Page 41 of The Banshee and the Warlock

I nod. "I understand that." Mostly because I spent the rest of my classes after the library secretly reading the book on banshees that Cethin got for me. "I want to know how to accept my powers. How do I use them?"

"You simply have to trust," the woman says. "You must heed what your magic tells you when it comes to death."

"And foretelling it? Is that really something I have to do?"

"It is part of us." There is a mournful note in her voice. "But it is not who you are."

"My mate told me that," I respond, the words feeling somewhat foreign on my tongue. Probably because I haven't told anyone what Cethin is to me yet. "That I am more than just a banshee."

To my surprise, the woman smiles. "You are more than just a banshee. That is your bloodline and your birthright, but it is not you. Perhaps you are more ready for the knowledge we bear than I first thought."

"What knowledge?" Should I be nervous about this?

"There are things that you may know that you are not aware you know. Have you not been able to tell when things are going to die?"

The hamster.

"Yes."

"That is part of the ancient powers we have," the woman responds. "Have you met your familiar?"

"Yes. Thistle, she's a raven."

She nods approvingly. "An excellent companion for a banshee. You must accept her and bond with her. Bring her into your life properly. Sometimes she will be able to help and guide you in ways that nothing else can."

Like bringing Cethin to me when I was upset.

"How do I do that?" I ask.

"I do not know the rules of the world you live in."

"I'll find out," I promise.

"If you believe you are ready, then we shall grant you the information you seek about your powers," the woman says.

"I believe I am. What will happen if I'm not?"

"Then this will hurt a great deal," she responds.

"Ah." It's a risk, but I fully believe what I'm saying. "I'm ready." I can't move into working out how this is a part of me if it isn't one. I have to fully know what I am and how my magic works in order to make that a reality.

"Close your eyes."

I take a deep breath and do as she says. I don't know what to expect from this, but I know it's the right thing to do.

Wailing starts to build from the assembled women, and I feel magic pulse through the air in response. It gets colder and the air swirls, bringing the sound of their voices with it. Something within me tugs towards the sound, wanting to be part of it.

No, not even wanting, it's like I need to be part of it. Which I suppose makes sense in that this will one day be me communicating with future banshees of my bloodline.

I open my mouth and begin to let out the same keening wail as the women around me. It isn't the scream from my previous dreams, it's more harmonious and doesn't hurt.

I can sense the old woman step forward and touch my forehead.

Thoughts vanish as all kinds of images flash through my mind. It's centuries of knowledge and use of banshee magic, how to recognise the dying, when to do something about it, and how to deal with the sorrow it causes. Sometimes, I recognise one of the faces as belonging to one of the women who are surrounding me, but without their names, that's useless information. All I really need to know is that they're part of my bloodline and that their magic is now part of me.

The wailing ceases, and I open my eyes, surprised to find that all but one of the younger women from the circle has disappeared. She smiles at me with sadness in her eyes and steps forward.

"Anja," she says. "You've grown since I last saw you."