The Witch’s Daughter (46 page)

‘Well, Gideon,’ she said softly, ‘I am offering you my hand. Will you take it? Do you truly wish to be with me?’

He smiled a really cheesy I’ve-won sort of smile. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, my love. It gladdens my heart to see that you have, finally, come to your senses. That you know yourself. That you see that we were always destined to share our journey through time. Imagine how we will be together, imagine what we can accomplish!’ He seemed to grow, to pulsate with energy. At last he had what he wanted, what he believed was his right. ‘And so yes, as it was written, and as you were created witch in my name, most certainly, I do wish to be with you.’

‘Then you shall,’ she said. A heartbeat later, the other witches transformed themselves into fire, their whirling circle becoming a ring of flame around Elizabeth and Gideon in the center, who were now a good ten feet off the ground. White spheres of phosphorous swirled through the air. Sparks and burning leaves and pieces of wood were falling onto the forest floor. All about the clearing things started to catch fire. Anne floated upward, blending into the ring of flame and light. In the middle of it all, Gideon and Elizabeth remained calm and focused only on each other. Hand in hand, they began to rise up and up.

‘You are right.’ Elizabeth’s voice was clear even above the racket of everything else. ‘We could not kill you, Gideon. That was never really an option. But we can take you.’

The tiniest flash of fear showed in his face.

‘We can invite you to join us,’ she went on, tightening her grip on his hand, ‘and if you come willingly, if you agree, as you just have, then you can be our guest in the Summerlands.’

‘No!’ he roared, but it made no difference. He struggled to free his hand, but nothing he could do would make Elizabeth let him go. Not now.

‘You will cause no harm there, Gideon. Who knows, perhaps among us you may even learn a little humility.’

He was screaming now, his face changing all the time. He transformed wildly, madly, red eyes, fangs, tusks, horns. He bellowed and writhed and thrashed about, but she held him fast.

She turned her head slowly and looked down at me. I knew she was saying good-bye. I wanted to be brave for her, to show her I understood and that it was all right. To thank her for all she had done for me. But my heart was breaking. I couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving me.

‘Elizabeth!’ I called out to her, tears streaming down my face. ‘Elizabeth!’

She shook her head and smiled, and though I couldn’t hear her, I saw her mouth the words
Be strong!

And then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone. There was nothing. Just me and the woodland. I couldn’t move. I felt stunned. Only when I realized that the forest was on fire properly now, was I able to make myself think about getting to safety. I was about to run when I noticed something, a small movement on the ground. My white mouse! I went to scoop him up, but the little rat ran off.

‘Hey! This is not the time to play around.’ I went after him. He hopped onto a stick. It was Elizabeth’s staff. I picked it up. The mouse jumped into my pocket. I looked around, checking, just once more, but I was alone. I ran. I knew I couldn’t manage the bike, so I kept going on foot. I stopped when I got to the road and used my mobile to call the fire brigade. I threw the phone in the ditch after that, glad to be rid of the last thing he had given me. Then, keeping to the shadows, I walked home.

Well, I say home. Funny, that’s how I think of this house now. It is mine, after all. Elizabeth showed me her will. Imagine, a whole house. Mine.

I don’t know what Mum is going to make of that. But I’ll deal with her. She’ll be so pleased to have a rent-free place to live I don’t think she’ll ask difficult questions for too long. The main one being, where is Elizabeth? Tough one to answer that. I mean, I know where she said she was going, but I don’t really get it. And no one else will, that’s for sure. The Summerlands, that’s what she said. Like a heaven for witches; only it’s not forever. They come back. When the time is right, they come back. And she will too. One day. She promised me. Meanwhile, here I am, in her cottage, with all this stuff to find out about, all these books. Her
Grimoire
full of spells and recipes. And this, of course, her
Book of Shadows
. Well, I’ll be ready. When she does come back, she’s going to be seriously impressed with me. I’ll finish this now. It’s not really the end of Bess’s story, or Eliza’s, or Elise’s, or Elizabeth’s. But she’ll want to start a new journal when she returns. And who knows, one of these days I just might write my own
Book of Shadows
.

Taken from the
Matravers and Batchcombe Express,
November 1, 2007

BATCHCOMBE WOODS ABLAZE

Three fire tenders and nineteen firemen battled with a blaze at Batchcombe woods at around midnight last night. The fire, which spread as far as Batchcombe Hall to the west and the A324 to the east, was believed to have been started by campers. The remains of a burnt-out motorbike were found at the site. There were no witnesses, and the fire was reported anonymously. Batchcombe Hall was never under direct threat, thanks to the firebreak which lies behind the house. However, many acres of ancient oaks and beech trees were destroyed in the blaze. Police say they are investigating the fire, although they consider it to be carelessness rather than arson. A spokesman for the fire service admitted they were so far baffled as to what had actually started the blaze. They were unable to find evidence of a recent campfire. There is a theory that fireworks may have been set off in the woods, as remnants of phosphorous-like substances have been taken from the scene.

So Ends
The Book of Shadows

Also by Paula Brackston

NOVELS

Lamp Black, Wolf Grey

Nutters
(writing as P. J. Davy)

NONFICTION

The Dragon’s Trail: Wales on Horseback

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS
.

An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.

THE WITCH’S DAUGHTER.
Copyright © 2010 by Paula Brackston. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

Incantation from
The Craft: A Witch’s Book of Shadows
by Dorothy Morrison © 2001 Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. All rights reserved.

www.thomasdunnebooks.com

www.minotaurbooks.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Brackston, Paula.

The witch’s daughter / Paula Brackston.—1st U.S. ed.

p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-312-62168-1

1.  Witches—Fiction.   2.  Warlocks—Fiction.   3.  Immortality—Fiction.   4.  England—Fiction.   I.  Title.

PR6102.R325W58 2011

823'.92—dc22

2010037441

First published in England by Snowbooks as
The Book of Shadows

First U.S. Edition: January 2011

eISBN 978-1-4299-8985-5

First Thomas Dunne Books eBook Edition: January 2011