He held out a hand to Malcolm. “Thank you for taking my place, Mr. Wellesley. I wish you great luck and wisdom.”
Still numb from events, Malcolm couldn’t dredge up a smile, but he placed his palm in Bromley’s hand. His entire world had been destroyed so Lord Bromley could retire? As if Lord Bromley read his thoughts he caught Malcolm’s eye.
“My hour has ended here, Mr. Wellesley. Your importance, the power you will bring, the balance to our world, that is what truly drives tonight’s events. Never forget it. You can make great changes in our world.”
Make great changes… hadn’t Calli said something like that? He could make real change… and now that victory, once so tempting with her, felt all the more hollow because he could not share it with her. He could only move forward to act to help her and other hedge witches like her.
“Thank you, sir.” All he could think about was Calli’s face when he left her behind. The emptiness he felt when all he wanted to do was make things right.
Serafina pulled him out of his straying thoughts. “I will bind your hands and speak the transfer spell. Then we will sign the contracts of assignment and termination.”
She bound their hands in a red ribbon that radiated with power. Then she motioned for Malcolm and the other warlock to step into the center of the weaving circle. There were no windows and drafts in this room, yet the candles sputtered momentarily, as though they sensed the magical exchange that was coming.
The witches and warlocks that formed the circle began to chant as one.
“We greet the strength of the northern wind,
We face the welcoming warmth of the southern sun,
We hear the whispers of wisdom from the west,
We raise our glasses to toast the good fortune and joy sent by the east,
One whose service has come to an end,
steps away so a new power may ascend.”
Serafina broke away from the others and approached Malcolm.
“Malcolm Wellesley, do you agree to take a place upon this Council? To serve thirty years and ensure the peace of the witching world?”
Malcolm’s throat ran dry. All he wanted was to go home. To Calli. Because she was his home. She held his heart, and not five minutes earlier he’d broken hers. He had to make things right. But he couldn’t, not yet. Not until he’d saved his father.
“I—” Malcolm’s gaze turned to his father’s gaunt face. Reginald’s eyes were haunted as he watched the proceedings, knowing he was responsible for all of this.
But he was as much of a victim as anyone. He’d bargained his own life for the chance to give Malcolm a normal childhood with his own family, only to see it backfire in the worst possible way. He had carried that burden in silence for years. Despite all his demands and pressure, his father had still wanted it to be Malcolm’s choice. But making Malcolm choose between his own freedom and his father’s life had left him with no real choice at all.
Malcolm knew what he had to do.
“I do.” He answered firmly.
Serafina breathed a sigh of relief. She retrieved a slender dagger and approached him. She separated his hand from Lord Bromley’s and let the ribbon fall to the ground in the center of the spell circle. As it fell, the magic infused within it spread out across the circle, illuminating the intricate scrollwork painted on the floor.
Serafina took Malcolm’s hand and pricked his index finger with the knife, then pricked the index finger of Lord Bromley. A warlock stepped inside the circle and presented them with a long scroll of parchment.
“Sign your name in blood to seal your active service and your retirement,” he instructed.
Malcolm pressed his finger beside his name, as did Lord Bromley. Their names suddenly glowed bright red upon the page. The glow faded, and a flash of light, momentarily blinded Malcolm.
When his vision cleared, he looked toward his parents. His father’s face was warm with color again, and he seemed to be breathing much easier. But his face hadn’t lost the haunted look, it had merely transformed to encompass tonight’s events with a deep regret.
Their gazes locked across the room. Father and son. In that moment, Malcolm forgave his father all that had happened. He let go of all the resentment he held against his father for the past even though nothing could bring back the future he’d been so close to having with Calli.
His mother threw her arms around Reginald’s neck, but she turned towards Malcolm.
“I’m so sorry…” she mouthed at him.
Malcolm was sorry too. All that mattered in his life had vanished in a mere instant. He was a hollow shell. He was nothing now, to himself or others. It was as though the Malcolm he had been had died. This Malcolm was only a specter… a ghost. He faced Serafina.
