Authors: Dani Kristoff
Her mother held some port to her mouth. Grace took a sip, letting the sweet spirit slide down her throat. She took some more. Declan sat her on the floor, crouching beside her. She looked up and all three were waiting expectantly.
‘It’s a spirit. A young, male spirit.’
‘The brother?’ Elvira ventured.
‘Could be,’ Beatrice said, her gaze on Delores. ‘His spirit was not exiled like Elroy’s, so it could be that the way he died prevented him from departing.’
Elvira bit her bottom lip, her blue eyes sparkling. ‘Grace, if it’s Saul, then he died suddenly and in horrible circumstances. It is possible that he clung to his sister, still clings to her. She found him, was there when he died. If his spirit lingered, he could have latched onto her. It would explain how she reacts to you. Although you have your father’s colouring you do take after my side in looks and you have that connection to the dead.’
‘I don’t have a connection to the dead. I just have difficulty telling who is alive and who is dead…sometimes.’
‘What now, then?’ Declan asked. ‘Can you free her from this fragment?’
Grace didn’t know how to answer so she kept her mouth shut. Beatrice rubbed her chin, deep in thought. Grace cocked her eyebrow at her mother, who shrugged. That was a surprise. Her mother, stumped.
‘No point in lingering here. I have some research to do. You lot may as well eat while I come up with something.’ The healer headed out of the room and then turned around suddenly causing them all to stop in their tracks. With a gesture at Grace and Declan she said, ‘No indulging in sex, you two. Grace, you need to be clear of mind and body for this next step.’
Grace’s cheeks burned. ‘We were…we aren’t…’ She turned to Declan for some help. He shrugged.
What did that mean?
Grace thought to herself.
Whatever had happened to Declan that day, it didn’t affect his appetite. He had two large plates of roast beef with all the trimmings and was getting ready to dig into a big bowl of creamed rice. He saw Grace’s expression and grinned at her.
‘I’ve hardly eaten in days. Now that you’re here and there’s a possibility that something can be done, my spirit has lifted and my appetite has returned.’ Beatrice’s granddaughter came in to clear off the plates. ‘May I have another serving?’ He lifted his shoulders. ‘It’s for my father. He’s resting for a while but he’ll be hungry when he wakes.’
‘I have a meal prepared for him, Battle Master Mallory. Just send me a hail when he’s ready.’
Grace studied the young woman. Inviting an eligible warlock to hail you was rather forward, or did she think so because she was jealous? She shook her head.
‘What?’ Declan was wide-eyed as he waited for a response.
‘Nothing.’
‘It wasn’t nothing. You shook your head.’ He narrowed his eyelids.
‘I was distracted, thinking about what happens next. That’s all.’ Her cheeks must be glowing.
A slight smile tugged at Declan’s cheek. ‘You really are a bad liar. But, if you aren’t going to tell me now, you will tell me later, when there’s less going on. Deal?’
‘Sure thing.’ She agreed but hoped the incident would be forgotten. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he was rather cool with her. Yes, he had stuff going down with his family, but he treated her as a friend, not as a lover. Was this what Elvira was worried about, that Declan was going to break her heart? No guesswork or talent was needed to predict that.
They were sitting around drinking coffee when Beatrice came in. ‘I’ve been studying up on this phenomenon. It’s not quite a possession, so the normal type of exorcism and exiling ritual won’t work. It is a fragment of her brother that reached out to her when he died. They were very close and she grieved hard. Both those things combined have worked together to build on this fragment, which in the beginning was barely more than a memory. Now it has substance and given Delores’s decline, I’m thinking the fragment is draining her.’
‘Draining her, why?’ Grace asked.
‘Because it’s been fed all these years by Delores’s grief and her memories and her love. It now thinks it is her brother, but it’s not. It’s a fragment. Grace, you are going to have to lure it out of her. It will come to you if it thinks you’ll give it life.’
Grace shook her head. ‘I can’t do that. I don’t want to be punished again.’
‘It won’t survive outside Delores. It’s only a fragment and has no coherence. When you draw it out, Elvira and I will perform the exiling ritual. Declan, you will have to help. Do you know the steps?’
He nodded decisively. ‘Well then, if you are ready, then let’s do it.’
Grace went to the kitchen to thank the cook. Maddie was pleased to be thanked. Grace didn’t consider it stalling when she went to the bathroom to relieve herself, wash her face and breathe deeply for ten minutes before emerging. She didn’t know Beatrice well. What if something went wrong? Could Declan do anything? He was a battle mage, but did that include fighting intangible beings?
Standing with her hand on the doorknob she tried to talk herself up, even though it was weird to be going against the teachings of the last ten years. A knock on the door made her jump. ‘Grace?’
She opened the door. ‘Sorry.’
Declan’s frown showed concern. ‘Will you be all right, Grace?’
She rubbed her hands together. ‘Sure. Lead on.’
He turned around and she forced herself to follow. She wasn’t about let him know she was afraid, not when so much was resting on the outcome.
Another witch was in the room with Beatrice and Elvira when Grace and Declan entered. ‘This is Angie. She is here to reinforce the circle. Declan you stand there. Grace you stand at the head of Delores and we’ll encircle you,’ Beatrice said. Candles burned in niches around the room and the strong scent of myrrh wafted around them. ‘Anytime you’re ready, Grace.’
They joined hands with eyes closed. Grace looked down at Delores who still mumbled.
Goddess protect me
, Grace prayed, and dove in. The fragment was stronger than previously and had more substance. She sent her senses around the edges and saw where it was anchored to Delores, draining her of her life energy. That was a bit easier to deal with because she could see where to make the cut.
So you want to live, do you? Come with me then. Come on
.
The fragment understood her and rushed at her. At first, Grace suffocated under the weight of its presence. She fell back figuratively, drawing the fragment with her. At the same time she lashed out, severing its connection with Delores, who jerked under her hands. The gasps from the circle confirmed she had drawn it out and they could see it.
To be sure, she sent her senses back into Delores while the chant rose up around her. Delores was very weak. Grace did what she could to boost her breathing and giving a little of her own essence to help her recover. When she was stable, Grace withdrew her talent and opened her eyes. She had to stay very still in case she broke the circle.
The fragment appeared like a stain, a grey smudge, and it fought the ritual to exile it. Grace put up a barrier to block it coming into her and then quickly extended it to Delores. Declan’s mother was weak and the fragment was likely to seek refuge there once again. As she was not part of the circle there was nothing she could do to help them. Her mother’s power flared. Grace cast her gaze sideways and saw Declan’s power, a burning greenish gold, strike with force. The fragment was weakening. Beatrice’s power was steady and strong and Grace could see her unravelling the fragment, pulling a small thread so that it weakened slowly without actually detecting how.
Delores was coming around. Grace leaned over and whispered to her while stroking her forehead. ‘It’s all right now. You’ll get better soon.’ Delores sighed and drifted off to sleep, breathing with a rhythm normal, her life force growing stronger.
Beatrice spoke out, her eyes unfocussed. ‘Declan. I want you to thrust into the very centre of it when I say now.’
‘Yes.’
The chanting rose in pitch. Sweat was pouring off Angie and Elvira’s power had lessened. The healer gave a mental heave. ‘Now!’
The words of exile filled the room as Declan attacked, and the fragment dissipated and was no more.
Beatrice said the words to end the circle and they let go of each other’s hands. Grace backed away as Declan surged forward. He brushed the hair from his mother’s face. ‘Mum?’
Delores opened her eyes and then smiled. ‘Declan?’
Beatrice left the room and returned very quickly with Mr Mallory in tow. He stood there, gaping at the scene in front of him. ‘Delores?’
‘I was in a dark place.’ Delores spoke in a feeble voice.
He rushed forward and grabbed her hand. ‘I know. I know.’
Grace backed away so she could sidle to the door unnoticed. Mr Mallory turned to her. ‘Thank you. Thank you for what you have done.’
Grace blushed and then ran out of the room, suddenly overcome with emotion. Her mother came after her and held her tight. ‘You did well, dear. You did brilliantly. You saved that poor woman’s life.’
‘Oh Mum, I was so scared.’
‘I know, but you’re brave. You didn’t let your fear rule you. Now, maybe this coven will let you be the witch you were meant to be.’
She held Grace’s face between her hands and wiped the tears with her thumbs. ‘I’m going to head back. You can get a ride with Declan in the morning. Okay?’
Grace nodded. ‘Okay, sure.’
Her mother dematerialised. ‘Neat skill that,’ she said to the air. She didn’t really want to hang around, but it was a bit late to catch a train.
Beatrice bustled in. ‘There you are. I have a room for you to rest in. I suspect you are very tired after all that. We don’t want you swooning anytime soon. Come along. I’ll show you. The Mallorys will be needing some time together, I suspect.’
Grace cast a look over her shoulder at the door to Delores’s room. She didn’t send her talent in to see what was going on. That was private. She recalled the look Mr Mallory had given her. The absence of hate surprised her. When she thought about it a bit more, as she followed Beatrice to the room set aside for her, she realised she liked not being hated.
The room had a big brass bed, draped in lace. The furniture was carved oak and the curtain dark velvet. A rag rug kept her feet off the polished floorboards. ‘It’s lovely. Thank you.’
‘There’s a shower and toilet through those doors there and the French windows open onto the garden. Enjoy.’ The healer kissed her on the cheek. ‘I always knew you’d grow up into a very special witch.’
Grace blinked. ‘You did? Tell me, in what circumstances did we meet?’
Beatrice fiddled with her bun. ‘Well, that was after the incident with the cat. The council asked me to examine you for…well…unsavoury influences.’
‘I see, and you didn’t find any?’
‘No, dear, just strength and talent. Your spirit has always been light.’
‘Thank you. Good night, Beatrice.’
‘Good night, dear. Only get up when you want to. There will be food ready at any time. Take your ease.’
Grace stripped off and headed to the shower. She sniffed her clothes and pulled a face. She’d worked up quite a sweat during the ritual. She spell-cleaned her clothes and hung them up and then stepped into the shower. The hot water caressed her body as she let go of all the emotion she’d experienced that day. Thinking about what she’d done, it was as if it was the first time in her life that she’d done something of real value for her community. She examined her feelings, and it wasn’t because Declan had asked her. She’d been able to put her love for him aside and deal with the request.
Love? Did she really believe it was love? Not the childhood love she’d cherished for him, but adult love? She put her face into the hot spray, wetting her hair and opening her mouth so the water cleansed her throat too.
When she got out she discovered she hadn’t packed pyjamas, so it was naked to bed. It was heavenly to slip between the crisp white sheets. Yet even then, Grace found it hard to sleep. The excitement of being able to help his mother, the new experience of encountering a fragment and dealing with it were all occurrences that allowed her to grow as a witch. Then there was the proximity to Declan and not being able to tell whether he cared for her or not. Well, she knew he cared but she didn’t know what he would risk for that.
Her heart thumped hard. Acknowledging the love did nothing for her situation. Declan was distracted and cold. He had no time to think about love right now, especially love to a woman his mother hated. Maybe now she wouldn’t hate her as much as she had previously, but Grace could not picture a future where that would be.
Yet, having him near was enough to send her senses into a spin. She may have been scared, but now that the fear was gone, her thoughts could focus on more interesting things. Too bad she’d left Randy Roger at home. All that man so close and so far away.
Although she was tired she tossed and turned, only dozing occasionally. A few hours after she retired, there was a tentative hail from Declan.
Are you asleep?
It was a thin thread of a query that if she had been asleep she would have missed it.
Yes
, she replied back.
You?
The vibration of his light laughter reached her.
Do you want company?
I thought you’d never ask
.
Grace had but a few moments to restore the bedcovers before Declan joined her. Already naked, he slid between the sheets and drew her close. Declan was in need of comfort. She held him, stroked him in an undemanding way while he cuddled against her, his mind quiet. Grace found it hard to have all that man so warm and close, but after a while she relaxed and drifted off to sleep, still wrapped in his arms. His stillness helped to quiet her mind.
It must have been an hour or so later that Declan came around to more interesting things. Grace woke to the hands exploring her back, cupping her buttocks and then sliding up to cradle her breasts. Lifting her head, she kissed him fully, letting him know that she was awake and willing. He responded with long, drawn-out kisses that left her whimpering for more. Yet, his mood was different, sombre. This wasn’t about excitement and sex; it was about connection and comfort.