***
Later, I sat at the kitchen table, alone with nothing more than my thoughts, now that Grace had gone to school.
I drummed my fingers on the table as I chewed my lip, debating. I had never been the type of person who liked to just sit by and do nothing, and after last night…
It was too late for Grace. The transformation had already started. Sooner or later, she would start shifting. I would never be able to get those whimpers out of my head or the sight of her curled up in pain.
Elias had said other children were experiencing similar symptoms. I didn’t want to subject any other parents to havingto watch their children suffer like I had last night. If there was anything I could do to help, then I would.
The problem washowI could help. I couldn’t shift, so I couldn’t hunt for the wraith’s lair with the others. I could barely wield magic, and I didn’t think making water hot would help defeat a sand wraith.
I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit here. So what could I do?
I could do some research. There had to be information on wraiths somewhere, places where others might not think to look.
I racked my brain. Wraiths were magic. The elders distrusted anything to do with magic. They tolerated the Oracle, but that was it. I remembered that when I was a kid, any information on magic was hidden in a secluded, private section of the library that no one but leadership could access. And none of the elders would dare research magic, given their distaste for it.
However, as of the other week, “leadership” now includes me.
If I were going to be the pack luna, I should use the position for good rather than sitting around here doing nothing. The fewer people who had to go through what I did last night, the better. Besides, this was my home now. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let some wraith put my home, my daughter, my mate in harm’s way if I could do something about it.
The chair scraped against the tile as I pushed myself away from the table. I had a plan.
***
The library was a large brick structure a couple of streets back from the oasis, close enough that I could hear the soothing sound of running water. The sun beat down overhead, baking the earth and causing sweat to prickle at the back of my neck as I walked up the stone steps to the main doors. The A/C felt like a soothing balm as cold air blasted my face.
I saw a thin librarian sitting at the desk. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, stereotypical bun, not a black hair out of place.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“I was hoping I could take some time to look at your books on magic,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, pleasant, and innocuous.
The librarian pursed her lips, looking at me suspiciously. I kept the smile on my face, forcing myself not to show the irritation rippling through me. Clearly, I still had a lot of work to do to ingratiate myself with the rest of the town. Asking to look at books on magic wasn’t exactly going to endear me to the pack, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if this librarian decided to let it slip I had been in here. But at the moment, I couldn’t afford to be self-conscious or care. If there was any chance I could get the information I needed from those books, then let her talk.
Eventually, though, the woman gave a tight-lipped smile and guided me deep into the library. She unlocked a door and held it open for me, revealing a small room with shelves lining each wall, several of them behind locks and glass. A small reading table stood in the middle of the windowless room.
With a curt, still-suspicious nod, the librarian left me a ring of tiny keys before spinning on her heels and hurrying out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Taking a deep breath, I turned and scanned the shelves, fingers running along the spines of the books as I tried to figure out where the hell to start. I doubted the wraith had been summoned, so those books were worthless. Same with general casting and ones on cantrips. Potions and herbs looked like an interesting read, but not what I would need.
My finger caught on one book, for no reason in particular. I paused as I looked at the title.
A Genealogy of Witches
I couldn’t explain it, but something tugged at me as I regarded the book. It called to me. I doubted it had anything to do with wraiths, but for whatever reason, a compulsion took over.
I pulled it out and sat down to read, the book splayed out in front of me. I flipped through the pages with interest, not really sure what I was looking for, or what might have compelled me to pick up this book.
The answer appeared as I turned another page. I stopped, breath catching as I came to one family tree in particular. The Williamses from Spring Coven, located near Adobe Creek.
The surname didn’t give me pause, not right away. What caught my attention was a single name, written a couple of generations from the bottom of the tree.
Dierdre Williams.
I knew that name, but it seemed so strange to see it here, of all places. It took me a long moment to accept that I was reading it properly.
Dierdre Williams.
