Page 23 of The Redd Key (Bone Coven #1)

“J eff! Jeff, wait ,” I yelled.

While the wind and sea settled back into serenity, Jeff made it to the harbor’s parking lot and into his truck in a few long strides. I tried to catch up with him, but my body was still trembling. Sarah helped Bridget along, both of them struggling to move.

“Forget it, Raina. Just let him go,” Bridget said, almost exasperated.

Our hair was matted, and our clothes were soaked through. Each of us shivered violently from the combination of being so damp and the severe adrenaline crash. The muscles in my shoulders and neck ached as they began to seize.

“I think we need to get out of here.” Sarah’s voice wavered. I stretched and massaged myself as I watched her lip quiver. She bit it back before continuing, “It’s not safe. We need to see Gram.” I had never seen Sarah more serious. Our power was almost ineffective against the attack, and she must not have taken that well. None of us were handling it well.

“When did Anabel get back?” Bridget sharply asked. She was walking toward the cars with her head on a swivel, scanning the waterfront.

Whoever it was that attacked us never resurfaced. I glanced at the Boathouse's windows, but they had the storm blinds down, blocking out all sight. I looked over at Cole’s docked boat, which seemed even more desolate than usual in the empty harbor. Was there really no one else who witnessed the attack? A pull in my chest responded to my sense of defeat.

“She got back last night,” Sarah said through chattering teeth. “We shouldn’t have done the ritual – that was so irresponsible. Our bloodlines alone are enough of a giveaway. Now, we’re waving our witchy pride flags around saying, ‘Come and get us!’ I’m starting to realize this is so much more than I signed up for.” Seeing Sarah so grave was almost as unsettling as the attack itself. I wore unease like a threadbare sweater as we left the docks.

Lost in a labyrinth of racing thoughts, I squinted at the road ahead of me. Leaves glowed like embers in the afternoon, and sunlight broke through the grey clouds. Each leaf shimmered as they turned in time with the changing season. Yellow, red, brown, and orange medlies burst between spaces in the evergreen canopy. The vibrant colors were a welcome sight in such a typically grey landscape. I admired their waning beauty as I drove toward The Wicker Basket. Even with the heat blasting, it did nothing to warm my soaked bones.

Peak Drive was barren as I made my way through downtown. I didn’t see a single person as I pulled up to The Wicker Basket. Somehow, the peculiar little shop seemed to have a shadow casted over it. The darkness from the alley walls pushed in on me as I walked the short paces from my parking space to the door. Above my head, the wooden sign swung slowly in the eerie calm that settled around the island, as if we only had moments before a raging storm was to descend upon us all.

Shaking off that eerie foreboding as I walked in, I was met by a steaming pot of tea nestled onto one of the small coffee tables. The sight would have been a warm welcome if it weren’t for the downset eyes and drained faces worn by Bridget, Sarah, and Anabel, who was seated in one of the plush chairs. Bridget was leaning against the counter at her usual spot, and Sarah paced tirelessly, unable to stand still.

“We’ve only just got here,” Bridget said. Her eyes held a hard gaze, studying the shelves across the room from her. I doubt she was really seeing them, but instead, replaying the event that we just lived through.

“Grams knew something was going to happen.” Sarah shook her head and continued to pace. I looked over to the old woman and raised a brow in question.

“How did you know? Why didn’t you warn us?” I had to clear my throat before the words were audible. My voice was thick as fear and anger battled to stake claim.

“I saw it happen.” Anabel’s voice was faint as she ignored my second inquiry. “Dreamt about a storm, a force being sent to steal what I hold most dear.” Her crystal blue eyes looked toward Sarah and were clouded with tears. She rapidly blinked them away. “When I was gone, I sought advice from the others that fled over the years. The time for the curse was inevitable, but I fear for what’s to come.” She dabbed the corners of her eyes with a tissue from her pocket. “Now, tell me what happened.”

Recalling that Anabel whisked away to Salem when she left us the foreboding letter, a plethora of questions threatened to slip from my tongue, like what did the “others” say? Who even are they? Did any of them have any answers for us, wisdom even? The words turned to dust in my mouth as Sarah and Bridget launched into recounting the attack.

Anabel sat quietly as they described the rushing water and surge of power. Her brow laced itself together, furrowing more with each detail. Finally, she stood when we mentioned the swells, how they bore down on us. Once we were finished, she didn’t waste time letting us know that she was aware of the Binding Ritual and that we had unlocked our full Aecor.

“You girls are very lucky. Implementing the ritual was an extreme risk, though I am happy it was successful. Your powers are greater together. Though, if I could feel your Aecor unleash, then others did as well.” A grim frown deepened the wrinkles that already lined her face while she thought for a moment. “But how did you stop this person? You have almost no training.” Training? I hadn’t even thought about that being an option. My mind was already at full capacity from all my life changes, settling in from the move, and discovering so many new things about who and what I am…there wasn’t any more space for even the most logical things. We could definitely use training.

“It was Jeff, Raina’s brother. He threw the sea, sending a wave over the dock to block the person, and knocked them off into the water.” Bridget marveled. All this attack did for Bridget was play out a damsel in distress fantasy between her and Jeff, and I was sure she secretly loved it—save for the almost-dying part. “But then they were gone.”

“Yes, well, these things tend to run in families,” Anabel nodded, speaking more to herself than to the room. “Aecor comes from deep within our bones. Not just the women are magical.” She straightened the tray of business cards on the counter as she considered a silent thought. “The concerning part of this whole ordeal is that you were targeted so soon after the Rite. Have you told anyone that you’ve bound yourselves together?”

“Not at all,” Sarah said. “We barely have had the chance to explore any of it ourselves.”

“I’ve only worked through some of the simple spells I’ve seen in my Book of Shadows,” I added, assuming Sarah already told her grandmother about it. “But only at home.”

“May I see your Book?” Anabel outreached a wrinkled hand. I slung the backpack off of my shoulder and handed her my family’s spellbook. I had taken to carrying around the book and the contents of the wooden chest wherever I went. Fortunately, my backpack was safely stashed in my car during today’s attack. She held the binding reverently. “This—it was your mother’s?”

“My dad’s.”

Anabel’s eyes grew wide, as she scanned the cover for a long moment before opening the book. She skimmed through its frayed pages and halted at the modern notebook paper entries. “This is really something the three of you need to keep quiet about, so be mindful around any boyfriends,” Anabel glanced toward Bridget and then me, “please do your best to avoid any and all suspicion. It’s best to not let anything on. And when the three of you do practice, do so with subtlety. It would be naive to think the Blood Coven, or others, weren’t a real, current , threat. Our history, the Bone Coven, is ancient, but strong. And so is theirs.”

Anabel’s warning stirred within our minds well after the conversation ended and the old woman left us, claiming exhaustion.

“She said magic runs in bloodlines. And you said this island is full of descendants of witches from the Bone Coven.” I spoke directly to Sarah. “Do you know who they are?”

“Why—do you think they’re potential threats?” Bridget’s face hardened as she asked the question.

“They’re either a threat or they’re at risk.” If we were being targeted for having Witch blood, then who’s to say others weren’t being targeted as well? “Do we know of anyone else being attacked?”

Sarah shook her head in response. “But it’s almost everyone in town, to be honest. The families that are still around are the Patricks. We graduated with the twins, Lana and Wesley. Then there is the Birch family. Ethan Birche is our age, too, but he went to private school on the mainland. He left for a while but came back last year. Roots, Burrows, the Silver family, and Morgans of course. The Pierce family, Aggy.” Sarah was counting on her hand.

“Aggy? Like, Agatha?” I leaned forward, more alert and shocked to hear her name.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Bridget pressed her lips into a hard line.

“The Schaed’s,” Sarah continued, nodding toward Bridget.

“Chris,” Bridget said to me in reply to me tilting my head at the unfamiliar surname. “He’s a witch, too. At least by blood. I don’t think he even knows, though. We’ve never talked about it.”

“So, men are witches, too?” I asked the two of them and they nodded.

“It’s gender neutral. Not wizards or warlocks, or anything like that. Everyone is a Witch.” Bridget finally pushed away from the counter and strode across the room to the couch to sit next to me.

“Oh, yes,” Sarah remarked. “I almost forgot. Griffin Peterson. The Petersons were here long before the Morgans.”

“Griffin is a witch?” My jaw literally dropped.

“I doubt he knows about it, but his family is quite old. I can’t recall Grams telling me about them ever practicing.” Sarah said.

“As teenagers, when Anabel’s almost-coven gathered, it was only the Burrows, Roots, Morgans, Silvers, and Birche families who had children around the same age. They didn’t know of any other families who were even aware of their lineage.” Bridget tied her hair up into a high ponytail. “Not every family has found or preserved their Book of Shadows, remember?”

“The Morgans were meticulous with their documentation,” Sarah said with a tinge of smugness.

“I think we might need to start keeping tabs on all of them. This is a vulnerable time for anyone with Witch blood. We should lay low and figure out who’s an ally that needs our protection, and,” I took a deep breath before continuing, “figure out who is a possible threat.” I was surprised at the resignation in my voice, the acceptance .

“Yeah—We’ll have to track them…see if anyone is practicing or being threatened. Scope out any unusual behavior,” Bridget said, decidedly.

Deep into the evening, we sat on the floor of The Wicker Basket divvying up our list of descendants from Salem families. They were categorized into columns of who still lived on the island, who was aware of their own lineage, and who would be the most vulnerable.

“I can focus on Peak Drive and keep an eye on anyone that might be at risk…anyone whose lineage stems from the Bone Coven,” Sarah offered.

“That works because I won’t be able to do much from the vet office. I can watch out in the evening. So many of these people live near me in the Village.” Bridget said.

“The Village?” I asked her.

“The Founders’ Village. It’s what we call the oldest part of the island, out east. It’s where all of the retired crew members of Bellamy’s fleet and the Covens ended up moving to when the island was first settled. A lot of the houses have been rebuilt over the years from storm damage, but most of the original families stayed put.”

“I never put that all together, that the descendants of Salem Witches and Bellamy’s crew would have stuck around so long.” I don’t know how that obvious fact never occurred to me. “No wonder you guys take the curse and the legends so seriously. That’s the real history of everyone here, of your ancestors.”

“That’s why we weren’t surprised about your mother’s last name. I don’t think any random or unrelated people have ever moved here before.” Sarah cocked her head to the side and thought about it.

“Well, except for Cole. As far as we know, Harlin isn’t a surname of any of the crew members or witch families.” Bridget concluded.

“Maybe he’s a descendant on his mom’s side?” I suggested.

“Doubt it,” Sarah snorted. “Anabel would have known. She knows such things.” Recalling every conversation I had with the old woman, I was inclined to believe Sarah.

I shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll keep an eye on the north-west of the island. I’ll be going back and forth to the harbor to get some shipping done, so I’ll be able to watch out for Jeff, and happily ignore Cole.” I said with a hard smile.

“You sure you don’t want to trade roles, B? Get the chance to stare at Jeff while he works every day?” Sarah teased Bridget.

“You’re the worst. And speaking of, I have to go. Chris is coming by tonight; we have some long overdue makeup sex scheduled.” She winked and moved to leave.

“When are you two not fighting?” Sarah jabbed. Bridget merely rolled her eyes and left with a swoosh of her ponytail.

I packed up the Book and the items from the chest. The bottles caught Sarah’s attention before they disappeared into my backpack.

She winced. “Something about those things gives me the creeps.”

“Same…sort of, but I am so curious about them. I meant to ask Anabel what she thought of them.” I pulled the strap of the backpack over my shoulder. “I better get going, too. We can touch base in the morning.” Sarah hugged me tightly and locked the door behind me as I left the shop.

Being only a couple blocks away from home, I deserted my car and welcomed the walk. Ferran appeared beside me by the time I made it to the first corner. “Hey, buddy,” I petted the grey cat. His purrs grew louder in response. The two of us walked in stride down Peak, alone on the foggy street.

Our serene silence was broken by a voice in the wind. I turned in its direction, alarmed. Releasing a halted breath, I began to walk again, only to freeze.

“ In blood and bone, we owe the earth, as we purloin love and mirth ”

It was barely audible. My pulse quickened and I shot across the street, hurrying home.

“ In blood and bone, we owe the earth, as we purloin love and mirth ”

I heard it again. And again. With each pounding footstep I took, I heard the words grow louder. Racing up the stairs to my front door, I took my backpack off to grab my keys from the front pocket.

“ In blood and bone, we owe the earth, as we purloin love and mirth ”

The voice sounded like it was coming from in front of me and I couldn’t move. I didn’t find my keys, but rather accidentally grabbed the bottle of dark liquid.

“ In blood and bone, we owe the earth, as we purloin love and mirth .” The voice came from the bottle.