Dragon Magic, page 4
part #4 of Ever Witch Series
“Yes. I see to the guests here, whatever you may require.”
I nodded, glancing around the room, wondering what else he’d done while I was in the shower. “If I pull the rope, I’m assuming you’re the person who will answer?’
“Precisely.” His smile was friendly enough, but his eyes bothered me.
“Great. Thanks for all this by the way. Don’t think I’ll be needing too much attention while I’m here, though.”
He nodded. “As you say, Master Tank, but know that I am here, all the same.” He walked toward the door, but paused at my next question.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you? Warlock?”
His smile faltered for a second as he clasped his hands behind his back. “No. Afraid not. My family has served this coven for generations beyond count. We find it an honor. The witches have done much for the village my family came from.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Yes. Now then, the festivities will kick off in an hour. Amelie has requested you wait for her in the rear foyer in forty-five minutes.” He bowed again then left.
I ate a bit of the cheese and bread, curious about this Lucius guy. If he worked for the coven, there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. He was surrounded by the most powerful witches and warlocks in the world. If he had dark intentions, they would be the first to know.
“Supposed to be here to relax,” I told my reflection as I smoothed back my wet hair with my fingers. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Relax.” I adjusted my flannel shirt, hoping it was dressy enough for tonight and poured a glass of wine.
The minutes ticked by too damned slow for my taste and after about ten or so, I left my room to wander about the castle until it was time to meet Amelie. There were fewer people walking around than when I arrived.
I took the stairs down and picked a random corridor to follow. Paintings covered the walls, faces of witches and warlocks from eras gone by. In the first half of the corridor, all of them smiled. The further I walked, the more dour their faces became, until it was like I walked down a hall of sadness.
“They were around for the Shadowguard war,” a woman said from behind me.
“Selma, good to see you again.” I nodded in respect to the Council member as she approached. I shoved my hands in my pockets, admiring the face of a witch who looked like an older, sadder version of Amelie. “Who is she?”
“Aria. She wasn’t part of the First Communion, but she was one of the founders of this coven. She was there for the aftermath of the war, all the suffering that came with it. The hardship of watching the dragons hunt down the clan they deemed responsible. Her voice was one of many who spoke up against such cruel practices. And she is the ancestor of your Amelie.”
My Amelie. I smiled, liking the sound of that, then quickly made my face go blank when I caught Selma watching me. “Interesting, that’s uh… thank you for telling me.”
“I am glad she brought you here. Instead of Jared.”
“Why is that? I thought you all like Jared?”
“We do, but he was not the right fit for our Amelie. She has a bright future ahead of her. The magic in her veins is strong, though she constantly doubts herself now that the war with Radnak is over.”
“I know the feeling,” I murmured.
Selma’s brow rose in question.
I continued, “She fought alongside Everest. That can be intimidating to anyone. I should know. I stood by Slade’s side. Watching the clan leader shift into a dragon far larger than any in our clan is… well, intimidating.”
Not that Slade or Everest meant to do so, of course. It’s just who they were. Neither boasted about their great deeds either. The fact remained though, that he was the clan leader and she was a Descendant.
I rolled my shoulders, shoving aside those memories from the battles, and moved away from Aria’s portrait to the others.
Selma kept me company, pointing out different witches and warlocks as we walked along.
“This time away will be good for you both,” Selma declared as we reached the end of the corridor and a set of stairs that led down. “Amelie needs to be reminded of her magic, and you need to remember all the great you have done. All the lives you’ve changed and will keep changing.”
I leaned on the stone railing overlooking the stairwell. Witches and warlocks chatted happily as they walked around us, making their way to the festivities that would be beginning soon.
I looked at Selma. “I don’t want to forget what happened, but I’m tired of seeing their faces every time I close my eyes at night. Hearing the screams from battle. Somedays, I hear nothing, like it never happened. Other times, it’s like I’m right back in the fight and unable to get out. Is it because I didn’t do enough? Are the ghosts of the dead haunting me?”
Selma’s hand on my shoulder was comforting. “Never think that. You sacrificed so much during the war. All of you did. The only one haunting you is yourself. The old you.”
I frowned, uncertain what she meant.
Her smile was soft, and as she kissed my cheek, a calmness washed over me. “The warrior you once were is no longer needed. It’s him you must let go of. There is no more cause to fight.” She stepped away, smoothing her hands down her long, black dress. “Now then, I’m expected to give the welcoming speech and must be on my way. You can find your way from here?”
I nodded.
She patted my cheek. “Yes, this will be good for you both.”
As she walked away down the stairs, I wandered back down the hall to Aria’s portrait. Good for us both, she’d said. Why did it feel as though Selma knew something about me and Amelie that I didn’t?
“A little help?” Sadly, the portrait I’d spoken to didn’t reply.
Leaving the corridor behind, I followed the rest of the witches and warlocks, walking toward the rear of the castle. The foyer here was even grander than the one through which we entered the mansion.
I stepped to the side and admired the exposed beams overhead. Massive iron chandeliers hung from them, candles flickered.
I was just picturing my home, and how it would be cool with exposed beams like that, on a smaller scale, of course when Amelie called my name.
“Hey… wow.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as she approached, spinning around so I could take in the full view of her in that red dress. “You look amazing.”
“You think? It’s not too much?”
The red fabric hugged her hips and flared out past her knees. The neck was beaded with black stones that trailed down the front of the dress. The sleeves draped at her sides as she came toward me, looking uncertain. Her hair was done up with ringlets that fell over her shoulders.
I reached for one without thinking and set it behind her back.
“Not even close.”
Her eyes shimmered as she stepped even closer.
“I feel horribly underdressed.”
“You’re a guest, you’re allowed. I, however, am descended of the founding member of this coven, so I must play the part. At least for a little while. Besides,” she said, running her hands over my collar to smooth it down. “I like you in flannel.”
“Glad to hear it.” I offered her my arm.
She tucked her hand in the crook of my elbow. It seemed the temperature shot up, and suddenly it was a bit too warm for what I wore.
We exited the castle, following the lighted lanterns lining the walk and out onto the lawns. Chairs were lined up in rows before a small stage. Selma and several other witches and warlocks were already seated on the stage, waiting for the rest of the coven to make it to their seats.
Amelie guided me to the front, no matter how much I cringed and attempted to hang back. She had to be up on the stage and seemed worried about leaving me alone.
“I’ll be fine. I promise,” I assured her, not sitting in the chair she indicated.
“You going to stand there with your arms crossed the whole time?”
“What’s wrong with that?” I gave her a wolfish grin.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. The opening talks never take too long. Then we’ll be up and partying the night away.”
“Sounds like a great beginning to a vacation.”
She squeezed my arm then darted up the steps, greeting everyone she passed. We hadn’t even been here a full day, and she already seemed more relaxed. More herself. I sidled off to the side, ready to find a tree to lean against when the same blonde from earlier sauntered over. I remembered her name but wasn’t about to let her know that. The glint in her eyes said what she was after. Too bad she was about to be horribly disappointed.
“Tank, huh?” she purred.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
Her sly smile faltered, and she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Jane.”
“Right, Jane. Sorry, I have a terrible memory with names.”
“Sure. Where did you get yours?”
I rested against the trunk of the tree, letting my gaze wander over the crowd until I spotted Amelie. “My parents.”
“Wait. That’s your real name?”
“Yeah. Problem?”
“No, just assumed it was a nickname of sorts. What parents name their kid Tank?”
I tensed. “Those who have been warriors their whole lives and wished for me to be one, too. The name helped me realize who I was, how strong I could become to help the rest of my clan. If you’re offended by my name, perhaps you should find someone else to flirt with.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” she sputtered. “Truly. It’s just the name fits you so well, I thought it was because of your physique.”
“Apology accepted.” I said nothing else and hoped she’d get the message.
“So, you’re here with Amelie as her friend.” Her eyes narrowed curiously as she tilted her head then smiled. “Ah, I see.”
“See what?”
“What’s holding your attention. I take it Amelie and Jared are no more?”
Briefly, I wondered if all witches were this ridiculous. “They broke up.”
“Who broke up with who?”
“I believe it was mutual, but if you’re so concerned for your friend, perhaps you should ask her all these questions later this evening.”
She blanched. “Of course I’m concerned for her. They were together for so long. Why wouldn’t I be? I was just wondering what happened. They seemed so happy when I saw them last.”
“Guess things change.”
Jane was not upset for Amelie at all. She was digging for information, and the longer I studied her face, the more I realized why she wanted to know. She liked Jared. What was it with that damned Hollow Well that so many witches found so freaking attractive? Hell, I was sure even Everest had been attracted to him at one point in time.
I had only spoken to Jane twice, for less than five minutes each time, and I already disliked her. A lot. I waited for her to walk away, but she stayed by my side.
“What about you?” She beamed at me.
I frowned. “What about me?”
Her shoulder brushed against mine, and I immediately put some distance between us. When she pouted, I fought the urge to simply walk away, but until I knew how close she was to Amelie, or who Jane was, I didn’t want to tick her off. I came here to relax, though, and she made that extremely difficult.
“You know, are you single?”
“Before you get the wrong idea, not interested.”
She nodded, but then burst out laughing. “Wow, alright then.”
I really needed to find a way to make her go away. “What now?”
“You’re interested alright, just not in me. That’s okay, I’ll keep your secret for you.” She patted my shoulder like we were the best of friends and she was doing me a favor. “Why else would you agree to come to the gathering unless you liked her.”
I said nothing since it was true, but my feelings were none of Jane’s business. Besides, Amelie recently broke up with Jared. I’d be an idiot to think she was ready for another relationship. I wouldn’t be making a move, not even one until she did first. If she did. People said all sorts of things when they were upset and intoxicated. Amelie might not even recall what she said to me about remembering our kiss.
The crowd quieted down, and Jane slipped away to find a seat.
Selma stood on the stage, holding her arms to gain everyone’s attention. “Welcome everyone to our annual gathering.”
Applause and whistles met her words.
She waved at the crowd, smiling brightly, but I only had eyes for one person on that stage. Amelie was clapping, too, and as if she sensed me watching her, those green eyes found mine. She smiled wider and winked.
Damn if she wasn’t going to cause me all sorts of problems while I was here with her all week. Maybe I’d try one kiss in a couple of days, and if she didn’t slap me, I’d take it as a good sign.
“I only have a couple of announcements, and then the festivities can begin,” Selma announced. “First of all, the northern tower is still undergoing renovations so please avoid it. I know it offers the best view of the night sky, but I would prefer no one fall down the half-completed steps. Also, several poltergeists have been spotted in the lower levels. Though they are troublesome beings, I must urge you all not to instigate them. That means you, Troy.”
She eyed a warlock in the first row, and several others slapped him hard on the back as he shrugged.
Being here was almost like being in the valley, except instead of surrounded by my clan, I got to see Amelie’s extended family.
“Also, we have a new family of unicorns on the grounds. I encourage you to give them space. They were recently rescued so please, please, do your best to make them feel at home here. Now, we’ll have a few brief words from the three heads of the coven, and then the feasting can commence.”
Selma stepped back, and a warlock took her place.
He cleared his throat and opened his mouth.
A shrill scream cut through the quiet murmurings of the crowd.
A second scream followed.
Instinct to help took over and I started to run.
The scream turned into one of panic and fear, and as I stepped inside, a body crashed to the stones.
I jumped.
The few who followed me cried out in alarm.
The witch’s body was broken, and blood seeped from her mouth. I didn’t have to get any closer to know she was dead. Cautiously, I approached her body and pressed my fingers to her neck anyway.
“Tank,” Amelie gasped as she approached my side. “Oh goddess, it’s Melody. Is she… Tank?”
Tears seeped from her eyes.
My lips thinned, wishing I could tell her the witch lived. “She’s dead. I’m so sorry, Amelie.”
I rose and then she was in my arms. I held her close as Selma caught up to us, shaking her head in disbelief.
So much for a relaxing week.
Four
Amelie
More tears slipped from my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away with a handkerchief.
Tank walked along the balcony with Selma. They spoke quietly to each other, and their words didn’t register.
Melody’s terrified scream echoed in my ears again. Then seeing her dead body on the stones. This had to be a nightmare. I refused to believe it was real.
“She fell,” I blurted.
Selma and Tank looked at me sympathetically.
“She did,” I insisted. “That’s what happened.”
“Amelie,” Selma tried.
I shook my head. “What other explanation is there? She was not depressed. And why would she scream like that? She fell. End of story.”
Tank crouched by the railing, his brow wrinkling. “Afraid not.”
“What did you find?” Selma crouched beside him, her face paling. “Oh dear, this is not good. Not good at all. Amelie, perhaps you should retire to your room for now. This has been a horrible tragedy for all of us. And I know how close you were to her.”
“No, I’m staying right here. What did you find?”
Tank hesitated, clamping his mouth shut.
“Tell me, I can take it.” I wiped my face again and squared my shoulders. “I can handle it, whatever it is.”
“Blood.” He pointed to the small pool on the stones, mostly dried.
“And?”
“If there’s blood up here then my guess is she was attacked then thrown over the railing,” he explained bluntly.
I almost smacked him for saying it so emotionlessly, but I’d said I could handle it. Later I could fall apart. Right now, I had to be strong for Melody’s sake. “Attacked by who? No one here is an enemy. Everyone must pass through the protective barrier. If they mean to do harm, they can’t get in.”
“It would appear then that this was either a crime of passion, or we are dealing with very dark magic. Strong magic.” Selma sighed heavily, the weight of the world seeming to fall on her shoulders. “I worry more because of who she was.”
“What do you mean?” Tank shook his head. “She was a witch, right?”
“Yes, but she was like Amelie, a descendant of the founding coven members. For her to be attacked and… and killed,” Selma swallowed hard as if fighting to hold in her grief, “it’s beyond worrisome.”
“You think whoever did this isn’t done?” Tank moved closer to me.
Selma said nothing
I glanced from one to the other. “You two are overreacting. Yes, Melody is dead, and it appears to be an attack of some kind, but there is no plot to take the five of us out. What would be the point? It’s not like we’re the Descendants.”
“You are still extremely powerful witches and warlocks. The blood in your veins means something, Amelie. You must not forget it.”
The blood in my veins was not as strong as Selma assumed, but I dropped it. “I am not going to be scared by this incident. We need to come together now as a coven and grieve for the loss of our sister witch. Give her a proper send-off tomorrow at midnight as is the custom and then use the rest of the week as a time to heal.”
“And track down the party responsible,” Tank insisted. “Selma, I would like to assist if possible.”
