“Exploring . . . here? Or elsewhere?”
Merlin chuckled. “You have the measure of her. I expect she’s timewalking alone.”
“Oh . . . okay.” I tried to keep the dejection from my tone and failed.
Merlin’s face softened. “Morgan is not the most patient of witches. Truth be told, it is one of her few flaws. If I had to guess, I’d say that she went alone so that she might find a black witch to train you sooner.”
My lips twisted. While that should have made me happy because it indicated that she understood how important it was that I left soon, her taking matters into her own hands stung.
Had I been slowing her down? I still wasn’t a pro at distinguishing the strands of time, but I was getting better. Or so I’d thought. Maybe she just wanted to get rid of us? Have her life and cottage back?
“Don’t take it personally, sweets,” Alex said, reading my mind. “Morgan knows that others are depending on us. She wants to help, and there are a lot of black witches throughout history to appraise.”
“That’s no joke,” Diana said as she breezed into the room. “My mother used to be obsessed with researching black witches. She said it helped her understand the enemy better.”
They were both right. I was being too prideful, which, considering everything we’d be up against soon, wasn’t just dumb, it was dangerous.
“I hope she returns soon,” I said finally.
Alex patted the seat next to him, and I joined the guys at the table. My eyes landed on the tome laid out on the scarred and weathered wood.
The book was new, the leather scent strong. The handwriting on the pages was fresh, and the painted illustrations, bright with natural pigments. All of M&M’s books—whether from the past, their time, or the future—were works of art. Many were also, usually, extremely hard to read. Personally, I’d take typed text any day. Diana and Alex, however, seemed to enjoy and even have a knack for reading the older texts with archaic, loopy scripts.
“What are you studying?”
“This is an old book of spells,” Morgan’s paramour replied. “Some of which I plan on teaching you lot today.”
I peered at the page. “Do we know any of them already?”
“None that I’ve come across,” Alex said excitedly. “Merlin asked me to review them with him and pick ones I thought would be beneficial against the demons. So far, I’ve found at least a dozen that could be helpful.”
“Hmmm,” I hummed. “But we have a few spells that work against demons.Nexfor lesser demons.Morsultimusfor greater demons and royals. Why do we need more?”
“Not everyone will be able to command a sacred enchantment likeMorsultimus,” Merlin reminded me. “Of course, they might not be able to use these spells, either, but you should not assume that. Give them the tools to try. Pass on this knowledge, spread it to those who fight with you.”
That made sense.
Diana glanced at the page. “The words look so strange. Certainly not Latin-based, like most of the spells we know. What culture are they from?”
“These are from the druids. Translated, this means ‘to seal wings’.” He pointed to another that I could barely read because of the script. “This is to freeze, and the last one is to dissolve acid,” Merlin explained.
Dissolve acid? That would be useful against succubi, who spewed the stuff.
Merlin smiled at me as if he knew what I was thinking. “Each is helpful in their own way. And yes, they are tailored to specific demons, as druids fought them often. It’s said that their spells are passed down from the old gods. They’re powerful, and so ancient and forgotten that your enemy will not anticipate them.”
“Are they aether-based?” Diana asked.
“No,” Merlin replied. “These are for witches. Not rare fae, or godlings. Even in this time godlings are rare and as the devils hunt them viciously, they grow more rare by the day.” His eyes dimmed a little at the idea of a hunted magical race. I didn’t want to tell him that in my timeline godlings were long extinct. “The old gods could be cruel, but when they gifted knowledge they were sensible.”
My spine straightened. I’d never thought much about the old gods. Here, however, they seemed to pop up in conversation often.
“The druids were like the old gods’ priests and priestesses, right?” I asked.
“In a way,” Merlin answered. “They were the priests and priestesses in this area. Other parts of the world had spiritual leaders that went by different names—many existed before the druids.”
“When did the old gods live . . . or whatever you would call their existence,” I qualified, unsure whether something made of aether, the fifth and most powerful element, could truly ‘live’. “Did they travel? You know, like spreading the word?”
Merlin’s blue eyes twinkled, reminding me strongly of my man when he was talking about something he found intriguing. It seemed this was a subject of interest. “They are timeless, limitless, and boundless. They transmuted endlessly—some, as you know, into royal demons, while others became new versions of themselves. For instance, the old gods were revered in ancient Egypt, then Greece, and Rome. Often, devotees merely called the same deities different names. That trend continued as other cultures progressed. Our own magical ancestor, the line from where the first witch kings and queens originally received their power, stemmed from a magic goddess. Isis, Hekate, and many lesser known goddesses, are all one in the same.”
