Chapter 13
“Oh my God, this is three nights in the space of six days that we’ve met up. This is becoming a habit. Might as well start a commune,” Cat said, laughing, as the group gathered and waited on Isla coming through with teas and coffees.
All eyes were on Rowan.
“So, what’s this about, Rowan?” Cat asked, as Isla came through with a tray of tea, coffee and biscuits and set it down on the coffee table.
Rowan sat on the sofa and looked at Isla, who nodded.
Fiona caught the look. “Oh, this must be serious.”
“Okay. Full disclosure. I’m just going to tell you the full truth, guys.” Rowan took a breath. “So, after coming back from Isla’s the other night, after what we found out, I met Callum. On his road. On Hyndland Road.”
“Why were you on Hyndland Road?” Elspeth looked at her. “You went looking for him, didn’t you?”
Rowan pursed her lips and nodded, almost apologetically.
She then proceeded to tell them everything that happened that night, and why the Veil had crackled at 9:33 p.m.
There was a silence in the room. Nobody spoke.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Orla said. “I can’t believe, after what we spoke about the other night, you actually put us in danger. You’re the leader, for goodness sake.” She shook her head.
Fiona put her hand on Orla’s knee. Orla was obviously furious.
“I know,” Rowan said. “I’ve no excuse for it at all. I’m not even going to try and give an excuse.”
“What the hell happens now?” Morven asked.
“The Council came to see me today. Or a member of the Council came to see me.”
“Oh my God,” Cat exclaimed. “And what did they say?”
Rowan told them the exact conversation she’d had with Danu. The four stages. The beacon. The binding threat, what Lorna had said. All of it.
“Basically, they’re gunning for somebody in this coven,” Morven said. “And they’re watching.”
Sitting there in front of everybody, telling them exactly what she’d done, was gut-wrenching. It was only now that Rowan fully realised the gravity of her mistake. What she’d done with Callum. What she’d exposed them all to.
Isla spoke up. “Listen. As long as she doesn’t do anything else, nobody’s going to find out anything.”
“Yeah, but what if they try and bind us?” Fiona said. “What if they decide to bind the whole group? And that’s us. We’re done. No magickal powers. Nothing. Business is gone. Everything. It’s not just our magickal powers that are at stake.”
“Elspeth, you haven’t said much,” Cat said. “What are you thinking?”
Elspeth shook her head slowly. “I trusted you,” she said. “And you put us all in danger.” She paused. “I can’t. It’s hard to get my head around that.”
Rowan could only look at the floor.
“We’ve all made mistakes,” Isla said.
“That’s fine saying that, Isla,” Cat said. “But Rowan’s our leader. We’ve only had our powers for six months. We’re just gelling as a group. Rowan’s been doing this for twenty years, and she trained as an apprentice under Jean for all those years.” She turned to Rowan. “You should know better.”
Rowan could only nod her head in agreement.
The conversation went back and forth as they each had their say. It was clear to Rowan that everybody was disappointed. Some were angry. Isla, bless her, was trying to stick up for her. But Rowan could still feel the let-down underneath. Even from Isla.
“I have a question,” Elspeth said, after ten or fifteen minutes of talking.
Rowan looked at her.
“What are you going to do about Callum?”
Rowan thought about it. “Obviously I’ll not see him again.”
“And if he tries to contact you?” Elspeth asked.
“I don’t know. I’m going to have to tell him I can’t see him again. That I can’t be in touch with him.”
“If you saw him walking down the street right now, you would just ignore him?” Cat asked.
“No, I wouldn’t.” She paused. “Again, just being honest. I wouldn’t ignore him. I would just tell him straight. I can’t see him. That nothing can happen between us.”
“And obviously he’s going to want to know why,” Orla said. “You going to tell him?”
“No. Of course not. That’s not my place to tell him. That’s up to his family. His mother, I think, is the only person that could tell him that.”
The room fell silent again.
Elspeth stood up. She gave a quick look around the rest of the group.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’m going to go. I’ve got things to do.”
And she left the room.
Nobody moved.
The sound of the front door closing carried through from the hallway, and then Elspeth’s footsteps on the stairs, fading.
Orla looked at the door and then back at Rowan. “She’ll come around,” she said. “But she’s right to be angry.”
Rowan nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
Cat stood up and started gathering the mugs. It was her way of dealing with things. Keep moving. Fill the silence with something useful. Morven helped, and within a few minutes the group had shifted into that quiet, exhausted gear that comes after an argument nobody won.
Isla touched Rowan’s arm as she passed. “Stay as long as you need,” she said softly.
Rowan shook her head. “No. I’m going to head home. I think I’ve done enough damage for one night.”
She pulled on her jacket and said her goodbyes. They were kind but muted. Fiona hugged her. Cat squeezed her hand. Morven told her to get some sleep. Orla just nodded.
The night air on Byres Road hit her like cold water.
She walked fast, head down, cutting through the back streets towards Clarence Drive. She didn’t take the Hyndland Road route. She wouldn’t be taking that route for a long time.
Back in the flat, she kicked off her shoes, dropped onto the sofa, and sat in the dark. She didn’t turn on a light. She didn’t make tea. She just sat there, feeling the weight of every face in that room pressing down on her chest.
Elspeth’s quiet voice. I trusted you.
She pressed her palms against her eyes and let out a long, shaking breath.
The sigil on her arm burned on, steady and low, as if reminding her that none of this was finished.
Her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her.
She almost didn’t look. She thought it would be Isla checking she’d got home safe, or Cat sending something to lighten the mood.
It wasn’t.
Hey. I’ve been thinking about the other night. Fancy a coffee this week? No pressure.
Callum.
Rowan stared at the screen until the words blurred. She read it again. No pressure. That was so him. Say the thing that matters and then immediately soften it, flatten it, give you an exit so you don’t feel trapped.
She put the phone face down on the cushion.
Through the sash windows, the streetlamps on Clarence Drive threw long amber lines across the ceiling. A car passed. Then silence.
She picked the phone back up.
There was no debate this time. No back and forth. No should I, shouldn’t I. The coven had made it clear. Elspeth had made it clear. And Rowan already knew, had known since Lorna said they die, that this was the only way it could go.
But she wasn’t going to do it by text. She wasn’t going to ghost him. He deserved more than that. He deserved to hear it from her, face to face, even if she couldn’t tell him the real reason.
She typed back.
Yeah. Tomorrow? Caffè Parma
His reply came in under a minute.
Perfect. 11?
See you then.
She put the phone on the arm of the sofa and stared at the ceiling.
Tomorrow she would sit across from Callum Ross and end something that had barely begun. And she would have to do it without telling him a single thing that mattered.
The sigil burned.