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“Why not have us see this first?” Theseus frowned, reaching down to take the papers. “Instead, you had her work on a painting, which now has witches on our doorsteps.”
“Theseus,” Rhea sneered, not liking the tone in Theseus’s voice for sure. She had that mom glare again.
“While you both were enjoying the gardens, I searched for it again but could not find it. I thought to have her use magic to undo the spellbind on the painting was an easier step. She fell drunk before I could. Then you refused to let her out of your room this morning. So, if you must lay blame on me, also lay it at yourself,” Sigbjørn stated amused, and Theseus hung his head, shutting his mouth. I was sure his father said more in his mind. Sigbjørn’s attention came back to me. “Witches enchant their spell books in many different ways. But all of them keep them in a place they be
lieve is safe for it holds all their knowledge and history.”
I glanced back down at the book on the table. Could it really be that simple? All the knowledge and history I had lost was in a book in the Thorbørn family library.
“I do not wish to rush you, sister, but there are homicidal witches hiding in wait about our country,” Arsiein stated impatiently, causing Atarah to elbow him.
“Right,” I muttered, reaching down and grabbing it upon doing so. The book shifted again and changed into a classic black and white composition notebook that grade-schoolers used. On the front in crayon, in a child’s handwriting the name…
Druella Zirie…Omeron. What?
The whole world seemed to slow down as I opened to the first page. There in the same crayon and in the same writing, it read:
“My name is Druella Zirie Omeron,
I am eight years old,
I am from Bymoor, Virginia.
My dad is Dovev Omeron.
My mom is Zirie Omeron.
They are gone, so uncle Axel takes care of me.
He teaches my best friend, Simone and me magic.
We learn magic because we are witches.
I am a witch.”
I stopped reading, shaking my head.
“This can’t be right,” I whispered. “My last name is Monroe.”
“No, it’s an anagram.” Hinrik stared at the book in my hand, pointing to the letters. “Change the words...Monroe becomes Omeron.”
“So, she is not just an Omeron coven witch. She is an actual Omeron?” Ulrik stared wide at me. “She is the niece of that maniac Axel Omeron?”
“And apparently, he wants his niece back,” Melora stated, but I shook my head, tossing the book onto the table. It changed forms again, but I didn’t care.
“Keep reading, Druella,” Sigbjørn said, but I didn’t want too. I didn’t want to know more. I wanted to throw the book, but when I looked down and saw the words, I couldn’t help it.
“Witches protect witches from the monsters.
I will protect us from the monsters.
But all monsters aren’t monsters.
Cuz I met a monster.
I think he is nice. He saved me, but when I tried to see him, he was gone.
He doesn’t know, but I tagged him, so I can find and thank him.
