Page 72 of Uncharmed

Annie tried her best to control the shaking of her shoulders as she cried, desperate not to ruin the moment for Maeve. It was the strangest mixture of overwhelming emotions – even by her extreme standards. Joy and delight for Maeve, finally being able to make contact with the mother who she had longed for. But a deep, etched river of devastation that these were the circumstances for it, that such a good kid had been dealt such a hard hand. Life was cruel across all realms. And, selfishly, which she hated herself for, there was a greedy longing of her own for a parent who would say those words to her daughter and mean them unconditionally.

‘Annie, you okay?’ Maeve asked, bringing her back to the moment.

‘Of course! Don’t worry about me, these are happy tears!’ Annie beamed, sniffing.

‘Sweetheart, there’s not much time,’ Maeve’s mother said, softly enough so as not to interrupt, but with an urgency that made it clear there was a compelling purpose to her visit. She moved her way back around the table to face the trio. ‘Enid Cadmus,’ she said softly, introducing herself.

‘This is . . . this is Annie and Hal.’ Maeve stumbled over her own words.

‘I will never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for Maeve,’ Enid said, her hands wringing. She was only young herself; she couldn’t be more than twenty-five. She and Maeve didn’t look so alike at first glance, but something undefinable in their faces was noticeable now that they were both together, round freckled cheeks and determined dark eyes. ‘But I’m afraid I must ask you for one more favour.’

‘Anything,’ Annie said to reassure her. ‘I’d do anything for this girl.’

‘We both would,’ Hal said firmly.

‘I know it,’ Enid replied in a soft northern accent that matched Maeve’s. ‘It has brought me so much comfort to see.’

‘Is she safe?’ Hal asked with a stern gaze fixed on the visitor.

‘I don’t know, I . . . I don’t think so,’ Enid said, shaking her head and raising her eyes to the sky as though willing herself not to cry. Annie had heard the sound of her tears so many times before, but could hardly bear to see them for the first time.

‘It’s the Sorciety, isn’t it?’ Annie had to ask. She felt Hal’s head turn towards her at her left, but she kept her eyes determinedly focused on Enid as she awaited the answer. The spirit nodded slowly.

‘Word travels fast among the spellborn,’ Enid said sadly. ‘I have always known they’d come for Maeve, but I never dreamed that it would be so quickly after her magic came in. I thought we’d have more time, I thought she’d be older, more equipped to protect herself, to hide . . . But then she was paired with you, Annie, and everything sped up. I could sense that you were a keen necromancer and the chance was too great for me not to try to warn you both.’

‘Keen necromancer? Have we met the same witch?’ Maeve asked, bewildered. ‘What do you mean? Have you two met before?’

‘Annie has heard my worries for many, many years. You hold nightly communication, do you not?’ Enid asked, faltering slightly as though she may have been mixed up.

‘Yes,’ Annie said quietly, then shook her head. ‘Well, no . . . At least, I used to.’

‘I’ve sensed that the bridge has closed in recent days,’ Enid said gently, her expression kind and understanding. ‘So I had to seize my last opportunity at contact. I have been watching over Maeve ever since I crossed over and left her behind. But there’s only so much I can do beyond the veil.’

Annie swallowed hard. ‘They’re coming for her, aren’t they?’

Enid nodded, closing her eyes as though the pain were too great to bear. ‘The Heralds assumed that the Cadmus line was no more, that there was no one left to reveal their darkest secret. But the universe bringing you and Maeve together revealed otherwise. They know that Maeve is in fact alive and well – and powerful at that. They know it’s her, that she is the surviving Cadmus.’

‘Will someone please tell me what exactly is going on here?’ Hal jumped in, his voice raised a little frantically.

‘I second that. You’re talking in riddles. What are you both on about?’ Maeve said, exasperated.

‘Do you want to take this one?’ Enid said to Annie gently. Annie steeled herself for the whole truth to come tumbling out once the flood gates were opened.

‘There’s a lot more that I will tell you to fill in the gaps, I promise. But Enid and I, we’re familiar with one another. We’ve talked before. Several times, in fact,’ she said, turning back to Enid to find an encouraging look of camaraderie. ‘And it would seem that there is a tie between Maeve and a certain underground magical elite, which is unfortunate and . . .’

‘Underground magical elite?’ Hal stuttered, his grip tightening on Annie’s hand.

‘Keep up, cowboy,’ Maeve said with an eye-roll.

‘Right, an underground magical elite,’ Annie went on. ‘Which my family were also previously a part of, until my dad ruined everything. But that’s probably a story for another day.’ Annie held her forehead for a quick second, then returned her hands promptly to the circle when Enid’s outline wavered at the broken contact. ‘Enid, you’re going to have to fill in the rest of the blanks.’

‘Of course,’ Enid said, then turned her focus to Maeve. ‘My love, the Sorciety has, for many centuries, existed in secret with certain families at the helm, those with the most longstanding and arguably most powerful magical heritages. Between them, they hold an inordinate amount of the universe’s magic, and that powerful status is enforced by the deceitful nature of their club. They stockpile magic. They snatch it and they never share.’

Maeve blinked, then frowned. ‘Right . . .’

‘But there’s more to it. The strength of those particular families isn’t natural. It relies on a secretive ritual, the most abhorrent, twisted magic conjured by those at the head of the families. Spellwork that can bring wicchefolk close to the brink of death, just close enough that it blurs the lines of where their magic belongs, to upset the balance and confuse its direction. Then, while the ties to life are faded and the binds of magic are weak, they siphon off extra magic from the universe’s supply. Their power grows through dangerous sacrifice.’

‘There are six of those families,’ Annie added, confused at the revelations but doing her best to help. ‘Each with a Herald in charge at the Sorciety.’