Page 39 of The Redd Key (Bone Coven #1)

P eering from the front window, I watched thick, drowsy snowflakes drift down the alleyway outside of The Wicker Basket. Car tires sloshed icy puddles onto the sidewalk, sending water streaming down the cobblestone toward the shop’s door. Even indoors, with the crackling fire in the hearth going, it felt just as cold as it did on the frosted street.

My insides felt just the same. And in more ways than one, the weight of the locket hung heavy around my neck. How could I possibly live with myself knowing that I may have unleashed a curse that will destroy everything these people love—everything I love? If it weren’t for the emotions imprinted on me or the forgotten memories haunting my nightmares, it would be easy to laugh off all of this and deny its reality. But despite all logic, this was happening.

Mere months ago, aside from the tragic loss of my mother, my life was mind-numbingly normal, ordinary. The death of my mother had been consuming me. Tuly, my life stopped the moment her heart stopped beating, and I told myself I needed to find purpose in protecting RJ. By the looks of that night at Eamon’s, I was failing. RJ wasn’t protected. He was tormented, and I have done nothing to ease that pain, selfishly seeking the truth about who I am. What I am.

Witch. Witch. The accusatory whisper crept up my neck once more. No, I wasn’t going to let the locket taunt me anymore, especially while awake.

“This curse can not be completed.” My jaw set, and I twisted the trinket between my fingers. The four women looked at me, matching my determined gaze. “It can not…will not destroy us all.”

“Then, we have to do something,” Sarah urged, looking at each of us in turn.

“And we should destroy the locket,” Bridget echoed, as if it was the most obvious solution.

“Something like that won’t be easy to get rid of. Raina,” Lydia took my hands into hers, careful to not touch the locket, “it wanted to be discovered by you.” She spoke the last with severity.

“There was someone there, who was trying to stop me from finding it,” I recalled at this moment. The person Cole fought off was trying to stop me.

“No,” Bridget corrected. “They were trying to drown you. Probably to take the locket.” Her eyes flicked to the trinket, staring daggers at it. “And we really thought we were searching for answers,” she said bitterly, more to herself than anyone else. The corners of her lips turned down. “Instead, we’ve just been making things worse.”

Anabel gathered the empty teacups. “You need to figure this out on your own. I did not make it to crone-hood by messing with the magic of this island and its history. I can’t help you if I’m dead.” She dipped into the back room and didn’t come back out for the rest of the afternoon. The old woman was so frustrating. Anabel knew much more than she was letting on. I was sure of it. With Anabel gone it was just me, Bridget, Sarah, and Lydia. We needed extra support, that much we knew, and she left us no choice but to seek it from Lydia. The three of us turned toward her, desperation clear on our faces.

“I don’t know if I can—” Lydia held her hands up in surrender.

“C’mon. We need your help.” I put my hand gently on her shoulder. “There must be something in your Book of Shadows.”

“And you know this island better than any of us,” Sarah shrugged. “Bridget and I have never seen the tunnels or caves. I had no idea they were actually here. We’ve never found them.”

“They're just part of the lore, that bit about Bellamy’s treasure being hidden away here.” Bridget nodded to Lydia, “But you and Bronwyn found an entrance? People have searched the island for centuries.”

“We did.” Lydia then turned toward me with a confused look.

“You used Blood Magic to seal your oath,” I said. It wasn’t a question. Lydia nodded, her eyes darted between me and Bridget. “Show us where it happened, now.” Without waiting for a reply, I pivoted sharply on my heel, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes as they followed my lead out of the shop.

The gusts of wind howled around us, whipping at our faces as we pushed deeper through the wild brush alongside the easternmost part of the island. This was uncharted territory for me, farther east than I’d dared to explore during my search for the wreck. Here, rough black stones emerged defiantly from the obsidian bluff below.

“The tide is too high,” Lydia bellowed over the sound of rushing air and crashing waves. “It’s down over there.” She pointed to a jagged black mass. The icy air was painful, intolerable. Lydia, Bridget, Sarah, and I turned away from the cliffs to walk back to the still-running and warm car.

Sleet soaked through our clothing, and the cold penetrated my very bones. The locket warmed against my skin as something caught my attention, and I turned back toward the horizon. White crests from the clashing currents crashed violently against one another, sending sea spray high into the air. The ground was slick with sleet and salt water.

Witch. The word howled in my ears. Witch. It beat against my head. Witch. It pounded like a drum, resonating and severe.

My eyes shut like vices and I let out a yell drowned out by the winter storm unleashing around us. Witch. She whispered in my ear. My eyes snapped open and everything quieted.

The sun hung high above, vibrant against the canvas of blue sky, casting gentle, pale yellow rays that embraced my skin with warmth. Below me, the sea stretched out, its surface calm, while a refreshing breeze danced across my cheeks. I inhaled deeply and turned to find Sarah, Lydia, and Bridget were no longer there with me. I scanned my surroundings for any signs of my friends, and a wave of stillness washed over me.

She was there, just beyond the brush at the cliff’s edge. Her back was toward the horizon, and her eyes met mine. Witch. It was as if she whispered the word in my ear, but neither her body nor mouth moved. My feet led me toward her on their own accord.

Where her irises should have been, a dark storm churned deeply. Her anger, her pain—I saw all of Goody’s hurt, even as I remained surrounded by serenity. The sight of her choked me. The sweet ocean air turned bitter in the back of my throat. Witch. The word slipped from my own lips now, as I felt her reach down my windpipe and pull the accusation out of me. Witch. Feeling her pull harder, my gaze never left hers as she stood at the edge of the bluff without moving. Witch. Air froze in my lungs and I clutched my throat. Witch... Witch... Witch... I tried to tear the locket from my neck, but I felt the veins in my throat swell from straining. Oxygen refused to pass my lips, coaxing breath after breath.

WITCH!

There was screaming overheard as I gagged up the fiery salt water, nearly choking, and spewed it from my mouth. I fell to my knees, gasping for air. My head spun from lack of oxygen. A roaring noise filled my ears and as my throat felt like it was torn open, the screaming crescendoed into suffocating echoes. Eventually, my eyes adjusted to the grey landscape around me, a searing contrast to the serene vision in which I briefly existed.

“Lydia!” Sarah wailed, her voice was rough and distraught. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I frantically looked around to reorient myself…Sarah, Bridget, but where was Lydia? “Lydia!” Sarah cried out again, throwing herself to the ground and scrambling to the edge of the cliff, where I somehow found myself kneeling. “Raina, you didn’t grab her,” she shouted at me. Her eyes were dark pebbles of accusation. Bridget was already running toward us, grabbing Sarah by the shoulders and pulling her away from the edge. As Bridget held Sarah back, I noticed Sarah’s hair was slicked down the sides of her face, drenched from the storm. Black trails of mascara ran down from her tear-filled eyes.

“She was trying to stop you, Raina. Why didn’t you grab her? What the fuck were you thinking?” Bridget’s voice was venomous. Wait…what? My head throbbed. It felt like my skull was going to shatter.

My eyes squinted against the sleet, and I searched every bit of brush and between every boulder for Lydia; bile rose to my throat when it hit me. Sarah was sobbing into Bridget’s shoulder. Silent tears trailed down Bridget’s cheeks as she looked out toward the cliff’s edge. I swung around to see where her gaze led, down at the harrowing scene.

Between the crashing of waves, Lydia lay entangled in the most unnatural position amongst the obsidian spears. The bitter taste of bile rose in my chest, and my stomach reeled from the sight of Lydia on the black stones. With each blink, her lifeless face and body branded itself inside my mind. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape, blood streaking the side of her cheek. Her arms were at odd angles; one twisted behind her all wrong, and the other extended abnormally, every finger but one bent in on themselves.

By the time first responders arrived, Lydia’s mangled body was unattainable due to the rising tide and worsening weather despite only lying thirty feet below us. Fire, Police, and Paramedics deliberated on the best plan of action.

This time, the burning in my chest had nothing to do with the heat from the locket. I tore the trinket away from my neck, about to throw it into the ocean, when a hand caught my wrist.

“Raina, I’m here now. You are alright. You are safe.” Griffin’s face was warm, completely different from the last time we saw each other.

“Griffin.” My voice cracked as I spoke. I looked into his eyes, and he moved to hold my face gently in his hands.

Being in the middle of this horrific tragedy, a part of me was thankful to be chosen by someone, to feel good and safe even if just for a moment. A sob escaped my lips and I leaned into him. No, Griffin isn’t perfect—but my loneliness ached and my need to be someone’s someone was ineluctable. He enveloped me, my face pressed against the rough material of his coat. Tilting my chin up, I saw he wore his firefighter hat and uniform. I hadn’t realized his hands were thickly gloved as he held me. He walked me slowly to the back of an ambulance and sat me down. Griffin stood in front of me, slid off the heavy gloves, and held my hands in his. “Tell me, what happened.” His words were searching, without judgment, and he reached to tuck my loose strands of hair behind my ear.

“I–I don’t even know.” I shook my head, closed my eyes, and tried to remember. But all Icould see was Goody . Lydia’s fall happened so fast, I didn’t actually see what happened, and I told him as much. Bridget appeared next to Griffin.

“She got too close to the edge. Raina. She went to the cliff, and Lydia tried to stop her from falling, Lydia slipped, and…” Bridget wiped her nose on her sleeve, “and she fell.” her breath shook as she inhaled, trying to gather herself. The sun was low on the horizon now, and the red glow was mirrored in Bridget’s eyes. The sight was something to behold in contrast with her cornsilk hair. She looked ethereal. I blinked to force myself to look away.

“What were you doing on the edge of the bluff?” Griffin gently placed a finger under my chin, tilting my face to meet his.

“I thought I saw someone…something, I mean.” The vice on my skull wouldn’t relent.

“What did you see?” His grip on my chin stiffened the slightest. “ Who did you see?”

“I misspoke.” I shook my head, or at least I tried to as his hand took gentle control of my face. “I thought I saw something, not someone.” Pulling my face back, I stared at his hand, still suspended in the air where it held me. “It wasn’t anything.”

His jaw was tight, and he quickly squinted as he processed my recollection. Griffin’s features smoothed back. His eyes flooded with gentle concern once again. “I’m glad you are ok. This is such a tragedy, I’ve known Lydia my entire life. But Raina, I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to y–,” he pulled me into a tight hug before he could finish his sentence. Inside my chest, my heart fluttered. Bridget huffed before walking away.

Flashing lights tore through my head with the ceaseless aching at my temples. After Chris took my statement, I noticed the teams of first responders began their attempt at recovering Lydia’s body, even in the face of such treacherous conditions. I sat in the back of the ambulance , watching until my legs were stiff and numb. Griffin led the first recovery attempt, tying off the rope to an anchored truck, repelling down the side of the cliff—but the water rose. As gruesome as her fate had been, Lydia’s limbs were cracked between the shards of jutting obsidian, locking her into place while the tide continued to swirl and rise around her. Bile lingered in my throat, just below the point of spilling out.

I didn’t grab her. From what Bridget and Sarah had screamed at me, I could have caught her. She slipped, trying to stop me from falling, but the vision of Goody blinded me. My body moved untethered from my will, instead with Her haunting guidance. Lydia rushed to save me, but I didn’t try hard enough to save her. Although— a tugging in the back of my mind stirred— she was grasping your wrist, yet you chose to pull back instead of grabbing hers. The voice was a susurration, a breathy whisper quieter than ever, but somehow even clearer.

“We have to call it for the night,” Griffin’s voice rang out over the wind as he climbed back up from the cliff. “We can’t continue fighting the tide, and the storm isn’t letting up until tomorrow.” His voice was deep with authority, and the other firefighters, EMT’s, and police nodded toward him. A patrol vehicle would stay in place for the rest of the night until the team could attempt the recovery once again come morning. “Come on, I’ll take you home,” he said to me after the scene had been released.

Cedar and spice blanketed around me when he shut the door of his truck. The silence inside was welcoming, and I focused on my breathing. The hope to connect with my mother through Lydia was ripped away from me. She was the keeper of so many answers I longed for, and now those questions would remain unanswered…forever. My heart ached for Lydia, soul-bound to the island with the blood oath. Her death, so close to the place she sealed that spell. An eerie chill shot through me. The stillness in the car allowed the tragic scene to replay in my mind—the looks on Sarah’s and Bridget’s faces stirred a heavy sob from deep within my chest. I felt hollow, the same feeling that haunted me when I arrived on this wretched island.

A wave of the wild scent washed over me once again as Griffin got into the truck. He turned to face me, tired and worn but no less beautiful. Strands of his russet hair laid in perfectly messy directions from the fire helmet. “You couldn’t have saved her,” he said before starting the engine.