Page 35

M cColl

The cobblestone path winds down into the heart of our settlement, and I can feel eyes on us from every direction.

Windows open with soft creaks, doors ease ajar and faces peer out from behind drapes as word spreads through the community like wildfire.

McColl Ravencrest has returned. And she’s brought a fae with her.

I am sure that they are more interested in Kian than in me. I mean, a fae within the heart of our coven is unheard of.

I keep my shield firmly in place around Kian, the magic flowing through me with surprising steadiness despite my churning nerves. The familiar cobblestone streets beneath our feet should bring comfort, but instead, they feel like a countdown to whatever awaits us at my mother’s house.

My mother. I wish I didn’t have to face her.

More Children of the Veil quietly join the procession, too, their hoods up, faces concealed.

“McColl?” a tentative voice calls from behind one of the garden gates. “Is that you?”

I turn to see Meredith Ashwood, one of my childhood friends, her curly auburn hair now pinned up instead of wild about her shoulders. Her eyes are wide with disbelief and something that might be joy. She has a baby on her hip.

“Hello, Meredith.” I manage a smile despite the tension coiled in my chest. “It’s good to see you. You’re a mother now,” I state the obvious.

“I am indeed. I married Scott. You remember Scotty?”

I nod. “That’s wonderful, Merry.” I use my nickname for her.

“By the goddess, we thought you were dead.” Tears spring to her eyes. “When you disappeared, your mother said…” She trails off, her gaze shifting nervously to Lydia and the other Children of the Veil surrounding us.

“Let’s move along,” Lydia says, sounding bored.

“I’m very much alive.” I keep my voice gentle. Meredith was always kind to me, even when others whispered about my lack of magical ability or were outright nasty. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get word to anyone. It wasn’t possible. I came straight here as soon as I was able.”

“It is good to see you, McColl. Take care of yourself.” The baby starts to fuss.

“You, too.”

We start walking. More faces stick out in the growing crowd.

Some familiar, some changed by the passage of three years.

Mrs. Elderwood from the bakery peers through her shop window, flour still dusting her apron.

Young Thomas Brightwater, who used to have a crush on me, now sports a beard and the broader shoulders of a man grown.

They stare with a mixture of wonder and wariness, their eyes inevitably drawn to the shimmering barrier around us… as well as to Kian.

Children follow at a distance, whispering and pointing, their young faces bright with curiosity.

“Is it true?” calls out Sarah Moon-something-or-the-other, I can’t quite remember.

She pushes through the crowd. “Do you really have magic now, McColl? Or is it the fae holding that spell?” Like me, Sarah never had much magical ability, but unlike me, she isn’t the daughter of the most powerful family of witches.

Before I can answer, Lydia’s sharp voice cuts through the murmur of voices. “Keep moving. This isn’t a social gathering. Stand back!”

The crowd falls back, but they continue to follow at a respectful distance as we make our way through the winding streets toward the hill where our family home looks over the whole valley.

The path grows steeper as we climb toward my mother’s house…

my house – or at least, it was once. I find myself breathing harder and not from the exertion, but from the weight of what’s coming.

Each step brings us closer to the grand stone mansion that has always dominated the hillside with its tall windows.

It’s the biggest house on the highest hill, a constant reminder of my mother’s power and high position.

“McColl,” Kian whispers, his voice meant for my ears alone. “You’re trembling.”

I glance down at my hands and realize he’s right. Despite the steady flow of magic through me, my entire body is shaking. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” His beautiful green eyes meet mine, full of understanding. “You’ve got this. We’re going in there together to tackle whatever comes our way.”

I love the sound of that.

His words anchor me, give me something to hold on to as we finally reach my childhood home. The house looms above us, all arches and intricate stonework. Exquisite and yet somehow cold. Not truly a home. More of a shrine.

Someone must have sent word ahead because my mother is waiting.

She stands in the grand doorway, framed by the carved stone archway that bears our family crest. For a moment, I’m struck speechless by how much she’s changed.

There are silver threads through her dark hair and fine lines around her eyes.

Were they there before? I can’t say for sure.

She seems smaller somehow but still impeccably dressed in her finest robes of deep purple silk embroidered with silver runes, every inch the High Mystic of our coven.

For a moment, I’m not sure whether to address her as such or as my mother. I hate how clumsy she makes me feel.

“McColl.” Her voice carries across the courtyard, pitched perfectly to reach every ear in the crowd that has followed us. “My daughter. You’ve come home at last. How we’ve missed you.”

She descends the stone steps with measured grace, her arms outstretched in a gesture of welcome that looks genuine to anyone watching. But I know her too well. I can see the calculation in her dark eyes, the way her gaze keeps flicking to Kian even as she approaches me.

“Mother,” I say simply.

“My darling girl,” she murmurs, just loud enough for the crowd to hear. “I’ve missed you so much.” There was a time I would have lapped up every scrap of affection she showed me, like a starving dog thrown a bone. Not anymore. I find that I am left as cold.

“You look well,” she says, and I can hear the question in it.

“Thank you, Mother.” I keep my voice carefully neutral. “I missed Regana.”

Her gaze shifts to Kian, taking in his pointed ears, his carefully controlled posture, the way he stands just close enough to me that our magical connection remains as strong as possible.

For a moment, something dangerous flickers in her eyes.

She schools her emotions in the next instant so that I almost question seeing her malice in the first place.

“Well,” she says, her voice taking on a honeyed quality that sets my teeth on edge. “You must be tired from your journey. Come inside. We have much to discuss.”

She turns to address Lydia and the other Children of the Veil. “Thank you for escorting my daughter home safely. You may return to your duties now. This is a family matter.”

Lydia’s face twists with obvious disappointment. “High Mystic, surely you want us to—”

“I said you may go.” My mother’s voice carries the crack of authority, and Lydia has no choice but to bow stiffly and withdraw with her warriors.

The crowd begins to disperse as well, though I can see many of them lingering at the edge of the courtyard, clearly hoping to catch some hint of what’s about to unfold.

My mother turns back to us, her smile as perfectly pleasant as it is terrifying. “Come, my dear. Bring your… friend . I’m sure you have quite a story to tell. Hmmmmm…?”

She doesn’t acknowledge Kian directly, doesn’t even look at him as she speaks, and yet I can feel her attention on him like a blade held to his throat.

We follow her up the stone steps and through the heavy oak doors into the grand foyer of my childhood home.

The interior is exactly as I remember it: all dark wood and magical artifacts displayed in glass cases, as well as portraits of my ancestors gazing down from the walls with painted eyes that seem to follow your movement.

Was it always this depressing? This dark and unwelcoming?

“Tea?” my mother asks, leading us toward the sitting room. “You must be parched after such a long journey. You always enjoyed cocoa with a spoon or two of honey. The sweeter, the better.”

When I was ten, perhaps.

“No, thank you,” I say quickly.

She looks at Kian, still not actually speaking to him.

“I’m fine, as well,” Kian adds, his voice carefully polite.

My mother nods as if she expected as much. “Of course. Well then, shall we sit? I’m sure you’re eager to…reconnect. I certainly am.” By reconnect, she means to drill me.

The living room is one of the more intimate spaces in the house, though intimate is a relative term when it comes to my mother.

High-backed chairs upholstered in deep green velvet are arranged around a stone fireplace, and magical lights dance in crystal sconces along the walls.

She takes her usual seat, the one that positions her with her back to the fire so that her face remains in shadow while her guests are fully illuminated.

I sit in the chair across from her, hyperaware of Kian taking the seat beside me. My shield remains firmly in place around us, and I can feel my mother’s eyes tracking its quick shimmer as we sit, before moving back to lock with mine.

“Well,” she says, folding her hands in her lap with practiced elegance. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your companion?”

Here we go.

The moment of truth has arrived. At least we can stop dancing around each other now. I take a breath and hope my voice remains steady. “Mother, this is Kian. Kian, my mother, Lilith Ravencrest, High Mystic of the Regana Coven.”

“An honor to meet you, High Mystic.” Kian inclines his head respectfully. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

My mother’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “How polite he is.” She speaks about Kian like he is a dog learning tricks. “And how…unusual. It’s been many years since a fae has set foot in our territory. I don’t believe it’s ever happened voluntarily.” Her eyes narrow for a moment.

Then she turns her attention back to me, her expression shifting to something that might be maternal concern if you didn’t know her as well as I do.

“Now then, my dear daughter. I want to hear everything. Where have you been all this time? How did you survive? And most importantly,” her gaze flicks to my still-active shield spell, “when did you come into such remarkable power? I must say, I knew it would happen one day.”

That is a lie. She had long since given up on me.

I choose my words carefully, acutely aware that every syllable is being weighed and measured.

“As you know, I went on the expedition to fetch a rare artifact we had gotten word of.” She knows because she sent me.

“It was just over three years ago.” It is not to remind her but more of a dig.

I can’t help myself. “It was the artifact you wanted for your collection. A magic wand made from an Englewood tree.”

There is no reaction from her. Not a single muscle twitches.

“The five of us were ambushed, and I was captured by the emptyfae. I managed to fight them off long enough for the others to escape, but I was not so lucky.”

“I know this part, dear.” She waves a hand, indicating that I should move along.

“I was taken to their Court and used as a vessel to channel magic.” I keep my voice flat, emotionless, though the memories still have the power to make my skin crawl. My hand goes unbidden to my neck, closing on the stone Maya gifted me. “When it became clear that no rescue was coming…” I pause.

Something flickers across my mother’s face; I think it’s annoyance at being called out so directly. She knew I was captured. Knew exactly where I was. And yet, no rescue ever came.

“I started looking for a way to escape. As fate would have it, an opportunity arose, and I took matters into my own hands. Kian helped me escape,” I continue. “And he helped me reach home safely. I owe him my life.”

“How fortunate that you found such a…helpful…ally.” My mother’s tone is perfectly pleasant, but there’s ice beneath it. “And your magic? This newfound power of yours? It’s quite remarkable. Tell me how you…found it. I’m intrigued.”

For the first time in my life, I have my mother’s attention. Every last drop.

Still, I hesitate, uncertain how much to reveal. The truth feels too dangerous to share. I don’t trust her.

My own mother.

The woman who gave birth to me.

“It just appeared one day after I escaped. I woke up and could suddenly access power I’d never had before. We were about to be captured, and boom, there it was, alive and strong.”

“It just appeared?” my mother says the words slowly, her dark eyes never leaving my face. “And just when you needed it most.”

“Exactly. I think my body needed a jolt.”

“How wonderfully convenient.” Her smile grows wider and more predatory. The lines seem to disappear from her face, and her hair is suddenly thick and pitch black like night. “Are you sure that’s how it happened?”

“Yes.”

The pleasant mask falls away like discarded clothing, revealing the cold calculation underneath. Her eyes harden to chips of black ice, and when she speaks, her voice carries the full force of her authority and power.

“Anything more to say for yourself, McColl?” She’s speaking to me like I’m a child again, trying to make me feel small and insignificant. “Perhaps you’d like to explain why you’re lying to me. You should know by now that I can always tell.”

The temperature in the room seems to drop. Magic crackles in the air around my mother like gathering storm clouds, and I feel my own power respond defensively, strengthening the shield around Kian. It’s no match. I am no match.

“I can sense it, you know,” she continues, rising from her chair with fluid grace.

“The way your magic and his are woven together. Intertwined like lovers’ fingers.

Do you honestly think I’m so foolish that I wouldn’t notice?

That you could pull the wool over my eyes with such a transparent deception? ”

My heart hammers against my ribs as her power fills the room, pressing against my shield. This is the mother I remember – terrifying in her anger.

“I want answers, McColl. Real answers. And I want them now.” Her gaze shifts to Kian, and there’s murder in her eyes. “Or there will be consequences that neither of you will like.”

The threat hangs in the air between us, sharp as a blade and twice as deadly. I can feel Kian tense beside me.

I square my shoulders. I refuse to be cowed. “Very well, Mother. I will tell you all you—”

“No,” she cuts me short. “You had your chance, daughter!” She says it like a curse. “I want to hear it from him.” She points at Kian. “And if you know what’s good for you, I shall have the truth, fae. You only get one chance.”