Chapter 9

Fortunately for Fiona, the elder witches of her coven were already at the home place for lunch and some Irish crocheting. They held a session like this a few times a year, hoping to keep alive the lace-making practice passed down from their ancestors. As usual, they had pressed a few of the younger members into joining them, so Fiona only had to make a few calls from the antique store in order to summon a full coven meeting immediately instead of tonight as Sarah had planned.

They all needed to see the papers from the armoire as soon as possible.

Others were arriving as she pulled her van to a stop in the driveway. Fiona lifted a plastic garbage sack from the floorboard and grabbed the new pages from the family’s book of magic.

Eva Grace stepped out of her smart sporty convertible.

Brenna, in paint-splattered T-shirt and jeans, stood on the front steps with her gray, feline familiar, Tasmin nearby. An illustrator working on a children’s book, Brenna had been painting in her third-floor studio when Fiona called.

Cousin Maggie Mills, an avid lace-maker who had also been at the home place, stood by the front door. She clutched the hand of her daughter, three-year-old Rose.

The other cousin of their generation, Lauren Mayfield, worked at Siren’s Call. She appeared from Eva Grace’s passenger seat, auburn hair gleaming and ripe figure barely contained in a cherry-red sundress.

“What have you found?” Maggie demanded as the young witches assembled on the front porch.

Fiona shot Maggie’s red-haired little girl a concerned glance. “We should talk about it inside with the others.”

“But we’re the five in danger,” Maggie protested.

Rose looked up at her with round, green eyes full of concern. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

Perhaps because she was the mother of a budding young witch of the next generation, Maggie was always borderline hysterical when the coven discovered a development in their quest to break their family curse. Just weeks ago, the demon talked Maggie into trading access to their family for immunity from the curse. As a consequence, the demon had almost killed Brenna in order to absorb her powerful magic. The coven learned the demon could not make promises on behalf of the Woman in White. They were still trying to figure out the relationship between the two beings.

Brenna knelt in front of Rose and summoned Tasmin. “Take the cat inside and play,” she told the little girl. The gray tabby rubbed against the youngster’s chubby legs. Giggling, Rose followed the cat into the house.

Brenna stood and gripped Maggie by both shoulders. “You need to calm down.”

The young mother’s auburn ponytail swung side to side as she shook her head. “I don’t know how you can say that when the days are just clicking by, and we’re waiting for the next awful thing to happen.”

“We’re not just waiting,” Fiona said and quickly updated Maggie and Lauren about the crows at the cemetery and last evening’s encounter with the ghost at Siren’s Call. “Minnie warned me that she’s hiding because it’s not safe in New Mourne. That must mean the Woman in White or the demon will strike again soon.”

Lauren’s green eyes held faint accusation. “I heard you brought in a Hollywood producer for last night’s séance.”

Despite her own misgivings about Bailey, Brenna quickly jumped to Fiona’s defense. “It wasn’t a séance, and Fiona did nothing that she’s not done on her webcast dozens of times.”

Lauren and Maggie still looked disapproving.

“I hear the producer’s hot.” Lauren flipped her hair off her shoulder with a languid motion that Fiona suspected men would find sexy. Fiona wondered, as she often did, what it would be like to have such ease with her sexuality. Thinking of Bailey’s lips on her own, she wondered how she had measured up to the other women he had probably kissed. She wasn’t experienced enough to be sure of herself. Today, he hadn’t seemed particularly interested in anything about her but the show he was proposing. Maybe she had failed.

Eva Grace interrupted her thoughts. “We’re here to learn what Fiona found today. We can talk about Hollywood producers later. Let’s go inside.”

The others sat in the dining room to the left of the broad central hall where Rose was using a string to tantalize Tasmin. With their crochet supplies laid to the side, the witches sat at the long table where many generations of the Connelly coven had met, plotted, planned, and eaten. The ancient wood gleamed, complemented by new chairs that Marcus had designed last year. With arching backs and simple carving, the chairs displayed his extraordinary talent and harmonized new with old.

Fiona loved this room, the stone fireplace and the wall shared with the kitchen that was the old timber exterior of the first Connelly cabin built here. Most of all, she loved everyone gathered at the table.

Sarah, as coven leader, and her older twin sisters, Frances and Doris, known as the elder aunts, sat at the head of the table. Doris still had a small bandage on her neck from surgery she’d had to repair her carotid artery after an encounter with the demon. Both Doris and Frances had white hair teased into the helmets favored by many Southern matrons in their seventies, quite a contrast to Sarah’s sleek, hippie-like braid. They all shared the Connelly green eyes.

The daughters of the three women—Delia, Estelle, and Diane—sat nearby. The younger witches took their customary places, with Brenna at the foot of the table, facing Sarah. Only Fiona remained standing.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked her.

Fiona placed the papers found this morning on the table. “More pages from The Connelly Book of Magic.”

A ripple of energy moved around the room, and Fiona saw one of the house’s ghosts, an elderly woman she had always called Granny, peep out from the kitchen door. Granny looked alarmed.

Without a word, Delia got up and retrieved the family book from the sideboard where it was placed after this morning’s discussion. She laid it on the table beside the new papers and looked at Sarah. “The pages look authentic.”

“And what do they tell us?” Sarah asked Fiona. “I’m sure you’ve read them.”

“First let me tell you how I found the pages.” Fiona related what happened with the armoire, and told them about the scratched Connelly name inside, the papers Dagen had found, and finally, the snake.

“I brought the snake,” Fiona said, gesturing toward the garbage bag she had placed on the hearth.

“We’ll burn it in the clearing,” Sarah said, referring a sacred place in the woods where the coven conducted rituals and celebrated holidays.

Doris said, “Is Dagen all right?”

Fiona nodded. “I talked to his wife on the way here. Because help came so soon, he will quickly recover.”

“I can take him a poultice,” Eva Grace murmured, ever the healer.

Frances, also an avid gardener, nodded. “Maybe a tea. Tulip poplar root, ground with dried sunflowers and starry campion.”

Diane suggested a spell for the antique shop that would drive off any other snakes that had slithered in and burning sage to clear bad spirits. Aunt Doris disagreed on the exact wording of the spell.

Fiona could see the meeting dissolving into the chatty mess of so many others in the past. She tapped on the table, and everyone looked at her. “Dagen will be fine. What we need to focus on is the snake appeared when I touched the armoire.” She told them about the snake with the man’s head.

Doris’s hand rose to the bandage on her neck.

The door to the kitchen opened and slammed shut. Fiona turned, expecting to see Granny race to the hall and the staircase. Instead, the apparition was a blur she didn’t recognize. That was strange.

Rose ran in, crying for her mother. Tasmin streaked past her and jumped into Brenna’s lap.

Maggie soothed her daughter and Brenna stroked her cat, but before the hubbub could diminish, The Connelly Book of Magic’s pages turned, and the new papers lifted and fluttered into place in the middle of the book.

No one moved for several seconds. Fiona reached for the loose papers, thinking she would see how they matched the surrounding pages. A light flashed, and the book incorporated them.

In the ensuing silence, Sarah cleared her throat. “I think that answers any doubt about where the pages belong.”

“Can we be sure it’s not the demon at work?” Maggie whispered, her arms tightening around Rose.

“There is no demon in this house,” Sarah stated.

“But he burned down your studio,” Brenna pointed out, referring to a devastating fire that had destroyed Sarah and Marcus’s work area near the house just weeks ago.

Sarah stood. “There is no demon here.” Thunder rumbled as she spoke.

Fiona felt the strong wills of her grandmother and Brenna ready to battle. The old generation continually resisted the power of the new.

Candles on the mantel lit and blew out and the lace curtains over the window seat billowed.

Little Rose’s eyes were once more wide and frightened.

Again, Fiona tried to bring the meeting to order. “Do you want to hear what these pages reveal?”

There were nods all around, and Doris suggested Rose should leave.

Maggie’s lips tightened. “This is her problem and her family, too.”

Sarah agreed. “You young ones have said we hide too much from you about the curse. Let the child stay.”

Fiona sat and pulled the magic book toward her. “The new pages are dated in the 1880s. They’re about an ancestor of ours named Albert.”

“Oh, my,” Frances murmured.

Fiona continued, “Apparently Albert inherited a little magical ability, but was always jealous that the women in the family possessed the true gifts.”

Frances turned to her twin sister. “Do you remember Grandmother telling us about him? He was a bad one who turned to black magic.”

“I never knew the males in our family had magic.” Fiona looked at Maggie, who was descended from a male relative. “Does Uncle Van have magic? Or your brother Sully?”

“Not unless you count their abilities to coax cows to give milk,” Maggie retorted. She hugged Rose, who had fallen asleep on her lap. “You’re not suggesting that Dad or Sully have something to do with—”

“No, Albert was a strange one, and had no children.” Doris leaned forward, brow furrowing. “If I remember correctly, he made sacrifices of the family cats.”

Tasmin hissed from Brenna’s lap.

“Albert sounds like a serial killer in the making,” Eva Grace commented, her face pale.

Sarah added, “He probably used the energy from the sacrifices for his evil spells. He must have known the magic worked better if the animal was beloved.”

“According to these pages,” Fiona said. “Albert made a deal with a demon so he could steal another’s magic.”

“Was it our demon?” Brenna demanded.

“Do you think there are two?” Fiona answered and looked back at the book. “It says here that Albert went after a faerie instead of a Connelly witch.”

“That must have pissed off the demon,” Brenna said with a faint smile, no doubt remembering when the demon came after her.

Sarah turned to her elder sisters. “Do you remember hearing that Albert messed with the fae? That’s very bad business.”

Frances shook her head. Doris looked stricken. “That would be terrible.”

Fiona turned a page of the book. “He ended up killing the young faerie. Her sister retaliated.”

“Willow,” Sarah muttered in a hushed voice. “That must have been Willow’s sister.”

Everyone stared at her.

She continued, “Albert killed Shivon Scanlan, and Willow’s magic easily defeated Albert and the demon that used him. Then Willow sealed Albert’s spirit in a cave in The Valley of Shadows.”

Fiona swallowed hard. Her grandmother had just recounted most of what was in the book. “How did you know that?”

Sarah rubbed her forehead, looking weary. “I think it’s the Remember-Not spell wearing off. Every time we find missing pages from this book, memories come back. I must have read or been told this story years ago. Then the coven used the spell to wipe it away.” Her gaze went around the table. “As we’ve told you, that spell was used for generations to help the family cope with the curse.”

“Just don’t use it on us,” Brenna gritted out, her cheeks growing hot. “Not remembering has not helped us at all.”

Fiona turned the book around and slanted it so that everyone could see. “The last of the new pages has a map to The Valley of Shadows.”

Delia traced the map’s markings for New Mourne, the Connelly farm, and the old cemetery. “It’s the land near Van’s farm. We were talking about it this morning.”

“Is this why the land there is so desolate?” Fiona asked.

“The cave was sealed by fae magic,” Sarah said sharply. “And we were all told to stay away from that whole wretched stretch of land. We told all of you to do so as well.”

“My brother and I went there anyway,” Maggie admitted. “It was kind of like the neighborhood haunted house, you know; we couldn’t resist. But we never saw a cave.”

Lauren looked at her in surprise. She and Maggie had played together often as children. “You never took me there.”

“Because you’d have said it was yucky,” Maggie retorted.

“I can’t believe Van didn’t stop you,” Frances said.

Maggie smiled. “Trust me, he did when he caught us, but it was just too tempting to stay away. We loved the silence. There were never any crickets or frogs, no birds or squirrels, just complete silence.”

“I’m surprised at you, Maggie,” Sarah said. “I never would have thought you’d so blatantly disobey coven orders.” She glanced at Brenna. “I guess it’s a good thing that Brenna didn’t discover it. She might have built a bonfire at Samhain and loosed the hounds of Hell.”

Brenna grinned and rolled her eyes. “Pity I didn’t think of it.”

“Kids are always braver than adults,” Maggie said. “You don’t truly understand fear until you’re responsible for the life of another.” She glanced at her daughter again. “If Rose ever sneaks down there, I’ll lock her in her room.”

“So what does this have to do with the curse?” Eva Grace asked, frowning at the map.

“Obviously, we have to find the cave,” Fiona said.

Comments rang out around the table, but Sarah’s commanding voice drowned everyone else out. “Absolutely not. We will not look for that cave. Those crows were warning you away, Fiona. And these pages are another warning to stay away from that place of death.”

“But why?” Brenna asked. “Fiona’s been running down there every morning for a long time, and nothing happened before the crows appeared. Perhaps they and the pages are signs that we should look in that direction in order to break the curse.”

Before more bickering between Brenna and Sarah could break out, Fiona said, “I wonder why these pages were in an old armoire.”

Doris said, “Our mother sold the furniture in our sister Rose’s bedroom after the Woman in White killed her. I seem to remember a beautiful old wardrobe that had been in the family a long time.”

Mention of their sister taken as tribute by the Woman in White caused all three elders to sag visibly. Without speaking, they linked hands.

“Getting rid of the furniture was part of Remember-Not,” Sarah said. “It was the same when my own daughter was taken.” Tears swam in her eyes as she looked at Eva Grace. “I couldn’t bear to think of your dear mother, and I had to focus on raising you. It seemed imperative to forget. That’s why I put all of Celia’s things down in the barn.”

“And in her belongings in the barn was where I found other pages of the family book,” Brenna said. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

“We still don’t know what Albert has to do with the curse,” Fiona said.

“Obviously it was a time of tribute when he ran amuck,” her mother said. “Let’s look in the book and see when the next young Connelly witch died.”

They found it was only months after Albert’s misadventures that a young witch named Cornelia was taken. Official word was she was victim of a rattlesnake bite.

“Now that is strange, considering what happened today,” Fiona said.

“And we all know it was no snake. Just the work of the Woman in White,” Brenna added.

Eva Grace sighed. “So the demon was out ahead of the Woman, trolling for trouble in our family the same as he’s been doing lately. Only he ran into Willow first.”

A sob wrenched out of Maggie. “Then one of us died.”

“Everything ties back to the Woman in White,” Brenna said. “We’ve got to find out what happened to her and why she takes it out on our family.”

“Maybe there are some answers in that cave,” Fiona said.

Sarah stood again. “Didn’t you just hear what we said? Please stay away from that place.”

Even Delia looked doubtful. “I’m not sure it’s the best decision to go taunting the demon. That’s what Celia and I did, and the Woman took my sister right away.” She reached out for Fiona’s hand. “Please, promise me you’ll let this one go. There have to be other clues to breaking the curse. This involves the fae, so it’s especially dangerous.”

Fiona protested, “I’m the one who found these pages. They practically came to me. I mean, why was I the one that Dagen called? He knows all of you. It seems like a sign to me, something that must be explored. We have to look at every avenue until we find the Woman in White’s story.”

“I agree,” Brenna said. “All we know about her now is that she was probably the daughter of a missionary and fell in love with a Cherokee brave. She died near the waterfall where all the Connelly witches are taken.”

Fiona tapped her chin in thought. “I wonder what it all has to do with the cave where Albert is sealed.”

“You need to stay away from The Valley of Shadows,” Sarah repeated. “Promise me, Fiona?”

As she was, always and forever, the good child, the obedient one, Fiona almost gave in. Then temper rose in her. Sick and tired of behaving herself, Fiona stood and faced her grandmother. “I won’t promise. I’m not going to stay away from a place we might finally find our answers.”

Without waiting to see the coven’s reaction, Fiona left the house.

Though she heard Brenna and Eva Grace calling for her, she ran out to her van and turned around in the graveled driveway to hurry away in a cloud of dust. Horns blared as she pulled onto the highway without stopping.

“I don’t think it will improve the situation or your temper if you hurt someone else by driving carelessly,” a voice said from the passenger’s seat.

Fiona glanced over to see her Aunt Celia in the seat beside her. It was disconcerting, seeing the person who looked so much like her own mother, a ghost that Fiona had been trying to reach for years. She swerved into a neighbor’s driveway and parked the van.

Breathing hard, she turned to find her aunt still occupying the passenger’s seat. “You were at the house,” Fiona accused. “With Granny.”

Celia nodded. “I was trying to keep her calm. The poor old thing worries about all of you.”

“But why have I never seen you before?”

“Because the time wasn’t right until now. I’m finally strong enough to help you.”

“How?”

“By becoming your spirit guide.”

“All these years of talking with ghosts and now I get a spirit guide?” Fiona sighed. “What can you do for me?”

“I can show you how to find the cave in The Valley of Shadows. We can start saving Connelly witches there.”