“Your son is evil. The witches have already corrupted him. The demon they placed inside me told me so.”
I got to my feet, raising my hand and pointing it at her. The power Arthur and Flynn unleashed inside me threatened to escape. Dora’s words twisted in my head, digging into my heart.I’ll shut her up. I’ll?—
Flames devouring a wooden desk. Uncle Bob’s face twisted in agony as I slam his nightmares into his skull all at once…
I can’t do it. I can’t hurt her like that.
Dora’s mind had already been invaded by the fae. If I did the same thing, then I was no better than they were.
My arm wobbled. My righteous anger faltered. A hand fell on my shoulder. “Save your anger for the fae,” Arthur whispered.
I nodded, lowering my hand. But it was too late. Dora spun toward me, her lip quivering as she lifted a bony finger and pointed right at me. “This all started whenshearrived – the daughter of that sorceress.Shewas supposed to be dead, but she came to the castle and all of a sudden my boys are acting strangely, and then my body is possessed by a demon, and now the harlot wants her son baptized. Can’t you see it’s all connected? It’s allherfault.”
“Dora,” Clara took a step towards her. Her heelsclack-clack-clackedon the marble floor. Clara took another step. “I know you’re going through a rough patch. Your son is in the hospital. The doctors say he might not live out the month, although I can tell you it will be closer to ten days before you must say goodbye. You blame yourself for not accepting him for who he is. You think that if you’d tried to talk to him, to get him to repent his sins, than he would never have gotten sick. You think God is punishing you for your son, and that by purging this town of so-called sinners, He will give him back to you.”
Dora’s lip wavered. “That’s not true. My son is perfectly fine. He?—”
I glanced at Arthur and Rowan, but they looked just as surprised as I felt. They didn’t know about Dora’s son. Rowan looked sick. And from the horrified looks on her followers’ faces, they weren’t aware, either.
So how does Clara know?
I remembered what she’d said at the shop, that she’d known my mother, that she’d come to Briarwood to perform rituals with our coven. And suddenly I realised – Clara wasn’t just any witch.
She was aspiritwitch.
She had the power of clairvoyance – knowing things she had no way of knowing. That was the same power my mother claimed.
Never mind that quantum physics didn’t allow for precognition or premonition…Clara could be more important in this battle than we’d ever guessed.
Now I’m thinking like a witch instead of a scientist.
Clara stepped forward again, rapping her cane against the marble. The sound echoed right through the lofty nave. “If you say so, dear. But let me say this – it is not your job to mete out judgement. Jane may be as you say, and Maeve and those boys may be witches who dance naked under the moon. For all you know, I could be a witch who dances naked alongside them, my old bones groaning with joy.” Clara patted her hip, and smiled a kind smile. “All this sin and depravity and degradation could be going on in this villageright now,and it doesn’t matter a damn – pardon my language, Father. Because you love your son, and you were like a grandmother to those boys for many years, when most of them had never known kindness from a woman.”
“But…” Dora’s finger continued to point at me, but her hand trembled.
“You are not the final judge,” Clara said. “Your only duty to your God is to be the best woman you can be. A woman your son could be proud of. Don’t let the last act he sees you do on this earth be one of hatred.”
Dora’s hand dropped. Her eyes turned down in the corners, and her whole face crumpled. She sagged like a damp cloth. “I…”
“What’s happening, Dora?” An elderly woman in the mob asked. “Is all this true?”
“Don’t let her fool you, Dora!” Inspector Davies yelled. “She’s a witch too, just like the rest of them.”
“He’s my baby boy,” Dora said, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. “The Bible says he’s disgusting, but he’s myson. I can’t find the?—”
She stumbled over her words as her foot slipped out from beneath her. She crashed against the marble floor. At first I thought one of the guys had done it, but then I felt the floor tilt beneath me. I grabbed the back of the pew to steady myself, but the pew slid across the marble, leaping out of my grasp.
The walls rumbled and the whole church lurched, as though it were rolling through the ocean on a great wave.
“It’s an earthquake!” Inspector Davies yelled.
The floor buckled, slamming my knees into the marble. Arthur fell beside me, landing on his thigh. He crawled toward the aisle, his sword scraping along the marble. He dragged a dagger from his belt.
“Get under the arches!” Corbin yelled. “They’re the strongest part of the structure.”
“That won’t help! This isn’t an earthquake!” Arthur yelled back.
What made him say that I couldn’t see. Chunks of stone fell from the ceiling, crashing around me, sending up clouds of white dust to obscure my vision. I wrapped my arms over my head and tried to crawl behind Arthur. A high-pitched sound stopped me in my tracks.
