Morgana and Aelys sat at the kitchen table, when Briar came out of an adjacent room carrying a large book. It was magnificent and had a leathery cover the color of caramel. Morgana sat up straighter. A strange force crackled between her and the grimoire, an electric charge that seemed to slow down time. A whisper raced around the room. Briar placed the grimoire onto the table, and after an awed silence, Morgana placed a hand on the cover. She ran her fingertips over the coven symbol, a gold waxing moon encircled by blue and purple gems. The whispering became louder and clearer, it was the voice of witches past. Morgana's hair floated around her face and she felt as if lightning crackled through her veins.
"Morgana," Aelys's voice trembled. "What's happened to your eyes?"
There was a large, stained mirror on the wall opposite Morgana. She glanced at her reflection and her irises glowed amber, refracting light like cut crystal. They were strange. Inhuman.
Briar smiled. "It's been a while since I've seen eyes like that."
"I've read about this," Morgana murmured. "When witches used their magic, their eyes glowed."
"It's an effect from channeling Elysia's combined elements," Briar said.
"How am I doing this?"
"It is your nature to channel Elysia's magic," said the grimoire.
Morgana swallowed, and glanced down at the grimoire, feeling as if she was on the precipice of something important. Morgana pulled it closer. Then glanced over at Aelys, whose eyes were wide.
"Only a witch who is descended from the Maiden Coven can open that grimoire," Briar said.
Morgana placed both hands on the cover and felt a strange pull, as if the grimoire was sucking her energy. She closed her eyes, and the grimoire began to vibrate. The table shook, rattling the cups and biscuits. Briar's teacup smashed onto the floor.
"Morgana?" Aelys's voice was shrill.
In her mind's eye Morgana raced through a dark tunnel, to where there was a door at the end, a door framed with light.
It was a way out.
A new beginning.
Sweat beaded her temple as she ran through the darkness, chest burning. It got closer and closer, and she smiled, victory within reach. It was like she was on a rocky ship approaching a lighthouse in the dead of night. Morgana slowed to a jog and after what felt like hours she was finally at the door. Everything in the cottage stopped shaking and silence followed. Light pulsed around the door like a heartbeat, and beyond it were hushed voices, warm and inviting. The Maiden Coven. Morgana pushed the door open and there was a loud click of something releasing, of a great weight lifting. She opened her eyes and peeled back the cover of the grimoire. It made a cracking sound because it was the first time the grimoire had been opened in a thousand years. The whispering voices heaved a collective sigh.
Briar smiled, and Aelys's hand went to her mouth.
The smell of herbs and musty pages filled the air, along with the sharp bite of iron because all the spells had been written in blood. Morgana paused, throat tightening, as the full weight of the situation finally hit her.
She was a descendant of the Maiden Coven.
This grimoire was a piece of her family, of her history.
She turned the yellow pages slowly, unsure of what she was looking for. There was spilled wax, dried herbs, and feathers accompanied by strange drawings of animal anatomy and dancing witches. There were various spells that ranged from healing injuries, to making gardens grow, and to strengthening the elements. Morgana reached the middle of the book to a blank page where the latter half was stuck together by a dark shimmery cloud.
"Those spells are bound until you gain the strength to unlock them, sister. They will serve your true purpose. But until then you will need to learn the craft and strengthen your elements," said the grimoire.
"What? I can't do that, what if my magic hurts the fae and faeries?" Morgana asked.
On the blank page a diary entry appeared.
"Here is the truth of what happened to your ancestors."
A familiar power brewed inside Morgana. It was the same power as when she'd scried, and Morgana knew what she had to do.
"I want you to link hands and join me," Morgana said to Aelys and Briar.
Briar nodded and held out a hand. Aelys had gone very pale.
"What are you doing?" Aelys looked as if she was going to flee the room.
"I'm going to scry again, but this time I want to take you all with me. We're going to go inside the vision."
"What? How do you know how to do that?"
"I have a feeling that I can do it," Morgana murmured. "It's instinct."
"You have a feeling?" Aelys stared at her. "Having a feeling's not good enough Morgana, what if we get stuck inside this vision and can't get out?"
"We won't get stuck. When the time is right, the vision will disappear, like it did last time."
The whispering voices got louder.
Aelys pursed her lips and glanced at Morgana's outstretched hand.
"You'll be safe, I promise."
Aelys's face was screwed up in a reluctant grimace. Then she sighed. "Fine." She grabbed Briar and Morgana's hands.
Morgana pulled her power back as if it were a wave, then she spread it over the page as the power surged forth. A grey mist that smelled of thunderstorms exploded around them. The air churned and howled as if they were inside a storm, the remaining teacups and biscuits flew off the table and crashed into the walls. Distantly, Morgana heard Aelys shriek. The wind lashed Morgana's eyes and almost ripped her hair out. It was just too much, then just as suddenly the wind died.
Heaving gasps filled the silence.
Briar had a hand to her chest and her necklaces were askew.
"What was that?" Aelys's hair was windswept.
Morgana brushed a stray lock of hair from her mouth, skin cold.
After a moment, murmuring voices and the crackle of a fireplace weaved through the room. Flowery fae scents wafted as the mist disappeared, revealing a stone room in front of them filled with rich tapestries. It was as if half of Briar's cottage was missing and replaced by the vision. Morgana recognized this room as the same one she had dreamed about, where the council members and coven leaders had met. Due to its walls, Morgana now recognized the room as part of the old castle, before the Aeperians defected from Golah Court. Seated around the mahogany table were all the Golight Lords wearing fine suits and jewels. The High Seer was there too, cheeks fatter, less wrinkled, and more lucid than when Morgana had last seen him. He wore a pale cowl that covered part of his grey hair.
Dim sunlight filtered through a red stained glass window, casting an eerie tint over Erik's face. He was seated at the head of the table and wore a dark blue suit with gold embroidery.
"I've called this meeting because you are the only lords who want what is best for fae-kind," Erik said.
"Are we really keeping the Aeperoses out of this?" Lord Elwyn asked, plucking a chocolate covered raspberry from a bowl and biting into it. Chocolate flaked onto his green suit and his gold rings winked in the light.
"Of course we are," answered Tolvar Auron, a lord who'd married Erik's sister, Gwynn. He was bald with a white wispy beard, and he wore a tan velvet suit that looked as if it were two sizes too small. The buttons strained against his belly and the cuffs squeezed his wrists. His face was red and swollen from drinking too much wine. "The Aeperoses don't care who rule Elysia and neither do the Frigards or Vales."
Tolvar had been the previous Lord of the Auron Territory until he was found dead by Gwynn, eleven years ago. His wine had been poisoned with hemlock, and his attendant Cecilia, an Aeperian fae, was blamed. It didn't help that she and Tolvar had been having an affair, and that Gwynn had discovered this affair a few days prior to his death. Cecilia proclaimed her innocence and love for Tolvar until her execution. Instead, she'd accused Gwynn of murdering Tolvar because of their affair, but no one believed her.
"You are right, Your Majesty. Over time the witches have grown stronger," Lord Undine said, dark brows knitting together. He wore a turquoise suit, adorned with seashells and pearls.
"Which is why we need to wipe them out before they overrule us." Erik clasped his hands. "As it stands, the witches are now the strongest creatures in Elysia. Most of them can wield all the elements, some of the older witches, mainly the Crone Coven, can wield only two just like my family."
"Your family is a blessing to the fae from the Goddess, Your Majesty," said the High Seer. "It's a sign that we may have a fighting chance against these witches."
"But how do we defeat them? They're stronger than us," Lord Dranadak asked, jaw tightening. He wore a charcoal suit that matched his stormy gaze.
"Our strength doesn't lie in our elemental abilities." Erik's chair scraped back. "It lies in our numbers. For now, there are more fae and faeries in Elysia than there are witches." He strolled around the table. "In order to defeat the witches, we must make them the enemy of all fae and faeries, and in turn, the enemy of Elysia."
"How do you propose we do that?" Moraxes raised a brow. He wore a plum suit with silver filigreed buttons.
"We lie of course," Erik said. "We tell the rest of Elysia's citizens that the witches' magic is poisoning the land, which in turn threatens their lives."
"No one will believe us," scoffed Lord Undine.
"They will. When we poison our own lands and sicken ourselves as proof."
The whole room went silent.
"You want us to poison our lands?" Lord Elwyn spluttered.
"You do know that if we do this, none of us will be able to access our elements? We'll be weakened, sick. Some of the faery tenants may die," Lord Auron said.
"It is a small sacrifice for the greater good. We need to show the citizens that the witches are a threat, that they're a pestilence to fae-kind."
The lords shifted uncomfortably, except for Lord Moraxes and Dranadak who were as still as statues.
"If we leave the witches free to practice magic, to grow stronger, then one day it will be them ruling our lands. They will take your family's riches, your properties, and your legacies, and it'll be because we let that happen. Do you want that? Do you want to see a witch ruling the halls of your manor? Do you want your children and your grandchildren to watch witchlings take what was rightfully theirs?"
"No," Dranadak said softly.
"The king is right. We're the ones who've ruled for centuries. There is a reason why all fae have long lives, it is because the Goddess has deemed us fit to rule, not the witches," Moraxes said.
"Precisely," Erik said. "We do this and the rest of Elysia will have no choice but to believe that the witches are the enemy. An affront to Elysia and its citizens."
"And as discussed with King Erik." Balthazaar grinned. "I will receive a false vision from the Goddess where I will declare that the witches are an abomination, thus cementing our claims as truth."
"No one will be able to argue with that." Lord Undine smirked.
"What happens when we turn all the fae and faeries against the witches?" asked Lord Elwyn.
"We will pass a decree to prevent them from practicing magic." Erik sat down and poured himself a goblet of wine. "Our scholars have found that the more they practice, the stronger they get. Which is why each generation has been stronger than the last."
"The witches won't stand for it."
"I hope they don't." Erik sipped his wine. "I'm counting on them to break the decree so it will give us reason to execute them."