Witch's Awakening (29 page)

Brenna gave him a sidelong glance. “Magic, of course. Even bugs are smart enough to leave it alone.” She began reading. “Looks like these are from the 1800s just before the Civil War.”

He sifted through the box, separating pages of the book from other debris and handing them to her to read. She became excited as the words began to make sense. “It was another dark time here in the county. Lots of unexplained events, even murders and a rash of arson.”

“The same pattern we're going through.”

“This continued for several months as the Yankee Army marched through the state.” She read on as Jake retrieved more pages. “The witches gathered at the Connelly house for several days, working on spells and potions, trying to find a way to bring some peace and calmness to the area.”

“Did they find a solution?”

The blood rushed from Brenna's head as she found the answer. She stood, swaying on her feet.

“Brenna?” Jake stepped forward. “What's wrong?”

Instead of answering, Brenna clutched the papers to her chest. She turned and climbed down the ladder before Jake could stop her.

“What is it?” he demanded, catching her arm before she could get out of the barn. “What did you find?”

She didn't want to tell. The solution her ancestors had reached shamed her. How could they have done this?

“Brenna.” Jake took hold of her shoulders. “Tell me.”

After all he had shared with her, there was no reason to hold back, she realized. “They decided the only way out was suicide.”

“What?”

“One of the Connelly witches offered herself freely to the Woman in White. It worked. All the trouble in town subsided.”

“No, let me see that.” Jake took the papers and scanned them with a frown.

“See that?” Brenna pointed to the stark, underlined words in the middle of the page. “‘The only way' is what they wrote. This was the only way.”

Tears blurring her eyes, Brenna started to the cruiser. “I have to go. Get me out of here.”

Jake caught her elbow and spun her around. “No,” he said, his voice fierce. “Don't you even think about it, Brenna. Don't you dare.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Brenna spent the rest of the morning trying to convince Jake she wouldn't take any impetuous action based on the new pages from
The Connelly Book of Magic
. The information had shaken her, but she wasn't ready to sacrifice herself as her ancestor had. She did want to talk about this with her family, so she asked for a coven meeting that evening.

Jake was called in just after noon. With the woods so dry, fires had broken out in a couple of remote areas of the county. He had to coordinate traffic detours.

Relieved to be alone, Brenna read the entire new section of the family book. In black and white, the words outlined what to do to protect New Mourne's humans and “other-natured residents.” She had no doubt earlier history sections would reveal a similar pattern. However, why take this step? Instead of giving up, why not devote every day to finding the cause of the unrest and death that came once a generation?

She wanted answers tonight.

Everyone was in the dining room when she got back to the home place around seven. Coven members occupied their usual places, save for Doris, who was still in the hospital. Brenna noted her mother was there, but her father was not. That was fine with her. This was strictly coven business.

From the doorway to the kitchen, Marcus gave Brenna a questioning look. His expression was grim and his being upset filled her with sadness. Marcus had always been her champion. When he turned and walked out the back door, she took a deep breath to fortify herself and faced her family.

Sarah sat with arms folded, her face as solemn as her husband's. “You called this meeting,” she told Brenna. “What do you want?”

Brenna spread the newly discovered pages in front of her and related the morning's discovery in the barn.

Though Sarah's cheeks reddened, she didn't move.

Maggie began to cry. Eva Grace soothed her.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic, Brenna, and tell us what you want us to know.”

“Every time the Woman in White comes for her tribute, there's turmoil and unexplained events in New Mourne,” Brenna said. “So it begs the question: why was it such a surprise to the elder generation that we've had all this upheaval in town?”

“Because of the Remember-Not spell,” Frances said.

The ease of the explanation made Brenna grit her teeth. Why did the elders make them work so hard to understand their actions?

Sarah glared at her older sister. “We've never discussed the particulars of that spell with the younger ones.”

Frances huffed. “Well, we have to now. They should know in case they need it, too.”

“You deliberately chose to forget every time this happened?” Delia said, looking confused.

“Of course not,” Sarah said. “I didn't forget my sister or Celia or the way the Woman took them. All of you have known about the curse since you were old enough to understand it. We never hid our history from each other. All we did with the spell was dull the pain a little.”

“I told you it was collective amnesia,” Brenna said to Fiona and Eva Grace. She could feel her temper stirring, however, as she turned back to Sarah and Frances. “What gave you the right to decide what should and shouldn't be remembered?”

“We protect this town.” Sarah's gaze was hard as iron on Brenna's. “That's what our ancestors sacrificed for—so we would have power. Without that sacrifice, none of us would be witches. New Mourne would be just another place in the mountains instead of a haven.”

“If the town survived at all,” Frances added. “It could have crumbled under the usual human prejudices and petty disagreements unless we intervened from time to time. Witches would have been driven out, faeries burned, druids destroyed, and shifters and weres killed.”

Delia frowned. “All that is true, but it seems to me that our family may have stretched the rules of the craft by dulling memories. We learn from the past.”

“What if you wiped out some important memory?” Fiona's question surprised Brenna. It wasn't often her sister spoke up against Sarah.

“We were careful,” Frances said.

“We did what we had to.” Sarah glared at each witch, challenging them to disagree. “Besides, why would anyone want to remember unpleasantness?”

“Or why would we want every outsider to take away all of our secrets?” Frances added. “How do you think they killed all those European witches during the Inquisition? Too many people knew their rituals and meeting places.”

Sarah nodded. “We have always used Remember-Not spells as a precaution for those that stumble into our world without becoming a part of us.”

“Of course,” Delia said, “I know visitors to New Mourne don't leave with our secrets. I just didn't know that spell was used on us or our friends and allies.”

“We choose the humans and supers who grow close to us with great care.” Frances looked at Brenna. “Your sheriff wouldn't know as much as he does if he wasn't trustworthy.”

“The only reason I allowed Fiona to embark on her Internet enterprise is because it focuses on her work as a medium,” Sarah added. “There's no mention of the coven or Connelly secrets. That would not be safe.”

“Yet our parents traveled the globe, lecturing about magic and becoming well-known as experts in the history and mythology of witchcraft,” Brenna pointed out. “Wasn't that a breach of the coven's secrets?”

Color flooded Delia's cheeks. “I never betrayed this coven. Neither has your father. My interest in the roots of magic and mysticism came from who I am. Your father was already interested when we met. Our family's stories and history inspired him more. Our goal was simple: protect the craft. What Frances says about the Inquisition is all too true and could be repeated today. Too many humans want to destroy what they don't understand.”

“Think of Fred Williams and his wife,” Frances said, shuddering. “They both grew up here, and they know just enough to be dangerous. We can't let them know everything. They would wipe out all supers if they could. They're our enemies, and we treat them as such.”

Brenna felt her anger drain. She also knew her history. In college, the subject of many of her required papers was witchcraft history. In Scotland, almost five thousand witches were executed during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. She supposed she understood why the coven might have chosen the Remember-Not spell to cope with what they faced.

However, it didn't solve her family's problems. She looked down at the pages in front of her again. “What I found today indicates the coven went even further than wiping out memories. During the Civil War, they decided they had to do something to appease the Woman in White, to end the discord in a town already wracked by war. One of the young witches chose death to save the town. She sacrificed herself.”

Delia gasped. On either side of her, Aunt Diane and Aunt Estelle turned pale and took her hands.

Maggie's tears began again. “My husband and daughter need me. It can't be me.”

“I'm not sacrificing anything,” Lauren said with a pout. “I've got too much to live for.”

“It should be me,” Eva Grace said quietly. “It's no secret that I'm the choice.”

Fiona said, “As the youngest, maybe it's supposed to me. Maybe that's why I've always been connected to the dead.”

“No,” Delia said, reaching toward her daughter. “Not you, dear.”

Fiona turned back to Brenna. “How did they choose the sacrifice? Was it a lottery?”

“She chose herself,” Brenna explained. “Her young husband died in the war, her baby daughter passed as an infant. She was a very strong witch according to the family member who wrote the history, but they said she felt she had less to live for than the coven members her age. She offered herself and the Woman took her over the falls. The work of the demon stopped. The town and the rest of the family went on with their lives.”

A hush fell around the table. There was no sound, even from Maggie.

“I think Rose did the same,” Frances murmured, looking troubled. “She was in love with that young criminal who ran moonshine and died on Bear Mountain.”

“But you and Doris said you weren't sure of her feelings for him,” Sarah protested.

Looking regretful, Frances said, “That's what we chose to say and we started to believe it, probably because of the Remember-Not spell. She blamed our curse and his association with her for his death. In the end, she may have decided to join him.”

Every head in the room swiveled back to Eva Grace. Brenna could sense them all wondering if Eva Grace would meet the same fate.

Eva Grace looked at Delia. “What about my mother? Did she want to die?”

Delia looked uncommonly fragile as she rubbed her forehead. “Your mother was depressed,” she admitted to the niece, who resembled her more than her own daughters. “She wouldn't tell anyone, even me, who your father was. None of us knew she was expecting a child. Her letters from Arizona were filled with school and work for six months, but she was pregnant before she left for school.”

“But she may have chosen to die?” Eva Grace pressed. “You think it could be possible?”

Delia looked miserable. “I'm not sure. That day is so fuzzy in my mind.”

“Because of the Remember-Not spell maybe?” Brenna suggested, unable to keep the sharpness out of her tone.

Sarah and Frances glared at her.

“We won't let anyone sacrifice herself,” Frances said.

“So we continue to wait?” Brenna asked.

“The trouble in town has ebbed since our encounter with the demon Tuesday night,” Sarah pointed out.

“But he was back the next day, trying to get to Inez,” Brenna reminded her.

“You prevented that,” Sarah retorted. “Your power was strong enough to hold him.”

Brenna was aghast. Her grandmother was choosing to ignore the obvious. “That was just a pause in the action. The demon is out there right now gathering strength. He and the Woman are sucking the very life out of the ground with this heat wave.”

“It's been hot here before,” Frances snapped.

“I can't believe all of you can't feel what's coming.” Brenna saw fear and doubt in the faces around the table. “The Woman and the demon are hoping we'll give up, that one of us will decide to give in and make the ultimate sacrifice. The Woman doesn't take. She makes us give in.”

“I have to get home to my family,” Maggie said, standing abruptly. “I have to be with my daughter, to protect her.” She darted out the door without a backward glance.

Diane stood as well, saying she should get to the hospital and make sure Doris was okay. Her mouth set in grim lines, Lauren went with her.

Brenna was distressed to see them go. The coven was crumbling.

Maggie's chair rocked forward, and then fell back with a crash to the floor. The papers on the table stirred.

“Stop it.” Fiona addressed an unseen presence. “We don't need you playing your tricks.”

The spirit ignored her command and knocked over the salt-and-pepper shakers on the table. A puff of dust blew out of the fireplace and a foul odor tinged the air.

“It's one of the ghosts I see all the time,” Fiona said. “She's very upset.”

“Even our ghosts are frightened,” Brenna told the remaining coven members. “We need a plan of action.”

Knowing the elders had no new possibilities to offer, Brenna reluctantly turned to her mother. “Any suggestions?”

“Your father and I have been studying the magic book,” Delia said. “We're thinking we should try another spell at the falls in an attempt to draw out the Woman.”

Brenna was uncertain. “By confronting her, wouldn't we be giving her what she wants?”