Druids. I barely understood what that word meant beyond vague memories of stories of human sacrifices and cannibalism. I watched Gwen move to the centre of the circle, her white robes fluttering around her plump body as she led a ritual that I didn’t understand. Flynn nudged me and whispered, “I’ve been to a druidic ritual before. They make no bloody sense, but the best thing is that at the end there’s a feast.”
“Do you think there will be curry?” Blake asked hopefully.
The ritual seemed to be winding down. The chanting stopped. Gwen tossed down her staff and she extended a hand to me. “Come, we have welcomed you and asked our gods to bless and protect you on your sacred mission. Join us now as seal our bonds with bread and wine. We have much to discuss.”
Our two covens sat in the centre of the field, forming two lopsided circles around me and Gwen. Baskets of bread, sharp cheese, relish, and small walnut tarts were passed around, as well as drinking horns filled with mead. Candice sat behind her mother, holding her staff and the still dribbling candle. Was she the magister? I wondered. But surely Gwen didn’t have a sexual relationship with her daughter. There must be all sorts of different traditions and ways of doing magic, just like there were a hundred different Christian churches and denominations.
I chewed on a slice of bread while I summed up for Gwen, as succinctly as I could, exactly what had happened at Briarwood and what we knew so far about the fae. Unlike the nervousness I felt around Isadora, I found the words came easily here.
And even though the words I spoke were of terrible things, I felt a tremendous sense of power wash over me. Standing out in the crisp wind, with the stars blanketing our ritual, something kindled inside me. I glanced up at the Milky Way streaking across the sky and fancied I saw a silver thread streaking through the cosmos, connecting us all the way back into prehistory and beyond.
“… so I don’t know what to do,” I finished. “I know my mother asked you to Briarwood twenty-one years ago to perform a ritual. I know that ritual involved something so dark that you may wish never to speak of it, but my very existence means that you can’t have seen what you think you saw.”
Gwen placed her hand on my shoulder. “Aline was the most powerful witch of her time, and that night her power was bolstered by the rest of us. I was part of the inner circle, and I saw a terrible thing. She intended to kill you, and yet you did not die.“ She rubbed my hand, squeezing my fingers when they started to tremble. “That is magic I’ve never seen before, the power of life or death.”
“I’m afraid…” My heart thudded in my chest. “I’m afraid that to stop the Slaugh I’m going to have to do a terrible thing.”
Gwen rested her hand on my shoulder. “Somehow, I do not believe so. Your mother found a way to cheat the fae of their price. You are clever, and you are bolstered by other clever witches who love you. You will find the answer, and we will help you in any way we can. Where you lead, we will follow, Maeve Moore. We have so much here that’s worth protecting. We will fight for you, for us, for all of humankind.”
“Thank you.” I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry that this all has to be done in secret. I’m scared my sister?—”
“Oh, precious girl. We’re all scared. That’s why we must work together. Because—” Gwen stopped mid-word, her head snapping up. “Someone is there,” she whispered. “Behind the stone.”
I focused my gaze on the large stone she was staring at. My heart stopped as a dark figure broke away from behind the monolith and sprinted back toward the village. It was impossible to recognise in the darkness, but it looked slight, the churning limbs thin and spindly. I thought I caught a flash of blonde hair.
Like a fae.
Like Liah.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
MAEVE
Iwoke to the smell of bacon frying and voices laughing. Arthur snored beside me on the foldout sofa, one enormous arm pinning my body to the mattress. I slid out from under him, noting that the rest of the guys were already awake. I peeked into Kelly and Jane’s room, but they weren’t there, either, and Connor’s stroller was missing.
I ducked under a particularly low beam into a tiny bathroom to gargle. Gwen’s tinkling laugh and Corbin’s loud groan echoed off the dark wood. Flynn must’ve told one of his patented dumb jokes. I stepped into the kitchen and three guys wrapped me in a morning hug. Flynn’s lips brushed mine while Rowan pressed his to my ear and Blake nuzzled (nuzzled? Blake? I’m in heaven) the nape of my neck.
“Welcome to the land of the living,” Candice called from in front of the stove, where she flipped sausages and bacon like a pro.
I tried to extricate myself from the guys before Candice noticed, but Flynn shoved his tongue down my throat. “It’s okay, Einstein, I told her about us.”
Candice nodded. “It’s typical in our coven for the High Priestess to take many lovers. Mum’s no exception. These days she…how do you say it in America? She bats for the other team.”
I recalled the sea of female faces who regarded me from within their snow-white hoods last night, and the way Gwen would touch one on the shoulder or laugh with another. Candice’s revelation didn’t surprise me at all.
“Candice said she’d show me the coven’s studio after breakfast.” Flynn looked hopeful. His eyes darted to one of Candice’s paintings on the wall above the stove. “I had an idea for a new piece and I thought…I’m not much use otherwise…”
“Go.” I waved a hand. “I’m starting to realise that making artisuseful. Has anyone seen Kelly? It’s not like her to miss bacon.”
“She and Jane went out for a walk about an hour ago.” Blake tucked into his eggs and bacon with gusto. “I guess they’ll come back when?—”
“Omigod, I smell bacon!” The front door slammed and Kelly came rushing into the kitchen. She frowned when she saw us all around the kitchen table. “Were you even going to save any for me?”
“Of course, Kelly. There’s plenty. Here.” I held out the plate for her. She didn’t take it.
“I have to wash my hands.” Kelly disappeared from the room.
A hand touched my shoulder. Rowan. Of course he was the one to notice the tension between us. “It will be okay,” he whispered.
