Destiny of the Witch, page 1
Published in Great Britain in 2023 by:
Green Ginger Publishing
Yorkshire, England
Copyright © 2023 Sharon Booth.
Cover design by Deranged Doctor Design
www.derangeddoctordesign.com
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
“And the new sun rose bringing the new year.”
~ Idylls of the King. The Passing of Arthur.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
Contents
Part 1: Before Wulfram
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Part 2: After Lowen
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Irish Terms and Names Used in This Book
Books by Sharon Booth
About the Author
A Note from Sharon
Part 1: Before Wulfram
Chapter 1
Romy
I suppose my part of the story really begins around lunchtime, that day in early July. I was sitting in the living room of our little house in Bartonbrook, on the edge of the Lake District. My boyfriend Johnnie and I were being grudgingly polite to his old friend, Simon, who’d turned up on our doorstep not five minutes after we’d arrived home, after a week away at a hotel in the Scottish Borders.
We hadn’t even had time to make a cup of tea before he’d arrived, and since we’d spent several hours during our time away discussing his increasing intrusion upon our lives, I don’t think either of us was best pleased about it. Still, I made him tea and we sat with him and told him about our break.
We exchanged several puzzled looks, though, realising that he wasn’t his usual self. He seemed distracted, as if there was something far more important on his mind than our little holiday in Scotland. Which begged the question, why had he even bothered to come round?
As I caught John’s eye and saw the apologetic look on his face, I thought the time had come for us to be firmer with Simon. Yes, he’d been helpful to Johnnie in his studies, and yes, they’d been friends for many years, but we needed time alone as a couple. Simon was becoming the third wheel in our relationship, and we needed to make it clear that certain days were going to be just for us.
The question was, which of us would have the nerve to do the deed?
It seems funny now that, at the time, that was the biggest dilemma facing me. I had no idea what was to come. No idea that, at any moment, my life was going to be thrown into chaos.
There was a knock on the front door.
We all looked at each other.
‘Were you expecting company?’ Simon asked politely.
‘No, not at all.’ Johnnie raised an eyebrow at me, and I shook my head, confirming I had no idea who it was.
‘I’ll go,’ he said, and got to his feet.
I heard him opening the front door. I heard a jumble of voices. I recognised a note of panic in them, even as I realised who our unexpected arrivals were.
Then Keely and Harley, my younger sisters, barged into the living room, wide-eyed and red-faced.
And that was the moment my life changed forever.
***
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, startled to see their anxious expressions. ‘What’s happened?’
As a thought occurred to me I held out my hand to Harley.
‘Is it Killian? His family…’
In my anxiety I’d quite forgotten that Johnnie and Simon were sitting there, listening to every word. I blushed. ‘I mean—’
‘Romy, you’ve got to come with us now,’ Keely said, grasping my arm.
‘What for?’ I shrugged her off and gave my boyfriend a nervous look before turning to the twins, my eyes flashing a warning. ‘I can’t just drop everything and go with you. Go with you where, anyway? Have you lost the plot?’
What were they thinking?
John cleared his throat. ‘Why don’t you sit down, both of you? Would you like a cup of tea? I’m sure whatever it is you need Romy for can wait a while.’
‘I’m sure it can’t,’ Keely said, giving him a filthy look which made him rear back in astonishment. She turned to me and said, ‘Either you come with us now or we’ll just take you!’
‘Keely!’
What the hell had got into her? Honestly, she’d always been a bit of a handful but right now I could throttle her. She knew I had to be careful where John was concerned, since he had no idea my sisters were witches, and here she was causing such a scene that he was clearly on alert.
‘I’m sorry,’ John said, hitching up his glasses and trying, bless his heart, to be all masterful and manly, ‘I know you’re her sister but please don’t speak to Romy like that. And what do you mean, you’ll just take her? Have you lost your minds?’
‘Don’t push us,’ Harley warned him. She glared at Simon. ‘You here again? Can’t keep away, can you?’
Simon gave her an appraising look, while John’s mouth fell open in horror.
‘Harley! You can’t speak to my friend like that. He’s—’
‘A liar,’ Harley said. ‘That’s what he is.’
John dropped onto the sofa and we both stared up at them incredulously.
‘What are you doing?’ I demanded, deciding I’d be falling out with my sisters unless they issued a full apology and left our house immediately.
‘Saving your bacon,’ Keely said grimly. She turned back to Simon. ‘You’ve lied to Romy ever since you met her, haven’t you? All this stuff about you and John being friends for years. We both know that’s not true, don’t we? It can’t be true.’
John and I exchanged stunned glances.
‘Romy, have you any idea what they’re talking about?’ he asked weakly.
I wished I could say I did but they’d lost me. I mean, I’ve lived with those two for most of my life, and I’m used to their odd ways and stubborn natures, but this was on another level. They’d barged into my home, been rude and obnoxious to both me and Johnnie, and were now being incredibly rude to our guest.
‘I think you should leave,’ I said. ‘We’ll discuss this another time.’
‘We’re going nowhere,’ Keely said. ‘So go on, Simon, if that’s your real name. Tell us just how come you’ve managed to be friends for years with someone who’s only existed for less than four?’
‘What is she talking about?’ John asked me anxiously. ‘Has she been drinking? Does she do drugs?’
Simon sighed. ‘Well, I can see you’ve realised the truth. However, I would ask that you leave here now and forget all about this. I can fix it for John. This will be all forgotten, and we can continue as we were.’
‘And leave him with our sister?’ Harley demanded. ‘You’ve got a bloody nerve. Who are you anyway?’
‘As I told you, my name’s Simon,’ he said. ‘There’s no need for you to know anything else. Now, I must insist you go home to Castle Lodge right away. Leave this to me.’
How did he know they lived at Castle Lodge? This was getting more surreal by the minute. And what did he mean, he could fix it for John?’
‘Sorry, but you can insist until the cows come home,’ Keely said. ‘It’s not happening. Harley!’
Before I could begin to formulate what they planned to do, I found my arm firmly grasped by Harley, even as I heard John give an indignant cry, as Keely dragged him to his feet and hooked her arm through his.
I heard Simon shout, ‘No, wait, you don’t understand!’
Then he, and our entire house, were gone.
Chapter 2
Lowen
As I sat in the living room of Castle Lodge talking to Jethro, Iliana, Castor, and Killian, I wondered—not for the first time—how my life had come to this. It was only a few months ago that I was an ordinary solicitor, albeit not a very good one, working for Carpenter, Carpenter & Fitch in the little Cornish town of Gerrenporth.
Now, here I was in an Elizabethan manor house, in a North Yorkshire town renowned for its magical legends, chatting to a bestselling fantasy novelist, two witches, and a descendant of old Irish gods. Not to mention the fact that I was apparently not Lowen Ericson after all, but Wulfram Pendragon, descendant of Arthur. The Great Guardian. And to top it all, lying at my feet was a Norwegian Forest cat called Frey, who could communicate with me telepathically.
It had to be a weird dream, right?
But no, it was real enough, and as I listened to Killian explaining to the others Trinity’s reasons for being in Whitby, I thought surely life couldn’t get any more bizarre than this.
I really should have known better.
No sooner had Killian finished than there was a commotion on the stairs and the living room door burst open to reveal a breathless Sky and Celeste. They looked terrified, and my heart sank. Now what?
‘It’s Blaise! He’s back! I mean, he never went away, obviously—well, he did, but only to another county.’ Sky shook her head, impatient with herself. ‘We know where Blaise is!’
‘Well, really,’ Iliana said, wrinkling her nose in distaste, ‘that’s all we need, isn’t it? I’m not sure I want to know. Celeste, are you all right?’
Celeste looked pale and tearful, most unlike her. She was usually so calm and serene that it was upsetting to see her in such a state, even given her recent outburst of guilt as she blamed herself for Trinity’s excursion to Whitby.
‘Of course she’s not all right,’ Sky said. ‘How can she be? Did you not hear what I just said? Blaise is back!’
‘Do you mean here?’ Jethro sounded nervous. He glanced up at the ceiling, as if expecting to hear the infamous Blaise St Clair striding across the landing above him. I followed his gaze and noticed Celeste’s and Hector’s ravens, Belasko and Branwen, sitting on a beam, their heads tilted, clearly listening to this conversation with keen interest.
‘Of course not! He’s—’
Sky broke off as Hector arrived at that moment. He quickly glanced around, saw the state of Celeste, and went straight over to her.
‘What is it? What’s happened?’
Celeste gave a strangled sob and rested her head on his chest, while we all looked on in alarm.
This was clearly a massive deal to her, and who could blame her? I’d been told the story of Blaise St Clair and his arrival in Castle Clair some three-and-a-half years ago. He’d broken all the rules by travelling through time from 1669 and had arrived in the River Hrafn on Christmas Eve night. Jethro had pulled him from the water and nearly drowned in the process.
Unknown to the St Clairs, Hector—who they later discovered was a Guardian—had removed Blaise’s magic and gone back to 1669 himself to clear up the mess Blaise had left behind. Blaise had lost his memory as well as his magic, and after an enquiry by the High Council of Witches, he’d been allowed to live at Castle Lodge with the family.
What they hadn’t realised was that he had gradually recovered his memory and had been plotting to time travel again, using Celeste, an extremely powerful and gifted witch who, unfortunately for her, was in love with him at the time, to help him. If it hadn’t been for Hector, and—astonishingly—Star’s non-magical husband Benedict, he might well have succeeded in his mission and done untold damage.
After some consultation, Hector had removed Blaise’s memories of his old life and replaced them with false memories, giving him another identity. He’d then been handed to the care of another Guardian and taken away to start a whole new life. Even so, it seemed Celeste still blamed herself for her part in events, even though it was clearly not her fault.
Anyway, it seemed that something had gone badly wrong. Something else to worry about. Perfect.
‘Hector, we know where Blaise is,’ Sky said urgently.
He looked round at us all and nodded. ‘So do I.’
Sky deflated, disappointed that her big news was no surprise to him. ‘Oh, really? That sucks,’ she said glumly, bending to pick up her black cat, Belle, who was clearly in need of a cuddle.
‘Would someone please explain what’s going on?’ Iliana asked. ‘Does Blaise have something to do with what happened to Zephyr? Or Trinity?’ She closed her eyes. ‘Please don’t say he’s the one who’s got Trinity.’
‘Blaise hasn’t got anyone,’ Hector said reassuringly. ‘He’s nothing to do with either of those events—well, not directly anyway—and he still has no idea who he really is. He’s no threat to anyone.’
‘You know Trinity’s missing then?’ Jethro asked, and I realised he was right to ask. Hector had, after all, already gone off to meet some of the other Guardians before Sirius and I got back from Whitby, after our failed attempt to find Trinity.
Except she wasn’t Trinity, was she? Not really. She was Linnet, and she was my twin sister. The twin sister I’d only learned about recently, and whose identity had only been revealed less than a week ago at Killian and Harley’s wedding.
I rubbed my forehead, exhausted. How had it only been less than a week? It felt as if I’d known her all my life, and the thought of what she might be going through right now terrified me.
‘Do you know where she is then?’ I begged. ‘Is she safe?’
Hector steered Celeste over to the sofa and they both sat down.
‘We don’t know where Trinity is,’ he admitted. ‘We do know she was definitely last seen in Whitby, at the foot of the hundred and ninety-nine steps.’ He gave us a bleak look. ‘I’m sorry, but we have every reason to believe she was taken by the fae.’
I saw the horror and despair on the others’ faces that I knew was reflected in mine. If Trinity was in the hands of the fae then she had no chance. Look what they’d done to Zephyr! If they could murder the leader of the High Council of Witches so easily then how could Trinity, who had no magic, possibly defend herself against them?
‘You say you have every reason to believe the fae took her,’ Castor said grimly. ‘What reasons? What makes you think it?’
‘Hang on,’ I said, suddenly noticing Keely’s familiar and Frey’s half-sister, Runa, sitting in a corner of the room with Harley’s guinea pig, Sid, close beside her. ‘Where’s Keely and Harley? Why haven’t they come galloping down the stairs with you two? Not like Keely to miss out on some big news like you figuring out where Blaise is.’
‘Er, that’s what we were about to tell you before Hector arrived,’ Sky admitted sheepishly. ‘They’ve gone to Cumbria to tell Romy the news and to confront Blaise if necessary.’
Hector groaned. ‘That’s all we need! Why can’t they leave well alone?’
‘Wait,’ Iliana said, ‘what has Romy got to do with Blaise?’
‘You’ll never believe this,’ Celeste said wearily. ‘Blaise—he’s—’
‘Here!’ Sky let out a squeal and we all jumped as we realised Keely and Harley had arrived. Harley was arm in arm with Romy, and John was being gripped tightly by a grim-faced Keely. He looked absolutely petrified and no wonder. I’ve seen that expression on Keely’s face before and it’s enough to make the bravest man tremble, trust me.
‘Are you okay, Johnnie?’ I asked him, recognising the fear in his eyes all too well.
I was about to go to him to reassure him, but I was stopped by Iliana’s cry of, ‘Blaise St Clair! I hoped I’d never set eyes on you again.’
I think my mouth dropped open in shock as I stared at the mild-mannered John Ford, Romy’s pleasant and kind-hearted boyfriend. I’d had some interesting chats with him when we stayed at his and Romy’s cottage in Bartonbrook, and I’d really liked him. Were they seriously telling me that this man was the arrogant and devious Blaise St Clair?
‘Will someone please explain what’s going on?’ he begged, as Keely dragged him into a chair and stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. ‘How did I get here? Am I dreaming?’ He gazed up at Romy. ‘What’s happening?’
Romy seemed unable to speak. She was staring at him as if she didn’t recognise him.
