“Darling, you’ve been very introspective for the past week,” my nan comments as she stops at a red light. “Not that it isn’t warranted, but it might help to talk about what you’re thinking and feeling. If you’re not ready, I understand, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. You don’t have to process this alone.”
Stuffing my hand into my skirt pocket, I run my thumb along the crude lynx engraving on the back of the Lyncas arcane focus. “That whole night is my fault. All those people died because of me, because I didn’t figure it out sooner, and when I had the choice to stay or go, I abandoned them.”
“That seems like a particularly harsh oversimplification of what happened, and an impressive abundance of aggrandizing how much control you have over the agency of others,” she muses, carefully accelerating when the light turns green.
“Nan, I have used magic multiple times to stop groups of people from being able to move to the point where I had to modify the spell so they’d keep breathing.” I squeeze the stone in my hand as I look out the passenger window. My reflection looks back with judgment. “That spell alone could have made a difference, but I didn’t do anything to help them. I just left because I cared more about my hatred for my father than innocent lives.”
She sighs while turning onto the main road toward home. “Callie, my sweet granddaughter, you are far too intelligent to believe that.”
Her matter-of-fact tone is surprising, and I can’t help but stare at her profile. “That sounded more like an insult than a compliment.”
“It’s currently an observation.” She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as she appears to collect her thoughts. “I can appreciate how responsible you feel for others because of your magic. It’s understandable, considering what the future holds for you, and I’m sorry for my part in adding to that daunting future.” She glances at me, sympathy and apology in her expression. “However, you’re not expected to be prepared for that future now, nor should you hold yourself to that standard. My darling, you are only eighteen. You’re still growing into who you will become.” She reaches over to grasp my free hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “That night, you were given a difficult choice which was influenced by trauma. Choosing to face your father to save Felix was a brave thing to do.”
“But I didn’t save…” I start to correct, only to be shushed into silence.
“You’ve had your turn to beat yourself up,” she states, giving my hand a little shake. “Now, you’re going to listen. The events of that night are not your fault. That responsibility lies exclusively on your father’s shoulders, may he rot in hell, and you didn’t abandon the people at the dance. You knew four of your very capable boyfriends were in there fighting to protect the people inside, and as soon as you had the opportunity, you called me for help. I just wished you’d told me the whole truth before you hung up.”
“Sorry,” I respond quietly, gazing down at our joined hands.
She slows down as we approach our long driveway. “Darling, that wasn’t a request for an apology. I don’t blame you for the choices you made.” She takes her hand back just long enough so she can turn the steering wheel before taking my hand once more. “Regardless of your perception of that night, punishing yourself for what you perceive as past mistakes won’t serve you. It’s over now. You can’t go back and change it. All we can do from this point on is move forward with the wisdom hindsight provides.”
Her words heal some of my fresh, jagged pieces, and I wipe the building tears from my eyes with my sleeve. When we come to a stop outside our house, I pull the Lyncas arcane focus from my pocket and place the blue stone on her palm. “It isn’t quite over yet. We have one last goodbye.”
My nan closes her fist around the stone, and the simple chain hangs between her fingers. “What do you mean? Why do you have the Lyncas arcane focus? Did Carlotta give it to you before she left?”
I shake my head as I grab our umbrellas from behind my seat. “My father had it. It’s how he protected himself against my magic—not that it did him any good. I remembered what you taught me about how those kinds of necklaces only protect the person from direct spells being cast on them. Turns out, the floor beneath him was still very susceptible to fire, even one started with magic.”
“Death is too good for that detestable monster,” she seethes, the anger in her eyes only heightened by her empathy for all I went through that night.
“I agree,” I reply, handing her one of the umbrellas. I’m not ready to tell her that there’s nothing left of him to torture in hell.
As we step out of the car, the rain only grows stronger as it pounds on the thin canvas over our heads. We’re both quiet for the short walk into the house, but after we pass the threshold and put our umbrellas away, she holds out her hand with the stone nestled in her palm.
Apprehension tugs at the corners of her eyes as she looks at the stone that is nearly a replica of the one around my neck. “This arcane focus shouldn’t have been able to repel your spells. For it to be able to, it must contain the life force of several witches—not that I would put it past the bastard, but he was completely cut off from witch kind when he was excommunicated.”
After removing the painful heels, I busy myself by making a pot of tea using my nan’s tea set. “As far as I can tell, there’s only one soul inside. The rest came from me.”
“From you? How?” She crosses into the kitchen and gently stops me in the middle of putting the tea tray together. “What did he do?”
I look down at the beautiful porcelain set, unable to meet her eyes. “Let’s just say I have a better understanding of why you’re so protective of my blood, and the bastard practically had barrels of it after everything he did to me.”
She wraps her arms around me and holds me in a fierce embrace. “Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry. There are no words strong enough to adequately portray the injustice you suffered because of that monster, nor is there a punishment severe enough to even begin to match his crimes.”
Breathing in her familiar rose perfume, I fill myself with all the good that’s happened to me since I came to Twin Cedar Pass and use it as a salve on the open wound my father’s return created. After several seconds of quietly being held, I pull back and wipe the tear tracks from my cheeks. “Well, my father left us one twisted silver lining with his death.”
“His death is more than a silver lining,” my nan comments with that controlled anger that frightens the guys.
“True, but that wasn’t what I meant.” I finish prepping the tray and carry the tea pot and its matching set of items to the kitchen table. “Let me show you.”
When we both sit down, I take her hand and cover it with mine, the Lyncas stone nestled between our palms. Her eyebrows knit together when I join our other hands, but she doesn’t voice her questions, recognizing a fellow witch’s need for focus. I close my eyes and center myself as I breathe. Using my nan as an anchor, I reach for the magic inside the stone, tentatively searching for the familiar, raw magic that constitutes a soul. When I find my mother, her spirit is far more nebulous than a typical ghost, floating within the captured magic of the stone.
As if I’m trying to catch a leaf drifting on a tranquil pond, I mentally scoop her up and guide her through me, similar to how I transferred Felix into James’s body, only with less consciousness lost. Strengthening her with the magic that flows within me, I open my eyes and breathe out the word, “Release.”
Standing as the final piece of our trinity is the woman who has shaped so much of my life despite me only knowing her visage through photographs. She appears lost and confused, which is fair enough for having been trapped in a necklace for fifteen years.
“Lina?” Mildred’s voice cracks as tears immediately begin dripping down her cheeks. “My baby, is that you?”
“Hi, Mum,” she replies with a soft, sympathetic smile. “It’s really me.” She looks around the room and then down at her hands, her pale skin having the typical golden glow of a ghost. “It appears that events have not gone in my favor.”
