JONAH
Minerva never came back to the coven house. I long to say goodbye. I hope it’s only for a short time and not forever, but she is unreadable. Perhaps because we spent most of our time together reading each other’s thoughts, we never learned to read other signs. I miss her in my head.
As the carriage rolls out of Windsor, I wait for the nausea to return. I’m prepared to jump out and run back to her, but I feel no discomfort. We are separate.
It should make me happy to have my own life back, but I’ve never been more miserable in my life.
“It’s good of you to see us home, Mr. Allen,” Ruth says from across the carriage where she has one arm wrapped around June’s shoulders.
“Of course.” My own future is so uncertain; at least I can see these witches safe.
“It’s all rather strange.” Ruth’s shoulders sag and she stares out the window.
I pull my attention from Minerva. “What do you mean, madam?”
“The last year is broken in my memory. I clearly remember some moments, and others are vague and full of holes.” She looks at June. “Is it the same for you, June?”
June has pulled her magic back under control. She’s actually quite masterful at holding what wishes to be free at bay. “I have some gaps, but not many. I remember when Miss Honeywell first came to the coven house, but that day is foggy, as if I watched from far away.”
“You looked far away,” I say. “All the joy had gone from you, and I thought you had taken a drought of something to dull senses.”
“I think those spells were to keep me from realizing my magic was bound. I have an odd memory of moving a chair with a spell. I’d worked on it for a long time. I think the chair may have sprouted a leaf.” June shakes her head and squints as if willing the memory to come back. “Perhaps it was a dream. The leaf was on a branch. Fern walked in, and she was furious. Letty slapped my face.” She rubs her cheek as if the incident were just happening.
“Anything else?” I lean forward. It’s good for the witches to sort through the events as best they can. Perhaps they can fill in gaps for each other.
“After that, everything is hazy and warped. I can’t tell what’s real. Once I came to your home, the clouds lifted. I don’t think Fern liked that.” June wrapped her arms around herself.
Ruth pursed her lips. “She didn’t want you to go. We argued over it. I thought you were a witch with poor training and little magic. I’m sorry, June. I wish I had protected you. I wish I had protected us all.”
“Do you remember when Orin first came to Maidstone, madam?” Maybe starting from the beginning will help.
Ruth’s gaze is far away. “He came with Letty. She’d traveled away from the coven for a year and returned touting his greatness. He’d been charming, and we all enjoyed his company. Patricia and Fern both fawned on him as if they were girls courting the same suitor.”
I’m amazed that one man could trick an entire coven. “Do you think he’d bespelled them?”
“Looking back, I think he did. I also think the demon inside him was struggling to keep Orin alive after inhabiting him for so long. I don’t know when exactly the other creatures were called forth to use Fern and Letty. Perhaps he’d already defiled Letty when she brought him. That kind of possession is not possible without consent. I know the demon Forrester used my mind to hold his essence several times. He used Patricia most often, so that Orin could rest. But to have a living demon inside her like Fern did, and like I suspect Letty does, they would have had to agree. Darkness must have seduced them to it.” Ruth shudders.
“What will happen to Letty?” June’s voice quivers with fear and sorrow.
I draw a deep breath. “The Windsor coven will try to remove the creature from within her.”
“Will that kill her?”
I shrug. “I don’t know for certain, but I think it is likely.”
A tear tumbles down June’s cheek. “Minerva will be there. I know she will do what she can to save Letty, and she will be kind.”
My heart is like a clenched fist deep in my chest. “Yes. Minerva will be kind.”
MINERVA
The Windsor coven house no longer feels like home. My heart is missing. Still, I sit with Sara Beth each day to discuss coven business.
Jonah has been gone for three days. I should receive a letter from him soon. My attempts at writing to him have been miserable failures. Nothing I feel sounds right on paper. I can’t empty my soul on the page as I should.
“Are you listening to me, Minerva?” Sara Beth scolds.
“I’m sorry. I was distracted. What did you say?” I pluck an imaginary speck of dust from my skirt.
“The great mother and I believe it is time to exorcise the demon from Letty Smythe’s body. I asked what you think?” Sara Beth pushes her long dark hair away from her face and watches me as I think on the subject.
“The coven is rested. We could try it with ten witches present, and there are enough of us within the city to assemble in an hour’s time.” I bolster my courage and say what’s on my mind, “I think we will kill the girl.”
Sara Beth frowns. She may be formidable and seem to have a hard exterior, but her duty weighs heavy on her. “I know, but what choice do we have? We can’t keep her imprisoned in William’s magic indefinitely, nor can we leave that monster inside a sister witch.”
Having listened from the soft chair placed in the corner of the common room, Prudence says, “Letty Smythe must have been dark before this monster took her over. If she was in the light, it wouldn’t have survived within her.”
Nodding, Sara Beth adds, “She had to have agreed if what’s within her is the same as what was in Fern.”
“Fern didn’t live long after that beast was removed.” I hate the idea of killing. “Even as a fire witch, the idea of more death…” Unable to find the words, I shake my head.
Prudence rises, and the chair creaks as she ambles over to me and squeezes my shoulder. “No witch in the light wants to kill. Your elemental affiliation is not unique, child. The demon must be removed. If Letty dies, it is her own doing. She cast the die when she took the monster within her.”
Knowing the great mother is right and having to watch a witch die are two different things. Still, I agree.
When the sun sets on Windsor, we gather ten witches in the remains of our coven room. The floor is patched, and the tree removed. Sturdy beams have been put in place to keep the open space from collapsing. It will take months to repair all the damage from the night Orin came to wage war, but we’ve made a start.
William lowers Letty, still surrounded by the bubble, into the center of the circle. She’s been released to eat and relieve herself, and even then, was manacled in magic.
Baring her teeth, Letty curses the witches and glares at each of us.
I wish the outcome could be better. “Letty, if you renounce the dark, we might be able to save you.”
“Save your pity, witch. I’m going to rip your heart out and dine on it while it still beats.” Drool runs down Letty’s chin.
“As long as you hold to dark magic and you’re merged with this demon, you will die when we send him back to his own realm.” I must make certain she understands the consequences of her choices.
The guttural voice that comes from Letty is disjointed and harsh. “Puny mortals. You don’t have the power to remove me. I own this body.” She grips her breasts as if they’re not her own.
Helplessly, I look at Sara Beth.
She shrugs. “Let’s begin.”
The spell is in the old language. All ten Windsor witches chant it together. We hold hands and continue chanting as the room shakes. Over and over, we repeat the spell.
Letty screams.
I falter, but Sara Beth grips my hand tighter, and I continue the chant.
We grow louder as the shaking of the coven house and Letty’s screams fill the room. A column of light rises from the ground surrounding Letty.
“Let your spell down, William.” Prudence calls above the din.
The opalescent bubble fades and disappears.
Letty leaps toward the edge of the light, but it throws her backward. The creature inside her separates and screeches so loudly my ears ring. On her back, Letty is panting. “Do not abandon me.”
Scaled and seeping evil, it cries again as the earth swallows it out of our world.
We stop chanting.
The column of light fades.
Letty gasps her last breath, and her empty eyes stare up at the coven house ceiling.
My heart feels heavy in my chest. Nothing about this feels like victory. These last days have tested my faith in Goddess. I’ve been forced to kill, and my love has been ripped away. After serving her all my life, I feel she has abandoned me in my hour of need. Perhaps she is the cause of my need. If she’d never linked me to Jonah, I might never have loved him.
I give the witches a long look.
They’ll give Letty’s body a proper release. It’s custom to send a witch to Goddess through fire.
Sara Beth calls for the cart. They’ll go out of town to take care of the ritual, just as we did with the other lost witches after the battle.
I can’t bear it. “Sara Beth, I’ll not be going with you tonight.”
Surprise flashes in her eyes. “Are you ill?”
“My faith is…” I sigh. “I need some time.”
Pulling me into her arms, Sara Beth hugs me tight. She whispers, “Take what you need. Tell me if I can help. You are my dearest friend, Minerva. I am here for you.”
Tears well up, but I hold them off and push away gently. “Thank you. I just need to think and maybe pray.”
“Why don’t you go to the riverbank tonight? There’s enough moon to light your way. We always found peace there when we were young.” Sara Beth gives me a weak smile, then turns and starts giving commands for removing Letty’s body.
I walk out the front door. It hangs at an odd angle on its hinges. Many repairs are needed at the coven house. The last few days have taken a toll.
In the street, the cobbler, Mr. Markham, sees me and jogs over. “Are you ladies all right, Miss Honeywell?”
Mr. Markham has been making shoes for witches for many years. His father did the same before him. The people of the neighborhood know what we are, and we protect them, so they are kind.
“All is well, Mr. Markham. Everyone is safe now.” I want to run away, but more of our neighbors are gathering around me asking what happened and if they can help.
Mrs. Price is the baker’s wife. “I can bring you bread if that would help. Mr. Price can come after church on Sunday and help with repairs. Tell us what we can do, Miss Honeywell. We may not understand, but you have always been our good neighbors.”
The tears I’ve been holding for three days rise and tumble out. “You are all too kind. We will need help fixing the damage. I’ll speak to Sara Beth Ware. She will know what we need.”
Mrs. Gall, a midwife, takes my hand and squeezes it. “Whatever tried to harm Windsor the other night, I saw it fly from here in fear and pain. You protected our king. We may pretend not to know, but that doesn’t mean we are blind to the good this house does.”
It takes me a quarter hour more to speak to everyone and thank them all for their kindness.
Walking toward the river, I empty my mind, but Jonah’s smile and kind eyes find their way inside regardless of how I try to push him away.
I reach a small grass knoll at the edge of the river. I search the area, but at nearly midnight, there is no one within sight.
Long ago, when Sara Beth and I were still very young, we found this spot. While the riverfront grew, and so much changed, this small plot of grass remains maintained but untouched. Year after year, no mortals build or ruin the spot. We attributed it to Goddess, though we have no proof. It just feels protected.
As such, we came here as girls to think and talk away from the prying attentions of other witches.
I fold into a seat with my legs crossed and close my eyes. “Goddess, why have you done this to me? I was happy in my life.”
“Why are you unhappy, child?” Goddess speaks softly in my head.
When I look, the stunning beauty of Hecate is there before me. As with each time I’ve seen Goddess, a breeze blows her hair away from her face, her expression kind and motherly.
“My faith is broken.” I brace myself for the wrath of a deity in whom I’ve lost faith.
She smiles. “If all followed blindly, how would they know truth?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have lived since the beginning and seen many of my children fall from faith. Some have gone to darkness, but most, like you, find their way. Questioning me is not a crime. You, Minerva Honeywell, have done right more times than I can count. This is not the path you expected?”
“No, Goddess. I thought I would find peace.”
“Would you have preferred never to have met Jonah Allen?” She cocks her head in an almost human way.
My first instinct is to say no. I would never give up my time with Jonah. Then the pain pushes against my chest from the inside as if my heart wants to burst from my body. Is the pain worth it? “I would not wish away my time with Jonah.”
“Perhaps fate went too far by linking you. The gods and goddesses in my world would say I have interfered. Yet, without the bond, you might have never learned that together you are stronger than apart. He might never have found his magic.” She speaks more to herself than me.
“Was it not you who suppressed his magic and hid it from his mother?”
Shrugging and smiling, she says, “You sent the demon away. It will take him many generations to gain enough strength to try to rule this world again.” She sobers. “I didn’t know you would fall so deeply in love. I do not know all that is meant. You mortals always have free will to deny your feelings. I can’t promise that will make you happy, but it is your choice.”
A long sigh escapes me. “What about Letty and the others I killed?”
“In war, there is death. You cannot save everyone, child, and you can’t save those who have embraced evil. Think on the girl you did save. Forrester would have drained her magic and left her an empty shell, unable to survive. Now she thrives, and will live and love. Is that not a great accomplishment?” Hecate meets my gaze.
In truth, it may be the greatest thing Jonah and I have ever, or will ever do. The thought of a future with Jonah slipped in without me realizing it. “I shouldn’t have let him leave.”
“Have I regained some of your faith?”
“Does it matter?” I’m genuinely curious as to why the goddess of all witches cares about my crisis of faith.
She looks away a moment then meets my gaze again. “I find it does.”
“You’re coming to me in my time of need goes a long way, my Goddess. Thank you.” I bow my head.
The warmth of Goddess magic flushes through me, and when next I look, I’m alone on the riverbank.
By the time I return to the coven house, the witches have returned and gone to bed. I do the same, but sleep doesn’t come. I think of Jonah. I wish he could feel my love and my longing for him to return.