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The twin born of night, with the magic he had corrupted, converted others to his side, the hopeless, the hopeful, the wounded, the strong and the weak, all manner of Wiccan joined him. Some he convinced to give up themselves for their children’s sake, others he had forced, stripping them of their magic as he did the day, embedding it into to his chosen, the young, to grow and fight as he commanded. Few survived; stronger were they than all other Wiccan, many that perished crushed under the weight of the magic imposed upon them.
An image of Magdalena appeared immediately, and I recognized the cliffs, the space in which she was training, the same place we all had trained. The nine-point star on the ground that we’d all been inside.
But it was different.
It always felt like there was a pull when I stood inside the star. But for her, I watched as magic flowed into her.
The reason she’d been getting stronger and stronger.
Are you training with Uncle Axel without me? Simone had said to me weeks ago. Was this how she was training?
It’s not training, Wraith answered, forcing me to watch.
Magdalena collapsed in the middle of the star, and they stopped feeding her magic, taking her to her room. She looked fine, just sleeping. Even when she finally opened her eyes, she looked the same, happy, excited, sneaky as she held on to her shoes and tiptoed out the back of the house. The joy on her face as she cast one spell after another, making the trees tinkle and the leaves dance. She was fine until…she was not. And her legs wobbled, and she began to cough, and blood coming from her mouth and ears and eyes until…she collapsed, gasping for air.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. No. Help her, please,” I cried, but she gasped for air instead. I pushed the book as far away from me as I could. “Stop!”
It was a lie.
It was all a lie.
I felt sick. All of me so sick that the world was upside down. I ran from the room, unsure where I was going, not seeing a bathroom but a kitchen sink. I hunched over, both crying and hurling as everything came together in one conclusion.
My life was the lie.
I’d hugged, adored, and stood beside the man who killed my father, and there were times I even wished he was.
“Oh, God.” I was sobbing over the sink. I shook my head.
But it wouldn’t get out.
The truth wouldn’t get out.
And it kept making me think of all my circle.
Simone, Adelaide, Jericho, Faye, Tate, Tala, Fiona, Rue—my coven. Was all their magic stolen from other witches?
Breyer Allsbrook, his little sister…How deep did this go? Were there any real vampire attacks? Was it all a cover? How many witches had been murdered or tricked into sacrificing themselves?
Again, I bent over, but nothing came out except my gasp for air. Slowly, I sank onto my knees, but still, my mind raced.
The other elders had to know.
Who else?
My circle couldn’t have known, right? What would they do if they did know? This would break them. This truth would break all of us.
Gripping my hair, I fought back the aching.
But I had no words, just screams and sorrow in me. Even my vision went blank. So, I lay there in nothingness, wanting never to come out.
Witches protect witches from the monsters, Wraith’s voice trickled in.
“The monsters are us,” I whispered back.
You are a witch, Wraith’s replied.
“Leave me alone.”
