Aiden did at least take pity on us unfit souls, stopping twice so that we could catch our breaths and grab some water. He even resisted teasing us, though the amusement crinkling the corners of his bright eyes suggested it might have been a hard task.
The scrub and trees became denser the farther we moved away from any sort of habitation. Unlike the forests around Castle Rock, this area didn’t appear to have much in the way of old mines or tailings. There were animals here though, if the occasional rustling of unseen creatures scurrying away from our presence through the undergrowth was anything to go by. For the most part, though, the area was so quiet that I could clearly hear the soft bubble of a creek some distance away.
I was just about to call for yet another break when the path started to level off. The trees around us were thick and tall, and shut out much of the wind as well as the light, leaving the path in deep shadow.
But shadows weren’t the only things here.
There was also magic.
Wild magic.
A force that not only felt feminine, but also had an odd sort of cognizance.
Both had been evident when I’d first called to the wild magic for help in dealing with Waverley—the vampire who’d tried to drain me and who’d left me with a neck scar to forever remind me of my brush with death—but not in the force I’d used to finally kill him. There’d just been power. Mind-blowing, incredible power.
Which made me wonder if we were, in fact, dealing with a second wellspring—one that was far younger in creation than the one in O’Connor territory.
It’d be a rare occurrence, Belle said. But it’s certainly not beyond the realm of possibility.
If this reservation has a second wellspring, then we need to call in the RWA, even if the council won’t. My mental tone was grim. Our magic will never be enough to protect two such forces, especially if this second one is still developing.
Yes, although I can’t believe that they haven’t pressed the matter of having a witch on the reservation, given they are aware of the unguarded nature of the first wellspring.
Except that, according to Anna, Gabe is still here, and his magic is protecting the place.
Aiden doesn’t believe that’s possible, she said. And I tend to agree.
So did I. There was no way known Gabe could have killed his wife and escaped the notice—and the noses—of three werewolf packs for well over a year now. Not even if he’d called upon every ounce of magical skill in his arsenal.
We continued to follow the weaving path through the trees, and the sting of magic got stronger with every step. Whether or not this wellspring was young, it was giving every indication it would end up being as powerful as the other.
From up ahead came glimmers of sunlight, suggesting we were finally nearing the clearing in which Aiden’s sister had been murdered. My gaze fell to his back, and though there was no outward tension evident in the set of his shoulders, it was nevertheless visible in his aura. In the dark swirl of grief and the flashes of red that indicated heartbreak.
I clenched my fingers against the desire to reach out and comfort him. A touch, no matter how well-meaning, wouldn’t ease his pain. Especially when that touch came from someone who was still, in many respects, a stranger, and a witch besides.
We reached the edge of the clearing and stopped. It wasn’t very large, but it was strewn with rocks and other debris. Directly opposite us was a sharp cliff face—the rubble scattered around the clearing had obviously come from a long-ago landslip—and at the base of this was an ankle-deep rock basin. Water bubbled up close to the cliff’s face, lapped over the edge of the basin, and then wound its way down the gentle slope, where it would no doubt join forces with the stream we’d heard but hadn’t seen further down the mountain.
That tiny well was also the source of the wild magic; the air shimmered with the force of it, and the hairs on my arms stood on end. And with it came the thick sense of presence—of awareness—that I’d felt both in the forest above Castle Rock, and in the cemetery when it had angrily snatched my spell and twisted it into something so much more powerful.
Whatever the awareness was—however it had come to be a part of the wild magic—this was where it had been born.
Or, perhaps, died.
Because given the overtly feminine feel to the sentience, I very much suspected that its source was none other than Aiden’s murdered sister.
Chapter Five
You can’t infuse someone’s soul into wild magic, Belle said. You simply can’t.
That we know of, I replied. But it’s not like we’ve had anything more than rudimentary learning when it comes to the stuff.
True. She frowned and studied the small clearing. There is something else here, though.
I studied the clearing for a moment, but couldn’t feel anything more than the wild magic. Like what?
If I knew, I’d say.
Have you asked your guides if they’re sensing anything other than the wild magic?
Yes.
And?
They can’t even get into the clearing. Something is not only blocking them from doing so, but also preventing them from seeing what might lie within this place.
It takes pretty powerful magic to do something like that, Belle. I hesitated. Or is the wild magic itself blocking them?
They were able to enter the area holding the original wellspring easily enough, so it’s not that.
Meaning Gabe must have placed a spell around the area. Odd that neither of us sensed it.
Not really. Not given our less than stellar capabilities and the fact he’s a vetted, RWA approved witch.
Maybe, but if the spells protecting this place are active, it means he is still alive. Spells only very rarely outlasted the death of their creator.
Unless he’s somehow leashed it to the wild magic and—if you’re right about the sentience we’re sensing—Kate’s presence here.
“I’ve a sudden feeling you ladies are having a very private conversation.” Aiden’s tone was edged with annoyance. “And while I appreciate you’re used to communicating that way, I’d really like to be included in all conversations relating to this clearing and the events that went on here.”
“Sorry.” I wrinkled my nose. “We were just discussing the fact that there’s something in this clearing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘something.’”
“We can’t as yet.” I hesitated. “Where, exactly, was your sister killed?”
Though his expression didn’t change, his grief surged, spilling darkness across his aura. “Over near the spring’s source.”
Which also happened to be the wellspring’s source. I doubted that was a coincidence.
I followed him into the clearing, and with every step the caress of wild magic grew stronger, until my entire body thrummed with its power. But there was nothing threatening in its touch; in fact, it seemed oddly welcoming.
It was almost as if it had been waiting for us.
Waiting for you perhaps, Belle commented. I can certainly feel the wild magic, but there’s no sense of welcome within it.
I frowned. But you can sense its awareness, can’t you?
Yes, but there’s nothing more distinct than that, she said. You merged with the wild magic to defeat that vampire. Maybe it created a permanent connection. Maybe that’s why your eyes are now ringed with silver.
My eyes had been—up until very recently—pure emerald green rather than the silvery-gray of a full-blooded witch. It was a major reason why few people questioned my carefully reconstructed background.
If such a connection was even remotely possible, don’t you think the High Council would be doing more than simply guarding the wellsprings?
Well, yes, but just because it hasn’t happened before doesn’t mean it’s imposs— The rest of her sentence was cut off by a loud gasp.
I immediately swung around. I couldn’t see anything threatening, and her thoughts showed no sign of fear. Just… surprise.
I
frowned, definitely not understanding the latter. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a ghost here.”
“Whose?” Aiden’s voice was harsh and yet edged with trepidation. “Kate’s?”
“No.” Belle hesitated. “It’s male. I suspect it might be Gabe.”
“How is that even possible when his remains have never been found?” Aiden all but growled. “Aren’t ghosts pinned to the area in which they died, or have I got the facts wrong?”
“You haven’t,” I said, “Which means either his body is well hidden or something stranger is going on.”
“There is no way known his fucking body could have gone undiscovered for over a year. Not here; not within the Marin compound—or any other one, for that matter.” He stopped, and chagrin touched his expression. He took a deep breath and then added, “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”
This time I didn’t resist the urge to touch him, but his arm felt like steel under my fingertips. “We understand, Aiden, probably more than anyone outside your family ever could.”
He placed his free hand over mine, squeezed it lightly, and then released me. “Is there any way we could talk to his ghost, and uncover what really happened in this place?”
And why he killed my sister.... He didn’t actually say that, but the words nevertheless hung in the air.
“Yes,” Belle said. “But it could be a dangerous thing to do.”
“Why?”
“Because this clearing isn’t only a tributary source for the creek,” I said. “It’s also the location of another wellspring.”
His gaze swept the area before coming back to mine. “I can’t feel anything.”
“You wouldn’t, given you’re not sensitive to magic. But it’s here, and while it’s nowhere near as powerful as the wellspring within the O’Connor compound, it’s still young and growing.”
“Which doesn’t explain why it would be dangerous to speak to Gabe’s ghost, given that’s a psychic skill rather than magical,” he said. “And ghosts can’t hurt the living, can they?”
“That,” Belle said gravely, “not only depends on the ghost, but also on what else might be here.”
“So do a protection circle or whatever else it is witches do in these situations.” He hesitated. “You are capable of that, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” It was pointless saying anything else, given my oft-expressed desire to place such protection around the original wellspring. “But using any sort of magic within the presence of wild magic is dangerous. You saw what happened to my spell in the cemetery.”
“We could just use the stones,” Belle said. “If we’re both inside the circle, you can react if anything goes ass-up.”
I hesitated, and then nodded. Hopefully, things wouldn’t go awry, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Especially when we were dealing with the ghost of a witch and very possibly the wife he’d murdered.
Belle handed me the pack, and then walked over to the spring. I followed, but she stopped in front of the small well and studied the ground. After a couple of seconds, she moved over to the left edge of the spring, close to the cliff face. “Whatever happened in this place to Gabe, it happened here.”
Aiden frowned. “We found Kate’s body on the other side of the well.”
“Which means,” I said, “it’s very possible he did include the wild magic in whatever spells he raised in this place.”
Belle nodded in agreement and sat cross-legged on the ground. “I’ll prepare to contact him. You raise the shield.”
“What about me?” Aiden said. “What do you want me to do?”
I undid the backpack and fished around for the small silk bag that contained my spell stones. “There’s nothing you can do, I’m afraid.”
“Other than making sure neither of us gets attacked by whatever wild things might inhabit this area,” Belle added.
Aiden smiled, though it didn’t really lift the tension in him. “The only wild things in these parts are rabbits and the occasional kangaroo. Neither is particularly dangerous.” He hesitated. “Is it possible to repeat what you did in the rotunda, so that I could record it?”
“I can certainly ask questions and, under normal circumstances, Belle can reply for the spirit.” I opened the silk bag and poured the stones into my hand. These particular ones were rough-cut clear quartz, which were a whole lot cheaper than diamonds and yet had very similar properties. “But neither of us know what sort of spell restrictions Gabe might have placed around this area, so you may or may not be able to hear us once we get in contact with him.”
“Let’s hope that’s not the case, because I’m going to need recorded evidence to take to the council.”
Because they wouldn’t believe him without it, obviously. And part of me couldn’t help wondering if that would have changed if we’d been proper RWA witches.
“Whatever happens, do not approach the circle or attempt to help either of us until we say otherwise.”
“Sure, but why would I even need to?” he asked. “You’ve done this sort of stuff hundreds of times, haven’t you?”
“Yes, but this time we’re dealing with the ghost of a witch who may or may not take over Belle’s body. And if that’s the case, she might need to pull on my energy to maintain physical status quo.”
He frowned. “Why? And how is something like that even possible?”
“She’s my familiar, remember.” I started placing the stones into position. “And while a familiar is tasked with providing additional physical strength for their witch whenever necessary, Belle’s also a witch, and that means the ability to do so goes both ways.”
But only thanks to the strength of our connection and friendship, Belle commented.
Aiden’s expression remained confused. “That still doesn’t explain why it might be necessary.”
“Contacting spirits can be physically demanding,” Belle said. “Which is why true spirit talkers often restrict the time they spend with the other plane.”
Not to mention the fact that some spirits were so strong they could not only inhabit the body of the talker, but try to oust the witch’s own spirit and permanently take over their body. That was one of the reasons why we had so many protections around our reading room at the café, and why only using spell stones in this instance might be dangerous. We had no idea what Gabe’s state of mind had been when he’d killed his wife. If grief had tipped him over the edge, then he would have carried that into the afterlife, and who knew what madness he might attempt once we were in contact with him.
I can feel him, Belle said. He’s near, and waiting. I don’t think he’s crazy, though his grief is so black it’s a cloud that surrounds him.
Which means his grief could be preventing you from seeing his madness.
True. She paused. He’s also a very strong spirit. I suspect he’ll be one of those who takes over.
If you have any trouble getting him out, scream mentally. No matter how strong Gabe might be, even he couldn’t erase my link with her. We knew that from experience.
I will. Loudly.
Good.
I positioned the last stone, then stepped inside the circle, sat down opposite Belle, and inched close enough that our knees touched. With our energies so connected, I glanced at Aiden. “Start recording once Belle starts speaking, not before.”
He nodded and got out his phone. I lit some sage to cleanse the area, and then started the spell, carefully layering in as many protection threads as I could. With that done, I attached the spell to each of the stones, and activated it. The air thrummed with its power, and, once again, it was far stronger than I’d intended or even should have been capable of. And that suggested the wild magic had threaded its way into the spell even if I’d had no sense of it. I took a deep breath to wash away the vestiges of nervousness, and held my hands out to Belle.
We’d done this many times over the years. There was nothing to fear except fear itself.
And maybe a crazy witch with far more p
ower than either of us.
She placed her fingers in mine and then closed her eyes. While some spirit talkers used the spirit’s personal items to contact them, or objects such an Ouija board or even a spirit pendulum to provide simple answers, Belle had no need. The High Council might not hold psychic skills in high regard, but she was one of the strongest spirit talkers out there—or so my mother had said, in a moment of rare kindness toward Belle.
Though our hands were only lightly touching, I nevertheless felt the moment she silently began summoning Gabe’s spirit.
He didn’t just answer. He entered her body and seized control.
“You took your time coming here, young Elizabeth.”
Though the voice was Belle’s, the rhythm of her words and the pronunciation was not.
“It’s not my task or duty to come here,” I said. “I’m not the reservation witch.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because thanks to your actions in this clearing, the reservation council has banned all witches. Belle and I are only here because we’re trinket sellers with a little magic capability and knowledge, nothing more.”
“Oh, you are both more than mere trinket sellers, even if you do not hold the power of bluebloods.” He paused, and Belle’s frown deepened. “Why would the council risk such a ban? Surely they know the danger an unprotected wellspring represents.”
“Why did you murder your wife?” I countered. “There was no justification—”
“I did not murder her!” The words exploded from Belle. “How dare you—”
“Your prints were on the knife,” I cut in. “Yours, not hers. That is pretty clear evidence in anyone’s book.”
“Of course my prints were on it. It was my athame.”
“Which you shoved through her heart in the middle of a pentagram.”
“Not to murder her!”
There was so much anger and grief in those four words that I rocked back slightly. “Then tell me what did happen.”
Belle took a deep breath then released it. It was a shuddering sound of sorrow. “She was dying—”
“From leukemia.” One that had been detected far too late for the treatments to be of any use.