if you wish not to.
Other women may still find you interesting, but the deepest connections you build would likely be with men, because they would sense that the same current that feeds them also runs through you. ”
“I see,” Elise murmured, feeling she had already experienced some of those consequences even before being claimed. “Which deity claimed you, and why didn’t you need to be taken to Hell?”
“The one who feeds my power is Hagen of the West Wind. He rules within Bromheim and Falaine, the god of fire and creation. One of the most destructive of all.” Morgaine lifted her cup with faint amusement. “I like to think that accounts for some of my sex appeal.”
“So you didn’t go to Hell because you were under his jurisdiction?”
“You can say that.”
Elise walked from one side to the other in front of Morgaine. “Tell me more about Danu.”
Morgaine tilted her head as if trying to remember something about the divinity.
“The only thing I can recall is that he reigns over time and earth. You could become an Oracle, dear, that’s no small thing.
You’ll be entrapped the moment someone finds out about your potential.
You need to refine your power in order to keep it hidden. ”
“Is that all?”
“Well, unless you wish to ask Devon yourself, then yes, that’s all I can offer,” Morgaine said with a trace of indignation.
“I apologize,” Elise murmured. “I’m just confused. I think this all happened too quickly.”
“It was unfortunate to be claimed by a foreign divinity, but dear Elise, you are on your way to becoming a witch. Isn’t that what you fought for through all those days of scrubbing and sewing?”
Elise pictured then and there what she imagined Hell might look like.
Then, with outrageous clarity, came the memory of Seth.
If the demon was to become her guardian in this world, she truly was not sure she had emerged the winner from the bargain Morgaine had struck.
She needed a distraction if she had any hope of securing some sleep that night.
“Can I ask you something else?” Elise ventured, already thinking of one of Morgaine’s favorite topics of conversation.
Morgaine lifted a hand as if granting permission to proceed.
“Why do you look so much younger and more beautiful than the other witches?”
Morgaine burst into a coughing fit so violent the witch nearly spilled her brew. It took her a few moments to recover, but eventually she was once again in a condition to speak.
“My connection to magic is stronger, dear Elise,” Morgaine replied, clearing her throat.
“That is why life runs through me in greater abundance. You’ll see, once you gain a proper hold on your own magic, and if not, Seth would always be there to aid you, just as Devon does with the rest of the coven. ”
A chill ran down Elise’s back at the memory of the final part of the festival, the one Morgaine had so carefully avoided.
She had seen just enough to figure out the rest from high above on the broom.
Had she known those were the traditions of the craft earlier on, she might have reconsidered, but by now she was far too deep in the matter to complain.
*****
Three days had passed since the festival, and Elise hadn’t yet felt any significant change besides now being trusted to stir the potions in the cauldron.
Morgaine had wanted to get her started in the final step of potion-making as soon as possible, suspecting her application for employment would require such a noble skill.
Her magic had yet to surface enough for her to blend everything to perfection, but that would only matter if she was to become the head of the king’s magical staff, which was rather unlikely.
Elise rose to the tender singing of Bruno somewhere near the glass wall of the kitchen.
The lingering remains of a dream still clouded her sight as she made her bed.
She had dreamt of the duke. He had looked painfully handsome atop his black horse, and just as in the two times she had seen him before, he had arrived in time to rescue her from some fresh disaster.
If only one could live in dreams instead of waking to the hardships of reality. Elise went sighing and twirling toward the kitchen to open the door for the bird, allowing it to stretch its wings and enjoy the increasingly warm breezes of spring.
She was still in her chemise, her hair a disastrous tangle from an intense night of dreaming.
She had just poured water into the kettle to start the tea when someone knocked at the door with the determination of military recruitment.
She feared that, just as in Lady Patrice’s house, a passing army had decided to make a stop by the forest.
Elise passed a hand over her rebellious dark curls and grabbed a cape hanging from a beam by the receiving hall. She was ready to open the door when the sight of a familiar horse near the window startled her badly enough to halt her in place.
“Morgaine!” she cried. Instead of opening the door, she sprang toward the witch’s bedroom to announce that the duke was here. A tremor shook her entire frame.
Once inside the high-ceilinged chamber, Elise hurried to the enormous bed where Morgaine rested. The thing alone occupied nearly a quarter of the room. She had first assumed it was meant for an entire family of six, but it existed solely for Morgaine’s personal enjoyment.
“Morgaine, there’s someone at the door,” Elise murmured desperately, as though Kurt possessed the supernatural ability to overhear whispers through walls.
The witch muttered a complaint and rolled across her bed, tangling herself further in the satin sheets as she groaned in displeasure.
“Who could be so insensible as to come calling at this hour of the day?”
“It’s the duke!”