Wynn might have had some sympathy for the witches. Not only had she brought a curse to their coven, but her transition into an almost-mage had come with an explosion that had destroyed buildings and caused serious injuries. But any attempt to understand their panic was shattered by the one memory she did have. A group of women screaming for her death.
“Their plan was to burn me alive,” she rasped.
“Unfortunately,” Charlotte agreed, smart enough not to try to excuse the coven’s murderous intent. “I was hiding in the woods and too far away to see exactly what happened after they’d forced you to the top of the hill, but they all looked anxious when they returned to the cottages and started to repair the damage. No one ever spoke of that day again, but it was the beginning of the end for the coven.”
Charlotte once again implied that Wynn was somehow responsible for ruining the coven.
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s the truth.” The watery blue gaze swept over the cramped room. “No one died that day, but our powers began to fade. And worse, none of the witches could have children. I even left the area to find a lover thinking the curse might be isolated to our land, but I was still denied a baby. It was as if we were being punished for your death.” Charlotte snapped her lips together, staring at Wynn in confusion. “But that can’t be right, can it? You didn’t die.”
Wynn resisted the urge to continue to press for a reason that the coven had died out. Maybe the curse really had been caused by her birth. Or maybe it’d been brought on by the witches’ evil attempt to kill an innocent girl. Or maybe it was simply natural selection.
“What about my mother?” she instead asked.
“She passed away decades ago. Along with the rest of the coven. I’m the only one left.”
Wynn took a moment to absorb the realization that her mother was dead. No, not her mother. The woman who’d given birth to her. A real mother didn’t try to torch their child.
Was she sad that she’d never have a relationship with the woman? Not really. The woman sounded like an overly ambitious bitch who was more interested in power than her own child.
Good riddance.
Not sure what else the witch could tell her that might help in the battle against the corruption, Wynn was on the point of turning away when she was struck by a sudden thought.
“If you’re losing your magic, why do you stay?”
The woman blinked. “This is my home.”
“There are other covens. I’m sure you could find a new—”
“No.” Charlotte raised her hands to her throat, as if frightened by the mere suggestion of leaving. “I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Wynn studied the pale eyes that were darting from side to side. Was Charlotte afraid of the question? “Is there someone keeping you here? Or some sort of magic?”
The eyes continued to dart as Charlotte leaned toward Wynn. “They need me.”
“Who?” Wynn demanded. “You said the rest of the witches were dead.”
“They’re still watching.”
Wynn swiftly battled back the prickling sense of unseen eyes that crawled over her bare skin. Azh would have sensed anyone lurking in the dark. Obviously this woman was going mad from being alone for so long in this isolated cottage.
“I’m sure they do watch over you,” she gently assured her.
“No, you don’t understand.” Charlotte abruptly reached out to grasp Wynn’s arm in a painful grasp. “I hear them whispering at night.”
Wynn started to yank her arm free, only to hesitate. There was a fierce intensity in the woman’s voice that warned she fully believed the witches were talking to her. Was it possible she’d been tainted by the corruption? Wynn couldn’t detect the evil magic, but maybe it was in the area, driving this woman to the edge.
“What do they whisper?”
“They beg for me to release them.”
“Release them from what?”
“Death.”
“You’re trying to bring them back from the dead?” A new fear stabbed through Wynn, wiping away her suspicion that the corruption had caused Charlotte’s madness.
