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  “I don’t understand. Why not tell me before?” Though she felt it obvious why, she yearned to have been afforded the luxury of such knowledge long ago.

  “Do not trust your husband, Lord Reegan.” Janice grabbed her daughter by the shoulders, firm and painful grasps digging nails and fingers into the skin beneath the dress. “I could not tell you before, and would not have until the day you reached the inheritance, but we have no time now. Your father will be here in a week’s time to take me back to our homeland, and I cannot say when I will see you again after that.” Janice’s strength was failing her, she knew. From a hidden pocket within the folds of her gown, Janice produced a small, red-leather bound book. It was faded, well worn, but symbols decorated its outer most edges in golden shimmers. “This is the book of our lineage. I will teach you what I can from it, but you must promise, Eliza, promise to never let Lord Reegan, or anyone else, know of its existence. Hide it away in a place it may never be found, where only you will know. You must also never...” Janice said the word vehemently. “Never expose your powers. Not to anyone, especially Lord Reegan. The moment he knows you have these abilities…” Janice’s face was painted with an anguished expression. “He will take every single thing you hold dear from you.” Eliza had tears glimmering at the rims of her eyes. An unspeakable terror had staked itself to her very soul; she could feel it snug against her skin.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Tomorrow we begin your training. Tonight you must use all of the teachings I have provided you to act as though you know nothing of this truth, nothing of who and what you are.”

  “A…priestess?” Eliza fumbled on the word.

  “Yes, my dearest, and undoubtedly a powerful one at that. Make no mistake, my daughter, here in this land they will call you a witch, which is a death sentence to you in this part of the world.”

  “Death…sentence? How do you know I have any such power?” Eliza took the book in hand, feeling its surface, and at the subtle knowledge that many a powerful woman before her had held and used this book, her hands began to tremble.

  Placing a comforting hand upon Eliza’s, Janice pulled her daughter’s attention back. “You were born on a night when the rarest of stars appears and a new moon. No other priestess before has been born on such a night as that. It is a blessing; do not fear this power. Know this, my most darling daughter, this power can only ever be as good, or evil, as you decide it to be. Your actions alone will determine that outcome, so do not fear, but trust your heart and all that your father and I have taught you.” With that, Janice pulled Eliza tightly against her chest, hugging her fiercely to hide her own crumbling demeanor, when a knock came at the door.

  Wiping away tears, the two parted. “Yes?” Janice responded in her confident manner, no signs of the brittle state she felt.

  “Dinner is almost ready, Lady Janice and Lady Eliza. Lord Reegan requests you join him and his company in the dining hall.” A woman’s voice, old, stern, Mrs. Deboan. Upon first meeting her, Eliza had summed her to be a walking skeleton dressed fully in the darkest gown she had ever seen, one generally reserved for mourning.

  “She must be mourning the loss of her sense of humor,” her mother had quipped after that first meeting, drawing out the first true laughter Eliza had afforded herself since their departure from their home. “I doubt she will ever get that back at her age. How is she still able to walk?” Eliza had laughed while secretly considering her mother’s efforts to alleviate some of the anxiety she had felt; otherwise such comments would have been cited as rude and unladylike.

  “We will be out shortly, thank you, Mrs. Deboan.” Silence signaled the old crone had left.

  Eliza and Janice left the library, stopping only to hide the precious heirloom within Eliza’s room. Along the large window that spanned nearly the entire wall opposite the room’s entrance awaited a bench with storage beneath its cushions. At the far right end of the bench, Janice lifted the seat and its plush cushion and felt within. A plank of wood, and undoubtedly, stone held firm. “Here,” Janice whispered to Eliza.

  “But how…” Eliza puzzled only a moment before a gentle, pale yellow light filled the darkness from within, and the space opened. Eliza stood, mouth agape in shock, with the book in her hand, waiting to eagerly hide the precious item. Janice took the book swiftly and quickly waved her hand before the opening. Once more, the hard surface was back in place and the seat closed.

  “The spell I used is simple enough, and even now you should be able to use the most basic of spells. Give it a try, quickly.” Janice pulled Eliza to where she had been kneeling, guiding her hand to rest just before the board. “All you need say is ‘Reveal’ and see it opening in your mind, and ‘Conceal’ while visualizing the surface back in place. Give it a try.”

  Janice waited in place, still holding Eliza’s hand to guide her through the circular motions. The board did not immediately disappear as it had when Janice had willed it, but Janice urged Eliza to try again, and focus. She mastered the command on the second round and closed the portal on the first try. Eliza found the glow was not only a subtle, pretty shimmer, but warm in her hands.

  “Fetch your cloak; there is a chill tonight.” Janice winked at her daughter, her eyes more alive than she had ever known before.

  Eliza stood a moment, taking in the secrets of the mother she realized she did not know, before Janice provided her guidance to the large oak armoire and opened it. The smell of lavender and roses issued forth, rather than the earthy tones Eliza anticipated. Just as they had pulled out three separate cloaks, a knock came from the door, with Lord Reegan’s voice following.

  “Lady Eliza, Lady Janice?” His voice was velvet and silk, an allure Eliza now heard the danger within. She wondered a moment if perhaps her mother’s warnings had not put her on edge all the more, or if something else was coming alive within her own conscience.

  “You may enter, Lord Reegan.” Janice took the lead in all these things, for the moment.

  Upon opening the door, Lord Reegan peered in, seeing the two shuffling between wraps for Eliza. “Pardon the intrusion, but I came to see if you were yet prepared for dinner. We have guests this evening.” A sharp smile cracked across his perfect face. “Is it too cold for you, Lady Eliza? I can ensure the fire is well lit and the dining hall the perfect temperature for comfort.”

  He had only taken a half step when Janice halted him with her words. “We will be joining you presently, Lord Reegan. There has indeed been too much chill this evening for Eliza, but upon your words we shall make haste to join you and your guests. Are we appropriately dressed for such company?” Janice paused in her returning of the wraps to regard his response.

  “There is no need for formalities. You know all of our guests this evening. Shall I accompany you both back?”

  “Please, do not let us detain you from entertaining the guests.” At that Janice curtsied, and Eliza followed suit, keeping her eyes to the ground.

  “Of course, how very considerate of you, Lady Janice.” His sardonic tone, though well masked, was not missed by either, causing Eliza’s eyes to dart up to his just as he was bowing to leave. A fleeting moment of surprise betrayed his eyes as theirs met before he exited, leaving the door wide open for their own departure. The two waited a moment longer before making any movements.

  “Remember my warnings, Eliza.” Her mother was whispering again. “There is something not quite right with that man, nor that crone. He should not have come, let alone so swiftly from the dining hall.”

  Eliza nodded, considering her mother’s advice. Understanding of a sort began to creep in as she walked the distance to the dining hall from her room, then included the amount of time that had passed since they had left the library. Mrs. Deboan was not exactly a snail, but she was not expected to win any races for her speed, either.

  Entering the dining hall, the two discovered Reegan at the head of the table with familiar faces indeed lining either side with Zachariah, Francis, the young girl w
ho had befriended Eliza, Pearl, and her parents, the Lord and Lady Keyblan. As they were seated, greetings were made and the servants began distributing the drinks and food. Eliza had been placed between Reegan and Pearl, across from her mother, Zachariah and Francis, who kept his reserved vigil at the end. Pearl’s parents sat just beside her, flitting idle conversation between each other and on occasion engaging Lord Reegan, and only Lord Reegan.

  “I understand you are still providing studies to Eliza?” Reegan had done well to keep the conversation balanced amongst all his guests, but the hour was coming to an end.

  Janice finished her wine before responding, the lighting in the room having dimmed over the course of that hour and setting a mood Janice found herself uncomfortable within. “Yes, truly a mother’s job is never done. And for how young Eliza is, there is much yet I had hoped to teach her before such—” she paused, considering her words and the guests around her, “—a blessing befell our family.” Janice smiled curtly, the Keyblans not taking one notion to the undercurrent of bitterness she felt.

  “My Lady Eliza, have all your studies been strictly academic?” Ignoring her words, Reegan sought Eliza’s attentions, though she had barely spoken throughout the dinner.

  A surprised expression plastered Eliza’s face as she swallowed her food, napkin covering her mouth before she could properly answer. “Mostly, Lord Reegan. Of course as any lady I have been learning the piano and harp, as well as sophistication in art.” Eliza paled and blushed simultaneously under the scrutiny she felt bearing down upon her from the other guests.

  “Then we shall have to change that, as I imagined as such. Zachariah will be training you with the sword.” Reegan’s words silenced any remaining conversation the Keyblans had resumed, the mother’s mouth agape in equiform to Janice’s. While all others may have found the announcement shocking, none did so more than Zachariah who kept opening and closing his own mouth as a fish stranded on land.

  “Is that right?” was all Zachariah could muster in the moment. His ribs still ached from the cracks they had received just hours before.

  “It is.” Reegan smiled as he waved to the servants to clear away the main course of the roast lamb, potatoes, and soup to signal for dessert.

  “Why ever should my daughter need to learn any styles of fighting, Lord Reegan?” Janice found her tongue and bearings once more.

  “My preference is to have a wife, a lady of these lands who is capable and confident in all aspects; she must be strong of both mind and body. It is how all those of my own family have been raised, and I would expect no less from my wife, as we will one day have children of our own.”

  At that Lady Keyblan choked on her wine, sputtering the remnants back into her goblet. Janice had no words to match his bold statement, only a fury that pitted itself in her priestess heart. She wanted to burn him to ash then and there, be done with the whole ordeal, but she knew that would prove disastrous.

  “Well, Eliza, what do you say to that?” Janice only offered a warm, encouraging smile.

  “When does the training begin?” Eliza and her mother kept the knowledge of her father training her in private to themselves; she could see from Zachariah the disdain he felt. She puzzled over why he hated her in such a fashion, not having ever known her before.

  “One week. After your parents begin their return home. I believe you will approve of being granted the remaining time between you two, Lady Janice?” Reegan waited patiently, fork and knife in hand prepared to cut into the hot pie before him. The smell of apple and cinnamon steamed into the air through the cross-sectioned crust.

  “With gratitude, Lord Reegan.” Though half of the guests accepted her tone to be civil, remarkably so by Lady Keyblan’s measure, the others caught the icy tones she slipped his direction.

  “Excellent!” Reegan exclaimed and marked the beginning of dessert.

  “You’re punishing me.” Zachariah sat in the winged, black chair opposite Reegan, eyes burning a hole into the man’s face.

  “Not at all,” Reegan responded without so much as a glance. “I meant what I said. If she is to remain my wife, and bear my heirs, I expect her to be able to protect herself and said children.”

  “Is it possible she won’t remain your wife? Would you divorce her, then?”

  Reegan released a slight sigh, trying to signal his exhaustion of any conversation with Zachariah. “No, I mean if I don’t kill her along with her parents, when the time comes.” Reegan refused to look up from the papers he read through, completely attentive to their exposition, but he caught from the corner of his left eye the way Zachariah stiffened. “Why the tension, cousin?”

  “You would kill that child, why?”

  Now Reegan granted his attention to Zachariah. “Why not? She could be a greater danger if allowed to live, which is why everything has to appear as if I am trying to protect her, trying to give her the fortification her family cannot afford her now. What is your hesitation, after you were so willing to share your great hatred towards her and her family earlier this afternoon?” Reegan was regarding Zachariah with a guarded look, his posture straightened, curiosity piqued.

  “I do hate them, and the fact that she is Effren’s daughter does disgust me.” Zachariah struggled over the moral dilemma he felt told him it was wrong. “But she’s just a child and not responsible for her parent’s actions. Was that not your point?”

  A creeping smile spread across Reegan’s face. “Yes, and I plan to use her to the fullest of my capabilities. This evening when I left the dining hall abruptly, do you know why I left?”

  The teasing in his voice irritated Zachariah. “To fetch them yourself, but I imagined that was a show of your power under your own roof.”

  “No, my young cousin.” Now the smile was wicked, unrelentingly cruel somehow. “That mother and daughter are just as rumor claimed. Did you know Lady Janice is not from our lands, but from across the seas?” Reegan leaned over the table several letters rested atop, a candelabra burning six candles within its brassy clutches casting shadows on Reegan’s handsome face. He was a villain in that mold. “Priestesses they are called back in their homeland, but here they are known as witches. This new wife of mine, she undoubtedly will, or has, been entrusted the tome of spells. She can be a powerful asset, so long as she knows her place.”

  Zachariah’s warm complexion should have appeared all the brighter but instead paled under the light of the candles and firelight. “A witch? Are you mad, so desperate you would put all at such a risk?” His voice was a low rushing of anger and confusion. His own parents having been killed by a witch, he could not stand for such an existence within his personal realm.

  Reegan’s smile faded, and the shadows seemed to meld with his face, becoming a mask. “You will teach her, you will act as if this knowledge has not been passed between us, and you will not act against my will, Zachariah.” As he demanded obedience, Reegan picked up the gold letter opener and held the blade to Zachariah’s jugular in one singular motion almost too quickly executed to be followed, applying just enough pressure to bring a bead of sweat to his brow and causing the thin skin protecting his throat to turn white with the pressure.

  Zachariah barely nodded, afraid any further depth of motion would slit his own throat. He had been acutely aware of the changes Reegan had been undergoing as of late in his temper and personality, becoming far more aggressive and merciless. He was not the same kind-hearted cousin Zachariah recalled from their youth, but some darker visage in that stead.

  A WEEK WAS barely a speck of sand on the shores of time, but Janice made that time with Eliza count for every miniscule moment they were allowed. She taught Eliza the importance of the words, emphasis on syllables, how to learn on her own, mastering their abilities without speaking. She also showed her spells that had been forbidden, for their price would be too high; it was unknown and dangerous to meddle with.

  “In all of Auria, nothing can be more powerful than a self-sacrifice,” Janice had explained on t
he final day, the day Effren was to arrive, in a field still within sight of the castle, but far enough away she did not fear being overheard. “Never use these three spells, Eliza. Not even in your most desperate hour; you must avoid it.”

  “Then why are they in the book?” Eliza’s eyes held a healthy fear, Janice noticed.

  “Because these were provided from our God, the one who made all and connects all, who breathed life into our limbs; this is a spell God gave to us. You are not meant to use this spell, one yet to come will. A child born during a lunar eclipse, when the brightest star in our night sky of Auria, the star Havernia, shines during its once a millennia arrival; that child will be the one destined to use this spell. Remember this, and…” Janice bit her lip, her nerves finally getting the better of her as she feared Effren’s arrival. The uncertainty if she would be bringing their daughter back with them or leaving her behind was a mountain of strain upon her lungs. “Should you have a daughter of your own, pass these words along to her.” Silently, in that moment and those since the revelation of her daughter’s betrothal, she prayed for her daughter to be barren. It was cruel, an unthinkable act for a mother, but she prayed with all she could that Eliza would be barren, or miscarry any children that would be had between her and Reegan.

  “I don’t know if I can do this.” Eliza’s frame shuddered as she struggled to withhold the sobs that had begun their assault against her control. Janice pulled Eliza tightly against her; the air was chilly, even for the time of year. Janice’s warmth offered some comfort to Eliza, but it was not enough to save her from the heartbreak that ripped through her last wall of defense as she felt her mother’s chest heave with sorrow.

  “Hush now, Eliza,” Janice cooed to her daughter. “We will never be so far away we cannot reach you.” She continued to comfort her daughter as she petted her hair and wiped away her tears. “You were raised as a lady of the house of Charan, and you are the strongest of us all, my darling.” Janice pressed a firm kiss to her daughter’s forehead as a bell tolled from the heart of the estate. Effren had arrived.