Black Moon (The Moonlight Trilogy) (29 page)

While they waited for the
Covenant, Simon left Willa sitting in the grass with Koda and checked several more headstones, but found nothing. He knew he wouldn
’
t, but he still had to look.

As unsettling as this discovery was and how strangely Willa reacted, he was relieved to have something to think about other than his tongue-in-cheek revelation to Willa about enjoying his power.
She must think I
’
m some kind of psycho.
He stopped to stare out over the field of headstones.
Maybe I am.
Yes, training helped
a little
. Yes, Rowan
’
s guidance was surprisingly astute; but while part of Simon felt relieved by the effects of training, the other only worried more. If he learned to control his powers, he could use them more efficiently. And if he learned to enjoy instead of fear, it would be easy. He didn
’
t know if he
’
d be able to hold back in a fight, to resist the urge to use everything in his arsenal. What if the next time he used it on purpose?

“Simon!”

He looked up to see the other witches at the gate. He waved them over. Charlotte trotted past him to sit with Willa and put a comforting arm around her. Rowan stopped next to Simon, his face pale and drawn.

“
Any luck
at Archard
’
s house?” Simon asked in a hushed tone.

Rowan heaved a sigh. “Nothing. The house was empty and looked like it hadn
’
t been lived in for months.”

Simon shook his head. “
Well, I
’
m afraid we found something here, and it has Willa really freaked out.”

“Show me.”

Simon led the group over to the headstones of the deceased witches, knelt, and pushed aside the grass. The symbol, the size of a quarter, glared back from the gray surface of the stone of Ruby and Charles
’
grave. At the sight of it, Wynter gasped.

“What does it mean?” Simon asked.

Stroking his beard, Rowan said, “Well, the obvious: it means death. Necromancers—Dark witches known for trying to raise the dead—used that symbol.” He squinted at the mark. “But that was centuries ago. Necromancers no longer exist because the spells were all wiped out by Light witches. Too many terrible accidents.”

“That mark looks fresh,” Wynter said.

“It is.” Willa spoke up from her spot on the grass. Koda sat panting beside her, refusing to leave her side. “I
’
ve been here a hundred times and
that
”—she pointed to the mark—“is definitely new.” She patted Koda
’
s head, her eyes trained on the headstones. “Archard took them, like he took Solace,” she said quietly.

Next to her, Charlotte started and leaned forward to look at Willa
’
s face. “What are you talking about?”

Willa
’
s jaw tensed for a moment as if the words would be painful to say. “I think Archard took Solace and the ghosts of these witches. He did it on the full moon—it
’
s what caused the snow.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “The voices we heard—it was them. Asking for my help.” Her face screwed up with emotion.

Rowan squatted in front of Willa and nodded to Koda; the wolf nodded back. “Willa, why would you think that?”

Willa looked pas
t Rowan, up to Simon. He had figured her sensitivity to the marks was just her instincts, but the look on her face said there was more to it than that. “I only told you a small part of that dream I had about Solace with Archard and the other witch.”

Simon narrowed his eyes, sensing the awful tremor of fear in her. “What else happened?” he asked.

She wetted her lips and exhaled. “I
’
ll show you.” She turned to Rowan. “All of you.” Then to Simon again, “Can you get my dream cradle out of my bag? It
’
s in the Jeep.”

Willa cupped the velvety blue
pouch in her hands, staring down at the black side-ways looking eye symbol on the outside. The scents of lavender and sage drifted up to her nose. The weight of the moonstone inside pressed into her palm.

Only once before had she shown her coven-mates one of her dreams. Last time, they were desperate to find Simon and Wynter, and her dream about Simon standing in a cave had done nothing to help. What she would show them probably couldn
’
t help either, but they needed to see it.

Koda nudged her with his snout, and she stood up. Simon put himself next to her and briefly brushed his hand along her hip. “Do you need help?”

“No,” she shook her head. Loosening the purse strings, she pulled out the moonstone, milky white and as big as her
palm
.

Wynter moved to her other side. “I put up a blocking spell, so no one walking by will see us. You can start now.”

Willa inhaled, long and slow, closing her eyes for a moment. She didn
’
t want to relive this dream, to see the ancient witch cross over from the mist of sleep to the sunshine of this place.

After a roll of her shoulders, she lifted the stone out in front of her and said the spell that would bring her dream to life. “
Dream cradle, reveal your nighttime keep. Moonstone, show what you hold deep.”

The stone grew warm, then hot, bursting to life with a blinding flash of light. The light flickered a few times, like an old movie projector. The Twelve Acres Cemetery fell to the background, and an ancient graveyard, black and foggy, materialized as if from a thick fog.

The dream progressed in silvery shadows. The Dark witch crested a hill, a moonstone in his hand, this one etched with the death’s head. Willa shivered as he pulled the ghosts from their graves, hooking them like fish on a line with his twisted magic. When he ravaged the townspeople of their souls, she wished Simon would step closer and put his arms around her. She dared to turn her head and look at him. A strange expression contorted his face, a mixture of emotions and thoughts she couldn
’
t identify. His eyes darted back and forth, following the movements of the witch.

Finally, the witch boxed up his plundered souls and the dream switched to a new scene: this, the one Willa had mentioned: Archard and the Dark witch flanking Solace. Solace, in her purple dress and curls, hung her head, slumped forward as if asleep standing up. The Dark witches stared forward with looks of triumph and satisfaction.

Willa
’
s bones grew stiff with cold. She looked away.

She was surprised to find Simon standing right next to her, gazing at the ancient witch with a curious expression. The moonstone flickered off, the light retreating. She lowered her arm, continuing to look at Simon.

“That
’
s the witch you
’
ve been dreaming about?” he whispered, his eyes focused on the spot where the dream had appeared.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Simon turned to look at her, his eyes pinched, forehead wrinkled. He took her hand. “I
’
m so sorry.”

Rowan interrupted by saying, “I didn
’
t know that was possible—pulling souls from the grave.” He reached out to steady himself on a tall headstone.

“It shouldn
’
t be,” Darby hissed.

“Who is that?” Rain asked, her arms hugged tight around her torso.

“
I don’
t know,” Willa answered. “Wynter mentioned legends about a witch named Bartholomew the Dark, but I have no way to know for sure.” She slipped the moonstone back into the dream cradle. “I started seeing him in my dreams the night Simon was attacked on the cliff.”

Rowan nodded. “I see why you believe Archard has taken ghosts. If he somehow discovered that other witch
’
s magic . . .” A chilled wind moved through the cemetery. Koda gave a low growl.

“But why?” Wynter said. “What’s the point of taking Solace, Ruby, and the others?” She touched Ruby
’
s tombstone tenderly. “It can
’
t just be revenge.”

Another wind blew across the cemetery, and a thick cloud moved over the late July sun. Willa sat down in the grass, too tired to stand anymore. Koda trotted over to sit next to her. Then, one by one, all her coven-mates sat in the grass.

After several long moments of restless silence, Rowan said, “It
’
s time to go to Oregon.”

Willa
’
s head jerked up. “What?” she and several others said together.

“There
’
s one more spell we can try to find Archard.” Rowan looked from face to face and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a fountain pen, black and sleek as a dagger. “I found this at Archard
’
s old house. It
’
d fallen among the rocks in the driveway. I
’
m going to assume it belonged to him, or at least that he used it. If so, we can use it to find him.”

Rowan turned the pen over in his hand, and Wynter added, “We know one very powerful
locator
spell, but it must be performed by the ocean.” She looked at Rowan. “We know the perfect place on the Oregon coast. We
’
ll do it on the black moon, to reinforce the spell.”

Rowan leaned closer to Wynter. “We could stay with her. I mean, if you are all right with that.”

Wynter frowned and then exhaled. “Yes, it
’
s fine. I
’
ll call her when we get back.”

“Who are you talking about?” Willa asked.

“My mother,” Wynter said, looking at Willa. “She has a big house near the cove. We will stay with her for the night, after the spell is done.” There was an edge to Wynter
’
s voice; and when she looked away, Willa wondered what had passed between Wynter and her mother.

“But before we go,” Rowan said, “We should finish Simon and Willa
’
s Elemental Challenge.”

Willa
’
s jaw dropped, immediately forgetting about Wynter and her mother. Simon scoffed. “Are you sure, Rowan?” he asked. “It seems . . . insignificant right now.”

“On the contrary, having the strength of a True Witch will greatly aid you both when we
find
Archard. Because if we find him, there
will
be a fight—one far worse than last time.” Rowan let his gaze rest on Simon for a moment. Then he looked over at Willa. “The challenge is far more than a rite of passage. It solidifies, balances, and enhances your powers. You both need that.”

Willa nodded tentatively. “Okay. But is there time? The black moon is two days away. When do we do it?”

Rowan slid Archard
’
s pen into his pocket. “Tomorrow. Dawn.”

Rachel waited until the Covenant
left the cemetery and then hurried back to the house. Seeing through the blocking spell Wynter set had been easy; Bartholomew’s divination spell cut through the Light witches’ concealment like a wind through the fog. And his cloaking spell let her observe the light witches undetected.

Archard sat at the kitchen table poring over Bartholomew’s book, making notes on the spell they would use to Bind the ghost Covenant. He wrote slowly, awkwardly, his right hand wrapped in bandages.

Without looking up, he asked, “Have you seen my black fountain pen? It would be easier to hold with these damn bandages.”

Rachel
’s jaw dropped in surprise. Archard looked up at her. “What is it?”

“The pen—I just saw Rowan with it. Apparently, one of their Dreamers saw the house in Denver. They went to check it out. Rowan found your pen.”

Archard huffed and adjusted the ballpoint in his awkward hand. “Sun and moon! So they
do
suspect I
’
m alive
; and now they
’
re going to do a locator spell. Well, it
’
s about time they did
something.
”

“Yes, and they plan to do it on the night of the black moon.” Rachel leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up on another. “
In Oregon.
”

Archard narrowed his eyes and then sighed. “Ocean magic. Hmmm.”

“They also found the marks on the graves.”

Archard threw down his pen. Absently, he scratched at his healing sores through his bandages. “Do they know what it means?”

“Not really, but the other Dreamer—the girl—she
’
s having dreams about Bartholomew.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Really? Now that
is
interesting. Anything that could hurt us?”

Rachel took a long drink of water from Archard
’
s glass. “She saw you, too. They know there is a connection, but are clueless beyond that.”

Archard pursed his lips as if he smelled something foul. “Interesting.”

Rachel nodded, took another drink.

“Make the arrangements for us to go to Oregon,” he said.

“Why?” she set down the empty glass.

“Because we are going to crash their little spell, and then make them watch as I Bind a Dark Covenant made of Light witch ghosts.” The pleasure of the idea filled his body, his skin flushing red. “That will be much more satisfying than killing them now and Binding the ghosts later. This event deserves an audience.”

Rachel nodded in approval. “I
’
ll get everything ready.”

“Be sure we have something strong to pack the box in. The power has grown exponentially since the full moon, and I
’
m worried about the integrity of that old iron.” He looked down at his notes.
It
’
s almost time!
Archard
’
s confidence and arrogance had also grown since the full moon.

“I have a feeling we are going to need every ounce of that power if we are going to pull this off.” Rachel dropped her feet to the floor with a loud slap.

Archard furrowed his brows and looked back up. “Do not doubt me, dear. This will be one of the greatest successes in the history of Dark magic, next to my accomplishment on the full moon. I will sit beside Bartholomew as a lord of Darkness.”