Read A Witch's Trial (Witch's Path Series: Book 3) Online
Authors: N. E. Conneely
"How unaccustomed to this era?"
"It is hard to say, but his last memory of cities was prior to the lightbulb. His speech is accented, and I doubt the version of English he is speaking is his first language. Thus far he has been polite and calm." It would not do for me to give Mander false impressions, but I suspected Varro was significantly older than myself. If that was true, another extraordinarily long-lived male would make him feel the most comfortable.
"Won't be a problem. He is hardly the first we have seen come out of the woods." Mander snapped his fingers, and a wooden cup filled with water appeared in his hand. "Introduce us."
"Thank you," I said.
Varro turned away from the window when we approached.
"Varro, this is Mander. He runs the lodge with Landa. Mander, this is Varro."
"A pleasure," Varro said.
"Indeed. Would you care for some water?" Mander held out the cup.
Varro accepted the drink, took a sip, held the wooden cup in his hands. His posture relaxed, and he took a deep breath for the first time since I entered the parlor. "Many thanks."
Mander nodded.
"Varro, would you be comfortable if I left you in Mander's capable hands? I shall return before long."
Varro nodded, and I retreated. Varro might be knowledgeable about demons, but Michelle was going to have a hard time understanding his speech. It was giving me trouble, and I knew that version of English, or at least I had at one point. Perhaps when Michelle was feeling better I could talk her into doing a spell to smooth out the communication.
I walked into Michelle's new room to see Nancy leaning over Liam. There was a tingle of magic in the air, and Liam's face went from pinched to relaxed. One of Michelle's stories came back to me, and I remembered that her mother specialized in healing. It wasn't the most common field for witches since few clans approved of their members working outside the clan business.
Nancy pulled back, and the hum of magic faded from the air. "That's all I can do for now. You need to rest and drink warm fluids." She pushed a cup of tea into his hand, steadying him as he leaned forward to take a sip. "Give it a few hours, maybe a day, and you'll be back to your normal tricks."
"Thank you," Liam rasped.
"You're welcome," Nancy said as she stepped over to Michelle. She rested a hand on her daughter's forehead, frowning. "No change since the last time I checked on her."
"How is she?" I asked.
"Exhausted, but that isn't surprising. She had an exciting morning before this and had already used most of her power." Greg moved the blankets to expose her hand along with the vine that was clinging to it. "Would you know anything about this?"
"Only that it happened during the fight." I eyed the plant, which had sprouted more leaves.
"What fight? Does it have anything to do with the witches who were leaving when we pulled in?" Nancy asked.
I nodded.
"Why won't it come off?" Greg asked.
"It wants to stay with her. The forest lent her energy. When she returned it, she lost consciousness. The ivy is keeping her connected to nature and feeding her a small quantity of power."
The raised eyebrows and wide eyes clearly said that the story sounded as implausible to them as it did to me.
"Why would the forest lend her power?" Greg asked.
"It likes her." I shrugged. "She has an uncanny effect on plants; they become unnaturally lively around her. In all my years, I have never seen such opinionated greenery."
"What?" Nancy croaked.
"The plants around her altar are giddy and joyful when she is outside. The forest reached across many miles to save her from the trolls. A small cut flower I gave her grew to the size of a dinner plate and sent runners around her bathroom. Plants behave strangely around Michelle."
From the look on their faces, this was new information to them.
Landa appeared in the door, saving me from further questions. "Nancy, Greg, why don't you have some tea? Elron will keep an eye on Michelle, and I will tell you about the witches."
"All right," Nancy murmured. "But when she wakes up, she has some explaining to do. After the message she sent us this morning…" Her voice trailed off as Greg ushered her out the door.
I perched on the edge of Michelle's bed and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. She shifted, resting against my hand. We stayed like that as my warmth slowly soaked into her cool skin. Tears welled up in my eyes, dripped down my face, and darkened the blanket where they landed.
"You must be strong. I need you." I bit my lip as my innermost thoughts escaped into the world. I had intended to say that we needed her to be strong, because we knew how to kill the demon and needed her skills.
"You love her," Liam rasped.
I brushed the moisture from my eyes as I turned to face him. I had forgotten his presence. Of all the people to see me cry over her bed, it had to be the man who had more than casual affection for Michelle. "Why do you say that?"
"I can see it, on your face and in your body."
"My feelings are not your concern." I looked down at the werewolf. Before my eyes, I could see patches of frostbite shrinking, the damage done to his body rapidly reversing.
It had not escaped my notice that Liam had come to help Michelle on several occasions. In my experience, men had one reason for consistently helping a woman who was not related to them.
Liam sighed. "I'm not your rival."
I continued to glare at him. "Your actions speak differently."
He grimaced as he shifted positions. "I have been more, hmm, affectionate than a friend, but it was without intent. Don't misunderstand me, I admire and care for her, but it will never go past friendship. She isn't meant to be mine. I want a girl who will howl at the moon, enjoy a good hunt, and give me puppies. Michelle is a fantastic woman, but we couldn't have those things."
"Puppies?"
A smile broke through his pain. "I can't have kids with Michelle, and I want my kids to be werewolves, just like me. I've got my eye on this girl, but until the pack is stable and things settle down, she won't move here." His eyes lit up when he spoke of his girl, and his voice shifted from reverence to excitement.
"Why have you been helping her?" I nodded toward Michelle.
"I like her, and I made a deal with Simon to take over the pack. When Adder went off the rails, I had to appeal to the werewolf council to take over a hostile pack. Adder attacking a witch and an elf changed things. I could intervene and deal with the council later, so I did. I'm not staying here to be close to Michelle. The pack is sorting things out, and I need some space from a bunch of people who can't decide if I'm their savior or a new dictator."
"Did you plan on killing Adder?" If he had used Michelle's rescue mission as an excuse to rid the world of a piece of scum, it threw his actions in a different light, one that put us on the same side rather than opposing each other.
"Yes, and if you'd heard what he did to some of the women in the pack, you would've done the same. Helping Michelle and Amber was somewhere between an excuse and a side benefit."
"Ah, well, your aid was much appreciated. You have my thanks."
He studied me. "You don't look happy."
My fingers brushed the ivy curled around her hand. Swallowing hard, I kept my tears from falling. "I do not think she will be mine."
Liam watched me, his eyes seeing things I would have preferred to keep hidden.
"I love her. I feel something with her that I have not felt before." I took a deep breath. "But I'm married." When he scowled, I said, "Do not judge me yet. There is more to the story, and I suspect you will hear the rest before the day is done."
Liam's jaw was clenched, but he still managed a civil tone. "I look forward to the explanation. And if you play with her heart, I will hunt you down."
"If I hurt her, I will spare you the effort of a hunt." How could I avoid hurting her? Our dates had been exciting, tingling with the thrill of a new relationship. Had we been focused on building a friendship, perhaps things would have been different, but moving from a romantic relationship to a platonic one was hardly simple. Deep down, I wanted romance with Michelle, but that could not come to pass as long as I had a commitment to Sylvia.
"Good." Liam closed his eyes, and his breathing deepened as he drifted off.
I sat in silence, trying not to think as I waited for Michelle to awaken. Thinking was not helpful today, as every topic that came to mind was as painful as the last. I managed to still my thoughts and watched her for signs of distress. Her eyes fluttered open.
"Elron? Are you okay? Where am I?" Michelle looked up at me with big eyes.
"You are awake." I took her hand, thrilled to feel her fingers gripping mine. "I am in perfect health. You are in a new room in the lodge. Landa was unclear on the origin of the room. She might have created it, or the lodge made the room to fulfill your need."
"Of course." She rolled her eyes. "That's exactly the answer I was looking for."
"How do you feel?"
"Like I've been run over by a concrete truck." She tugged the blanket over her shoulders. "I'm cold."
"Allow me." I draped a second blanket over her.
Michelle relaxed under the second blanket. "Are the witches gone? Is everyone okay? What happened to Liam?"
"Shhh, calm down. That is a good girl; take a few deep breaths."
She glared but did it anyway.
"Look to your left." I leaned back so she could get a good look at Liam.
"He's alive."
"Yes, and given a few hours will make a complete recovery."
"Oh good. I was worried when I saw him in the ice. How is everyone else?"
"They are well. Would you feel comfortable being alone for a moment?"
Michelle nodded. "I might fall asleep, but I'll be fine."
"I will return in a moment." I planted a kiss on the back of her hand. "I was worried about you."
I slipped my hand out of hers, ignoring her surprised look, and left the room. All eyes turned to me when I entered the parlor. Before they could question my presence, I volunteered information. "Michelle is awake."
"Welcome back," Liam whispered.
"Are you okay? How did you get defrosted?" Thanks to the blankets, I could see little more than his pink face and sunken eyes. Liam had seen better days.
"Your father broke the ice spell, and your mother examined me and healed a few spots of frostbite. Your mother said I would be fine, but until then I felt dreadful." He spoke slowly, with a roughness that was unlike his normal voice.
"Oh, good, my parents made it." The implications of their arrival sank in before I could enjoy the good news. They knew about the run-in with the witches and had been at the lodge long enough for Landa to tell them about the letters. I wasn't getting out of that scolding. They wouldn't be happy that I had failed to mention communication from the clans.
I didn't have any more time to ponder the issues. A flurry of feet sounded outside, and a herd of people shoved themselves into the little room. Julius was left looking in from the hall, but that could've been intentional. With his wings and horns, it would be easy for him to bump into someone.
"Thank goodness you're awake." Mom rested a hand against my forehead, and I felt her power flow over me. She pulled back without doing any healing. "Better."
If this was better, I didn't want to know how I would've felt earlier. Every part of me was heavy, limp, and radiating a dull ache. When I went to scratch my nose, it felt like I had a twenty-pound weight strapped to my arm. My hand came into view, and I forgot about the itchy spot on my nose. My right hand and wrist were covered in ivy. It was curled around my fingers, then trailed down the palm, over the back of my hand, and across my wrist.
"What's on my hand?" I asked.
No one spoke.
Tearing my eyes away from the greenery clinging to my skin, I focused on the group of people next to my bed. Mom and Dad had worried expressions. Elron was shooting looks between my parents and myself, and the rest of the horde was standing around with a mix of worry, confusion, and curiosity.
"Anyone?" My voice rose with my frustration level. "I could really use some input on this issue. Before I passed out, there were vines up to my hips and a small piece had worked around my hand, but seeing as how the rest of me is free of the greenery, it's a little puzzling to find my hand engulfed."
Elron shot an exasperated look at my parents before speaking. "The ivy is maintaining a connection to the earth and facilitating a transfer of energy to assist your recovery."
I gave my hand and wrist a detailed examination, feeling better since it didn't sound like I was mutating into a plant creature. "Did it tell you how long it intended to stay?"
He shook his head.
"May I examine it?" The voice came from outside the room, and the old man from the parking lot crept around Julius.
Now that I had gotten a better look at him, old man was a misnomer. With gently pointed ears and caramel skin, he was clearly a fey. The gray hair had thrown me off from a distance. I'd never seen a fey who looked old before. Not only had the color faded from his hair, but his skin had a slackness that came from age.
Elron's brow furrowed, and he turned his attention away from me. I was too busy trying not to demand an answer as to why we had a fey who looked like he'd stepped out of feudal Europe in the room to worry about Elron's confusion.