Shadow's Reflection, page 3
part #1 of Stonebridge Witches - Book Two Series
By the time they reached the forest proper, the snow had begun to thicken, blanketing the ground in a white layer of soft flakes that silenced their steps. The trees reached for the sky, their branches coated in a frosting of snow, glinting in the drab daylight.
There was a stillness to the woods that June hadn’t noticed before, an eerie quiet that echoed around them. She pushed aside the uneasy feeling, remembering Elaine’s advice to not fear nature. As a witch, she had the power to meld elemental forces, not cower before them.
“Isn’t it just magical?” Harriet breathed out, her breath forming clouds that mingled with the winter air.
“Yeah,” June agreed, looking up at the silent snowflakes floating around them. There was an undercurrent in the air, something that tugged at the edges of her awareness—a whispering thread of power that seemed to beckon to her.
As they continued deeper into the woods, the crunch of their boots on the fresh snow echoed, twisting with the occasional snap of a branch or hoot of a distant owl. Despite the beauty of the scene, June couldn’t shake off the feeling that every step they took drew them closer to something unseen, something that stirred restlessly in the shadows.
Harriet, oblivious to her friend’s anxiety, was chattering away about the upcoming Christmas market and the pantomime—both of which were a big deal to Stonebridge, and the event of the year by the sound of it.
Then, as they rounded a bend in the path, June halted. In a small clearing, partially obscured by a thin veil of falling snow, lay an array of objects arranged in a pattern that was anything but random—a ritual.
Harriet, too engrossed in her speculation of who would be playing what role in The Wizard of OZ, had yet to notice, and June felt a surge of protectiveness.
“Wait,” June said, grasping her friend’s arm to stop her.
Harriet gasped as she saw the remains on the ground. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah, it is. A poor cat.” June grimaced. “Don’t touch it.”
“I didn’t plan on it! Oh, the poor thing.” She edged around the ritual site, unaware of the truth of what she was looking at. “I’d heard the rumours about what people were doing out here, but I thought most of them were stupid conspiracy theories. I can’t believe someone would do such a thing!”
June said nothing as she carefully approached the ritual remains, not wanting to disturb the remnants left behind.
Candle stubs, their wax marred with strange inscriptions, were scattered amongst wilted flowers and symbols etched into the earth, symbols that were already filling with snow. The air here was different—charged. June crouched down to examine the setup without touching anything, her eyes scanning for details that might reveal the purpose of such a ritual.
“Who would do something like this?” Harriet asked. “I know there’s the whole thing about your parents—” She broke off, her eyes widening. “June, I’m sorry! I don’t mean…”
“That’s okay,” she murmured. “I know the rumours about their deaths and the stupid internet conspiracies about devil worship. They don’t bother me.”
They kind of did, but after what’d happened to her parents had been reported on in the papers, the stories had become wilder and wilder. Then, before anyone knew it, the story was so large and full of misinformation it was impossible to contain. It didn’t help that there were creepy stories about the forests around Stonebridge—stories about hauntings, witches, and demonic infestations…some of which were based on truth.
“What is it for, anyway?” Harriet went on. “Summoning demons? Who in their right mind would believe any of that is real?”
“You’d be surprised.”
The forest seemed to hold its breath, and in that moment of quiet, June made her choice.
“Let me take a closer look,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. “Maybe it’s just some kids messing around with things they don’t understand.”
“Be careful,” Harriet cautioned, her gaze lingering on the odd arrangement.
June waited for Harriet to step back, feigning a closer inspection of the symbols, so she could angle herself between her friend and the ritual.
With Harriet’s view obscured, June allowed her senses to expand. A deep breath inhaled the crisp winter air, but with it, she drew in the latent energies swirling invisibly around the site. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum calling her to forbidden rhythms. Eyes half-closed, she whispered a silent incantation, an invocation for clarity—words taught to her by Alistair in one of their many lessons in the basics of witchcraft.
The world shifted.
Beneath the blanket of snow, the earth hummed with remnants of dark intent. The candles, though extinguished, flickered again in June’s mind, their flames casting elongated shadows across her thoughts. Each symbol pulsed, a beacon that tainted the ground with its touch.
June felt it then—a residue of power that clung to her skin like cobwebs. It was not the benign whisper of nature’s magic or the comforting warmth of a healing spell. This was colder, a chilling echo that spoke of boundaries crossed and dark promises. She shivered, not from the cold, but from remembrance.
“Find anything?” Harriet’s voice jolted June back to the present, her magic retreating as quickly as it’d risen.
“Nothing,” June replied, straightening up and brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Probably just a prank. I mean, it’s right here on the path. That cat looks like an old Halloween decoration. Plastic.”
“Good, because it’s giving me the creeps,” Harriet admitted, wrapping her arms around herself. “Let’s keep walking. I’m freezing here.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” June agreed, all too eager to distance them from the ritual site. She’d have to tell Alistair and Elaine about what they’d stumbled across so the coven could investigate, because it certainly wasn’t a plastic Halloween decoration.
As they moved away, June remained on high alert. The woods seemed to hold their breath, the usual rustling and chirping strangely muted as if the creatures had recognised the same disturbance she had. Snowflakes drifted down, blanketing the ground and sinister artefacts alike.
June’s hand brushed against the rough bark of a pine tree, the sensation bringing her back to the physical world and drawing her away from the lingering energy of the ritual. She scanned the woods, piercing through the white veil that sought to conceal more than just the forest floor.
“Are you okay?” Harriet’s voice cut through the stillness, her brows knitting together.
“Fine,” June lied smoothly, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just…it’s beautiful here, isn’t it? So much more peaceful than the parks in London.”
Harriet smiled back, but with a touch of scepticism that June couldn’t blame her for. She’d always been sharp, even without the edge of magic.
“We’re closer to the real world here,” Harriet said with a chuckle. “London might have their fancy parks and heaths, but the city is never far away.”
June nodded and continued down the path, putting more distance between them and the ritual.
They continued in relative silence, the only sound their footsteps crunching in the fresh snow. But for June, another layer of noise was creeping in, an almost invisible whisper that grew steadily with each step.
The closer they got to the heart of the forest, the more inescapable the whispers became. June could feel it—a malevolent gaze tracking their progress, the same one she’d felt in the twilight the night before with Elaine.
“Did you hear that?” June stopped mid-step.
“Hear what?” Harriet paused, tilting her head.
“Nothing, it’s probably just the wind.” June forced herself to move forward, but her magical instincts screamed in protest.
If she’d learned one thing from Alistair in the last couple of months, it was that she should never ignore her intuition. A sense of urgency flooded her veins, the need to protect Harriet, the town, and the fragile peace that lingered between the coven and the Mayor.
Whoever had been performing those rituals either knew exactly what they were doing, or were dabbling in something they didn’t understand and got lucky.
June swept her gaze around the frosted woods with newfound wariness. The whispers grew louder yet remained unintelligible, like an unreadable, spectral language that echoed through the trees.
“Let’s head back to town,” she suggested, rubbing her hands together for warmth. “It’s getting colder and I could really go for some hot chocolate right about now.”
“Oh, good idea!” Harriet chuckled, but as they hastened their steps back toward civilisation, June couldn’t shake the feeling of unseen eyes boring into her back, nor could she ignore the soft, mocking laughter that danced with the falling snow.
As they reached the edge of the woods, June fumbled for her phone in her pocket, her fingers numb from the biting cold. This time, instead of taking things into her own hands, she’d let Alistair know what they’d found.
She tapped out a message and hit send, smiling as Harriet began chattering about the latest book she’d been reading, giving a hearty review of the romantic subplot. The oppressive energy lingering in the woods had lifted, allowing them to enjoy the fluttering snow and the glittering Christmas decorations that were beginning to appear all over Stonebridge.
At least it’s not touching town yet, June thought. But it was only a matter of time if they were allowed to continue.
Alistair’s response was fast—a surprise, considering his aversion to technology. Thanks, June. I’ll look into it.
“I hope Lucas is going to make those Christmas tree gingerbread cookies again this year,” Harriet was saying. “Whatever his recipe is, it’s the best.”
June hummed in agreement, feigning a smile as they approached The Corner. She looked over her shoulder and down the lane they’d just walked along, her skin prickling.
The snow was falling heavier now, soft white flakes that blanketed the town in a hushed silence. Everything looked so beautiful, so untouched. She hoped it could stay that way, at least until after Christmas.
Chapter 4
Frost crystals clung to tree branches, scattering weak sunlight through the snow-laden forest. June’s breath misted before her in thick clouds, and she pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, the wool scratchy against her chin.
“Remember, it’s all about balance,” Elaine’s voice cut through the stillness of the woods. Her curly hair peeked out from beneath her knitted hat, while her mismatched jewellery tinkled softly with each purposeful step she took toward the clearing.
June nodded, following in Elaine’s footsteps, the witches leaving twin trails in the untouched snow. The cold bit at her cheeks, but she was determined to stay focused.
“Look beyond the ice,” Elaine instructed, gesturing at the frozen earth. “Feel the water that waits beneath, the streams that flow even when they’re not seen.”
Closing her eyes, June extended her hands, palms facing the ground. She drew in a slow breath, concentrating on the sensation of the cold seeping into her skin, reaching deeper into the soil where life persisted despite the freeze. A murmur of ancient energy whispered to her senses, resonating with her own.
“Good,” Elaine encouraged. “Now, imagine that energy as a thread—like a spiderweb, thin yet strong. Weave it with your intent.”
June pictured the thread in her mind’s eye, luminous and strong. She tugged gently, coaxing the water up from where it was hidden. At first, there was only the faintest tremor in the air, then a shimmering droplet emerged, quivering like jelly.
“Steady,” Elaine murmured. “Guide it, don’t force it. Magic is the art of persuasion, not coercion.”
With a deepening focus, June drew more water from the earth, feeling it respond to her silent plea. It spiralled upward, forming a swirl of droplets around her fingers. The water caught the dying rays of the sun, casting prismatic colours onto the surrounding snow.
“Brilliant,” Elaine declared. “You’re harmonising with the elements beautifully.”
June opened her eyes, and the sight of the water dancing at her command filled her with pride. She knew she’d barely scratched the surface of her abilities, but she felt her confidence growing.
“Control is key,” Elaine continued. “Harnessing power is one thing, and wielding it is another.”
“I’m surprised that it hasn’t exploded yet,” June said. “The way my magic has been acting—”
“No, no,” Elaine interrupted, her eyes shining with excitement. “Don’t doubt your magic. It responds to you and your state of mind. If you expect instability, then that’s what you’ll get.”
June nodded, swallowing her apprehension as she returned her gaze to the hovering water. She could do this.
The droplets exploded suddenly into a shower of ice, scattering across the frozen ground in fractal patterns.
June flinched, pulling back her hands in surprise. She looked apologetically toward Elaine, who was brushing a few ice shards from her coat. The older witch’s eyes held no reprimand, just amusement. “Too much juice, June.” She chuckled. “There are times for stabbing ice bullets, but you’ve got to know when to pull the trigger!”
“Sorry,” June muttered, her cheeks heating. She took a deep breath, ready to try again.
“Patience,” Elaine said. She pointed at the droplets of ice still on the ground. “Now, let’s see you gather them. Remember, work with nature, not against it. I know I keep repeating myself, but it’s key.”
June closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the chill of the air fill her lungs. As she exhaled, she imagined her breath as a warm breeze, urging the water back into a coherent shape. The ice shards trembled and then slid together, reforming into a small glistening sphere that floated up to hover before her once more…but as she opened her eyes, the water disintegrated into a fine mist that blew away in the breeze.
“Damn it,” she cursed.
“It seems you’re distracted.” Elaine’s expression softened, and she tilted her head slightly. “What’s troubling you?”
June hesitated, flexing her fingers. “When I was walking with Harriet yesterday, we stumbled across the remains of a dark ritual,” she explained. “I felt something wrong. Like something was watching us.”
Elaine’s eyebrows rose.
“I don’t know,” June admitted. “But it was creepy. I told Alistair about it, but it’s been bothering me ever since. What if someone is trying to summon something they shouldn’t?”
“Alistair knows what he’s doing,” Elaine replied. “If something truly came from the ritual, then he’ll know what to do about it. We’ll keep an eye out, but let’s focus on what we can control for now. That’s the beauty of being a part of a coven. Shared workload.”
June nodded, though her eyes remained clouded with worry. “Shadows have a way of sticking around, though.”
“True, but vigilance is our ally. Fear, however, clouds the mind and weakens the spell.” Elaine reached out, placing a reassuring hand on June’s shoulder.
Before she could voice her thoughts further, the sound of crunching snow drew their attention to a figure emerging from the tree line, moving as silent as the falling snow.
Mirabel, bundled tightly in a plum-coloured coat and black leather gloves, approached them with a serene grace that seemed to command the essence of the forest. She was the Stonebridge coven’s matriarch, after all.
“Ah, June, Elaine,” Mirabel greeted. Her long silver hair fell around her shoulders, the hue matching the flakes of snow that caught in the strands. “I see your training is going well.”
“Mirabel,” June said, straightening up. “Yeah, I seem to be making some progress.”
Elaine chuckled and shook her head. “She’s doing very well.”
“Elemental magic requires harmony with nature,” Mirabel stated. “And I can see you’re beginning to understand that connection.” She extended a hand, and the surrounding air seemed to shimmer, responding to her unspoken command.
A flurry of snow formed a sparkling curtain around them, and then as quick as it came, the sudden storm stilled, leaving the three witches standing in a ring of soft ice crystals.
“Show off,” Elaine said with a laugh.
“Speaking of showing off,” Mirabel went on, her gaze drifting toward the evergreens dusted with a gentle layer of snow, “it’s almost time for the Yule celebrations. The markets will be open in town, and the coven will perform our annual rituals.”
June’s eyes widened. “The Yule rituals?” She knew a little about them, as her parents took part when she was a child, but that was a sacred time for adults that was full of complex spells and rituals.
“Yes,” Mirabel replied. “A time when we reinforce the wards, when we weave spells to protect Stonebridge and its people through the longest nights. Our magic blesses all with prosperity and peace. It’s a tradition the coven has upheld for centuries. And this year, it’s your turn to learn the ways of our ancestors, how we honour the old customs while embracing the new.”
“Me?” June whispered. Her heart swelled at the thought of standing alongside her fellow witches, contributing to the ancient rites that’d safeguarded their community for generations.
“Yes, you!” The matriarch laughed. “You’re a fledgling witch, but you’re still part of the coven. You have a place at the rituals.”
“Your heritage calls on you, June, as it has all witches of Stonebridge,” Elaine added.
June was silent for a moment, taking in the weight of their words. This was what she’d wanted, and what she’d been missing since she’d run away from Stonebridge. Belonging and understanding.
“Elaine has been guiding you well,” Mirabel observed, “but for the Yule preparations, Alistair will assist you further. Visit him at the apothecary as soon as you’re able. He’ll explain what you’ll need to do.”
“Okay.” The mention of Alistair brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. “I will. And I… I also have some questions for him about the ritual site Harriet and I found.”
