A Witch's Trial (Witch's Path Series: Book 3) (2 page)

"Sorry," he said.

"It happens," I said.
 

Mom sighed and set down her fork. "Michelle, I know something is bothering you. You're still my child, but you are an adult, and I trust you to tell me in your own time. This is a less-than-ideal time to mention it, but there's something Greg and I need to discuss with you."

I sat there with a forkful of mushrooms halfway to my mouth. The fork came to rest against the plate, and I tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind. I was numb, insulated from shock by virtue of pain. In the seconds she took to look at Greg and steady her nerves, I didn't have the energy to speculate or worry about the next blow to my ragged life.

She focused on some point over my head and started talking. "As you know, we want to get married. We would like you to come to the wedding and reception."

"When are you getting married?" I was so glad they'd told me about wanting to get married before now. I hadn't had time to think about it, but time did make the idea less startling. Besides, they might not have done everything right, but they'd tried to do their best for me. It was hard to fight against that kind of love.

"Two weeks from tomorrow," Mom said.

"Two weeks? That's not much warning."
 

Dad looked over at me. "We would have given you more warning, but this is sudden for us too."

"But you just mentioned marriage the other day…" My voice trailed off, lacking heat.

"We told you as soon as we made the decision," Mom said firmly.

I moved my jaw, but nothing came out. Clearing my throat solved the issues and gave me a moment to gather my thoughts. "Eh, um… I think I need some time to get used to the idea."

*******

I woke up feeling foggy and tired. Halfway through my shower, I began to feel human and my brain started working. Yesterday's pain rushed back, and it was all I could do to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn't help my eyes or my mental state. It took some deep breathing, but I calmed my thoughts and put some distance between myself and the heartache. It wasn't a solution, but it would buy me some time.
 

In my head, Landa was tartly informing me that I needed to face my emotions so I could grow and heal. Hiding was a temporary solution. She was right, and Elron was a prime example of avoidance not leading to a resolution. No matter how much I wanted to pretend the past few days hadn't happened, I needed to find my peace with recent events.
 

On my way out of my room, a piece of paper crinkled underfoot. Kneeling down, I picked it up and unfolded the page. It was a note from Mom, reminding me that the two of them would be at work. I was to make myself comfortable and stay as long as I liked.
 

After breakfast, I curled up on the sofa with a novel, but I couldn't keep my mind on the story. Between the Elron, Sylvia, her diary, and the demon, there was plenty to think about, and the more I thought about it, the less sense it made.
 

It just so happened that Sylvia could hide her actions from Gremory. She'd also hidden the journal from him for years and presumably carried it to Adder's house without the demon noticing. Her husband was, conveniently, the elf staying in the apartment next to mine. On top of that, I could share dreams with Elron, and Sylvia had managed to invade my own dreams. Could coincidence really stretch so far?

Perhaps I had the right of it and more than chance was at play. Elron had a Call, which was reason enough for him to be tangled in this mess. I didn't know enough about the Calling to judge how much of his involvement was due to that. If logic applied, then perhaps I was on a similar path. After all, I did have the mark of an Ieldra.
 

Abandoning any pretense of reading, I went into the kitchen and made myself a brew. With any luck, it would reduce the pounding in my temples. I must've done a good job, because I relaxed enough to fall asleep shortly after lying down.

When Mom came home, I was crying again. She gently pulled me onto her lap and stroked my hair. I must have drifted off again—at some point I should start to feel rested, but right now I couldn't get past the groggy, fuzzy feelings. I blamed the emotional turmoil. It wasn't good for the body.
 

I opened my eyes to find my father kneeling down in front of me, a steaming mug of tea in his hand.
 

"Will you please talk to us? We want to help."

Nodding, I tucked myself against the arm of the couch with a blanket tossed over my lap and feet, my hands curled around the tea. Mom patted my foot before getting up stiffly. Dad took her place, a cup of tea in his hands. He didn't say anything as he watched me take a few sips. Mom returned and sat in a chair across from the couch.
 

"I'm not sure it's my story to tell." I found the courage to speak, but I couldn't breathe the important words into the world; it would give them weight and power.
 

My mother spoke before the silence could grow heavy. "You're an adult now, and I can respect that, but as a mother, I want to know what made my baby cry."

"And as a father, I want to know who to pummel." Dad said the words lightly, but the look on his face told a different story.
 

I needed to tell someone who could help me make sense of things, and my parents usually had good insight. "It's a difficult series of events to explain, so please be patient with me."

So I told them of the dream with the woman who had strange eyes and of the night we rescued Amber, this time including details I'd left out before, like the woman dropping the book. I still didn't mention the part about having seen her in my dreams. I had to take a gulp of tea before I told them most of what was in the book. Then I told them about giving it to Elron and how the last entry had hit him hard.

I tried to phrase the last part so they didn't think we were in a relationship. It might be odd for me to be this upset about hurting a friend, but I didn't want to answer questions about dating a man older than either of them. It was hard to tell if it worked, but they didn't focus on that part of the story, maybe because the demon was a powerful distraction.

"Like I said, I don't know if anything in that book was the truth. It doesn't seem plausible," I finished. Perhaps Sylvia's story was unlikely, but it did explain things. I sat there, watching them watch me, and I knew my life was about to get a lot more complicated.
 

"Michelle," Mom asked, "what did you say the book said?" Her knuckles were white, and her fingers were digging into the arms of the chair.

"It said a demon was using Sylvia as its host." Each time I said it out loud the reality of the situation hit me a little harder. There was a demon, and his name was Gremory.
 

"Are you sure that's what the book said?" Dad asked.
 

I nodded. Twisting the mug in my hands, I tried to find a warm spot, but the tea wasn't hot enough to sooth this worry. "It stated clearly, on several occasions, that the demon wanted Sylvia for a reason, something about her being a more resilient host. It also said the demon rotated between Sylvia and a male host." I swallowed. "I know what the book says, but you always told me that demons are extinct."

"That is the story," Dad said. "Demons have faded into lore for that very reason. I may be able to find some books that have information on them, but that's the extent of my knowledge."

"What if the book is wrong and there isn't a demon?" Mom's voice wavered.

For some reason, I had the feeling she was clinging to any hope that this wasn't as serious as it sounded. Even though I didn't believe my words, I told her what she needed to hear. "That's a possibility."

"There's no way to tell if the story is fact or fiction. Normally it isn't much of an issue. You can check the work against other sources and research the author. In this case… I don't know if there are reliable sources. Even if there are, Nancy could be right. The book could be a diversion to keep you occupied while this woman causes trouble." Dad frowned and tapped his fingers.
 

A few minutes passed while we all reflected on the situation. At least, I assumed that's what they were thinking about. I was working on keeping my mind empty. Every time a thought crept in, it made me feel worse. Demon or no demon, Sylvia or impostor, they each came with their own set of worries and issues. And when those thoughts came to mind, I couldn't help but think about Elron. I could still hear his sobs, an expression of pain I couldn't put into words.

"I doubt there is a demon running around town. Even if some survived, why would they have waited this long to show themselves? They've been relegated to lore for years. And really, why pick Ellijay?" Dad asked.

Forcing my lips into a smile, I said, "Why Ellijay indeed. It wouldn't be high on my list of places to start trouble. The town is close enough to other towns and large cities to ask for help, and small enough to be unimportant."

"Exactly. It's still worth researching, and being prepared. I've no doubt evil is causing trouble, but a demon? That doesn't add up," Dad said.

The corners of Mom's mouth weren't pinched, and Dad wasn't frowning anymore. If that logic made them feel better, good for them. I didn't buy it.
 

I forced my body to relax against the sofa and replied, "When you say it like that—the stress had made it hard to get perspective on these things."

They nodded, nearly in unison. There, I'd managed to agree without telling a blatant lie. If only I believed those words.

*******

I knew it was a dream from the moment it started. It couldn't be reality, because in the real world Elron was alone in his room, grieving, and I was in bed trying to block out my own pain.

Right now I was standing next to the pond of glow koi fish, gazing into Elron's blue eyes. His hand gently cupped my cheek, and he smiled as he pressed his lips against mine.
 

He pulled back enough to whisper, "Oh, Michelle."

If he said anything else, I didn't hear it.

We broke apart, breathless. He sat on a rock at the edge of the pond and pulled me down beside him. Minutes ticked by as we soaked in the atmosphere. The sun was setting, and through the glass we could see the red and orange lights of its evening show. Across the path, a giant healing aloe plant emitted a glow that cycled through different shades from a light mint to a hunter green.

"Look." Elron pointed at a tree limb above us where three hummingbirds had gathered. As we watched, a purple one chirped, and the tree of them began, well, humming like a human would. It was akin to the sound I would make if I was humming, but it was soft and enticing, a blend of human humming and gentle guitar music. The sound alone would've made it remarkable, but to hear three small birds trade off harmonies, melodies, and the rotating parts took the performance from lovely to fantastical.

"You didn't tell me you had singing hummingbirds." If he had, I would've rushed over to see them. They were rare and, other than their distinctive song, were indistinguishable from their mundane, if anything that colorful and remarkable could be called such, cousins.
 

"I did not wish to get your hopes up. There was no reason to expect them to stay. They were inside, flittering from bloom to bloom, when I arrived at work three days ago. The vent has been left open in case they want to leave. So far they have not been inclined to do so."
 

"I hope they stay." The birds synchronized their song, finished with a three-note crescendo, and zoomed away.

Turning to look at him, I smiled. At that moment, I was happy. Totally and completely overcome with joy and contentment. "Thank you. This was magical." Laughing, I tried to properly express my feelings. "This place is always magical, by the nature of the plants and creatures, but tonight was special. Thank you."

He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. "A magical woman deserves nothing less than a magical evening."
 

Three small lights zipped over to me, twisting around me, darting under my arms.
 

"All right, all right! I'm coming." I hopped up and conjured six lights of my own, sending three to play with the lights circling me and directing the rest to play with the glittering apricot hibiscus. Giggling, I let the lights chase me to the back of the greenhouse. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elron's posture change.

As I neared the hibiscus, flashes shone through the leaves of the surrounding vegetation. Rounding a corner in the path, I found the tree awash with lights. My three sparks were playing with the tree's wisps. They swirled around me, then darted in to touch my skin and left a tingle behind.

Giggling and smiling, I played with the tree, teasing its lights with glitters of my own, pushing them with gentle puffs of air. My ears caught the hum of the birds, and the background music shifted into something new. Before I knew it, I was dancing with a dozen sparkles as my partner. Turning and swaying, I caught site of Elron standing at the bend in the path, looking at me with an expression that was shifting from bemused to stunned.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I pushed the lights away from me as I approached him.

"It's you," he said. "It's always been you."

Puzzled, I came to a stop a few feet from him.

"This shall be a wretched mess when my conscious mind reaches this realization."

His gaze was sharp and his eyes glad, but I didn't trust him. Our dreams, be they shared or not, had never progressed like this for me. I couldn't read him. His open expression had been replaced with his version of a poker face, the arrogant mask he'd worn when we first met.
 

"Perhaps you could enlighten me." Even as I said it, I knew I wasn't going to like what I heard. If Elron's conscious mind wasn't involved in this dream, his actions were based on his subconscious. Logically, I knew that only parts of our brain were involved in our dreams, but to the best of my knowledge, I always remembered what happened.