Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
Making Friends and Influencing People
“I can tell you,” Bracken began but then stopped to look at Mom, as though checking if it was all right to tell everyone, underlining that she was the head of the family.
Mom nodded, though I doubt she knew what he was asking. Like me, she saw how he was changing the tone of the room.
“Centuries ago, a demonic grimoire was created and shared with a Corey, the first of our sorcerers. That demon trained a chosen wicche every generation or so, sharing the secrets of sorcery with them.”
The crowd was glued to his every word.
“That demon was destroyed,” he told them.
“By Uncle Bracken,” Mom added.
He bowed his head in acknowledgment before continuing. “Unfortunately, my great-niece Calliope, the last Corey sorcerer, obtained a new demon, who was again destroyed.”
“By my daughter,” Mom added.
It was my turn to nod in acknowledgment.
“And the demonic grimoire was destroyed,” Bracken told the group. “Not hidden, not passed down. Destroyed.” He glanced at Mom, Faith, and me. “We pray that puts an end to our family’s involvement with sorcery.”
I didn’t know if others noticed, but I saw the shattered look on Catherine’s face when Bracken said the grimoire was destroyed.
“I hope this puts your minds at ease,” he said, meeting eyes around the room.
“What about the black magic?” Catherine insisted.
I was pleased to see other members of the Panel of Five giving Catherine looks of annoyance at her constant interruptions.
“Ah, yes,” he said, shaking his head a bit. “Sometimes I ramble, though I do believe I shared news that you’d all find important to know.”
That got quite a few heads nodding.
“As to the charge of black magic, I must protest my innocence. I have never in my life resorted to pain and torture to power a spell.” He shrugged, looking uncomfortable.
“Not to put too fine a point on it, I don’t have to.
On the day in question, Catherine was threatening my great-niece Arwyn here. ”
He gestured to me as Catherine shouted, “I did no such thing.”
He continued, “This was the first time I’d seen Catherine in many decades and the first time I’d seen her since I’d learned she’d lied about me to my family about that stolen grimoire.”
“Lies,” she shouted.
He nodded again. “Precisely. Lies. I’m afraid my anger got the best of me, so when I heard her lying to my great-niece, a young woman who has been more family to me than anyone else, I used a truth spell on her.
” He shrugged. “I wasn’t aware this was a spell she couldn’t do and therefore thought was black magic.
” He looked around the room again. “I couldn’t stand for those ugly lies to touch Arwyn. ”
Lydia stood. “Your defense is that this is a spell your own innate magic is able to produce?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“Then you could duplicate it now?” Lydia asked.
“Yes.”
The old woman sitting next to Catherine smirked. “Go ahead then,” she said. “Try it on me.”
I could tell by the way she spoke, she believed there was no chance Bracken was a stronger wicche than she was.
Bracken gave a short bow. “As you wish.” The fingers of one hand flicked at his side. “Tell me, if you can. I don’t recall ever meeting you before. Why do you look at me with such hatred in your eyes?”
The old woman glared for one moment and said, “Because you’re a Corey. I hate Coreys. You’re some of the most powerful wicches in the world and you scare me.”
He tilted his head, listening.
“Catherine’s been telling us stories for more years than I can count about all the evil you people do. That kind of power can blacken hearts, but I wish I had it. I wish I was that powerful.”
Bracken flicked his fingers again. “I think we should stop there.”
The woman’s eyes went wide when she realized everything she’d said out loud.
Bracken’s hand went to his heart. “I apologize. I should have stopped you sooner. I was interested in the answer, but I should have considered the group overhearing it. Please excuse me.”
Catherine stood again. “See? There’s something wrong with him.”
I stood and went to Bracken, taking one of his hands in mine. When he turned his head to look at me, I said, “None of that’s true, you know. You’re perfect and one of the kindest men I’ve ever met.” Damn my hormones; my eyes were filling with tears. “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know you.”
He patted my hand. “Now, now. Don’t cry. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. I can take it.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” I whispered. “It’s too much and has been going on for far too long.”
“You can’t believe this,” Catherine said. “She’s as evil as he is.”
The old woman cut her hand through the air. “Enough. I challenged him and he met the challenge, to my utter humiliation.”
The man at the end of the panel stood. “In the case of Bracken Corey engaging in black magic, how does the Panel rule?”
“Not guilty,” the woman closest to us said.
“Not guilty,” Lydia echoed.
“Not guilty,” the old woman added.
Catherine glared at us and said, “Guilty.”
Howe said, “And I vote not guilty. Four to one. Mr. Corey, you’ve been found not guilty of the charge of engaging in black magic. Thank you for coming today to defend yourself.”
Bracken and I returned to our seats.
“What about her?” Catherine demanded. “We’ve been hearing she’s powerless and deformed since she was a baby. She’s probably a sorcerer!”
She was losing the people sitting in the room. Most were looking away from her or shaking their heads.
“What about what we saw outside?” Catherine screeched. “She summoned orcas to her. That’s not normal.”
Lydia stood again. “You cannot throw around accusations like this with no proof.”
Catherine opened her mouth, but Mom stood, commanding the attention of the room. “If I might be allowed to speak on this?”
Howe looked at the Panel of Five and all but Catherine nodded.
“Thank you,” Mom said. “Some of you were probably here when my mother, Mary Corey, served on the Panel. Rumors started here in the Wicches’ Council about my sister Bridget and her husband Michael.
For those of you who’ve been around long enough to remember those rumors, none of them were true.
Some of you probably know Bridget’s daughter, Sam Quinn. ”
There were a lot of shared looks and whispers at that.
“The three of them were a happy and loving little family until my sister, Abigail, who was, unbeknownst to us, a sorcerer, targeted them. If you heard rumors about Bridget, they came from Abigail, who was jealous of her much stronger sister. Michael was killed. He didn’t leave my sister.
She took her little girl and ran, trying to keep them safe from Abigail.
Those of you who know Sam probably know she ended up alone in San Francisco when she was seventeen.
That was when Abigail had finally tracked them down and killed her own sister. ”
More heated whispers.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked. It was a message from Dave. Hoping, I tapped the screen.
“We didn’t learn this until quite recently,” Mom continued.
“We had no idea Abigail was a sorcerer. We mourned the loss of Bridget and Samantha, hoping they’d someday return to us.
What my mother knew twenty-five years ago was that ugly rumors spread throughout this group, and my sister and niece disappeared.
When rumors started about myself and my daughter, my mother left this group, worried whatever had happened to Bridget and Sam would be repeated with Arwyn and me. ”
An old woman, probably older than Gran, said, “But Mary was so strong. She could have kept you safe.”
Mom shook her head. “She couldn’t keep Bridget safe.” She glanced over at me and said, “My daughter is unique and my mother couldn’t take any chances.” She looked at me again and seemed to be waiting for approval. At my smile, she said, “My daughter is a Cassandra wicche.”
There were more than whispers at that news. All eyes in the room were on me, assessing me, wondering at the truth of that statement.
“My mother couldn’t take the chance. As you all know, Cassandras are very rare and never live past childhood. They are reviled and hunted by those who want their secrets to stay hidden. We protected Arwyn from the wicching world, keeping her hidden even from members of our own family.”
Mom gave her head a little shake. “To this day, we have many in the Corey coven who have no idea who Arwyn really is. I made it my mission when I was given an oracular dream from the Goddess about Arwyn’s birth to learn everything I could about Cassandras, and what I found terrified me.
I needed my daughter to survive this enormous gift, so we hid her. ”
“Prove it!” someone in the back shouted. I’d clocked her earlier as an ally of Catherine’s. “What am I thinking right now?”
I stood and moved to Mom’s side. “The voices were cacophonous and horrible as a child. I erected walls in my mind to keep them out. Now I usually only hear thoughts when I’m touching someone.
” I held up my gloved hands. “Which is why I keep most of my skin covered at all times.” I stared into her eyes and found that one hole in my armor.
“But since you asked, I appreciate that you think I’m stunning and I agree that the Council members seem to be seeing the truth about Catherine. ”
The woman slammed her fist down on her table. “I wasn’t thinking any of that!”
I gave her a Bracken-worthy bow and said, “Of course not. Sorry for my mistake.” Judging by all the smirks around the room, they didn’t believe her and they didn’t like her.
I looked up at the Panel of Five. “I don’t normally do party tricks, but if someone would like me to read them, I can.”
Howe, the male wicche on the far end, lifted a hand. “Can you tell me how my daughter is doing? She and her boyfriend moved away and I worry, as any overprotective father would.” He smiled, but I could see he truly was uneasy about her.
I walked across the room to him.
Mom followed me. A few people sitting at nearby tables looked concerned that two of us were approaching the Council’s leadership.
Mom explained, “I’m not leaving my daughter unprotected when she drops into a vision.”
“Do you have something she’s touched?” I asked Howe.
He thought a moment, then took his wallet from his pocket, pulling out a small photo and sliding it across the table toward me. It looked like her high school graduation portrait.
“She touched this?” I asked.
He turned the photo over so I could see the handwriting on the back.
“Perfect.” I pulled off a glove and touched a finger to the writing.
“Are you stupid? I told you what to wear tonight, what to say.” He stalks away and comes back, his face red, veins popping on his forehead. “I told you this was an important dinner. I need this promotion.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “His wife asked me what I did.”
His hand shoots out so fast, she doesn’t see it coming this time. Her head snaps back as pain explodes. Her hand goes out to clutch the chair beside her. Her vision is going dark, but she doesn’t want to fall. He gets so angry when she behaves like a baby.
“You couldn’t say paralegal and drop it?” he shouts in her face.
“I’m not a para—”
Smack. That time, her knees buckle, but she remains on her feet.
“You had to brag about passing the bar, didn’t you. Had to try to make me look bad in front of my boss.” He shakes his head in disgust. “I asked you to do one thing for me and you had to make it all about yourself—”