AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘You! What are you doing here?’
John shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and looked at Romy for help.
‘Oh yes,’ Emrick said lightly. ‘We forgot to mention that we have a visitor.’
‘You forgot to mention…’ Aveta’s eyes narrowed. ‘Does Iliana know about this?’
‘She does, and it was as much of a shock to her as it was to the rest of us,’ Sirius said. He glanced at Romy and his expression softened. ‘But he’s here now, and we’re dealing with it.’
‘Really?’ Aveta’s tone was icy. ‘And perhaps you’d care to explain how you’re doing that?’
‘With the help of a couple of Guardians,’ Emrick said firmly.
Aveta’s stance changed. ‘The Guardians are aware of this?’
‘They most certainly are. They’re discussing the situation as we speak. It’s all under control, Aveta. No need for the High Council to worry. You’ve got enough to think about, don’t you agree?’
‘Well…’ Aveta sighed. ‘I suppose if the Guardians are involved… You’re right, of course. We do have other things to deal with, not least the funeral tomorrow, and then waiting for the Guardians to elect a new leader of the High Council, while trying to quell the rebellion in the ranks. He’s no threat?’
‘None whatsoever,’ Emrick promised her. ‘He has no magic, remember? Plus he doesn’t even know who he was, so there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Very well.’ She shook her head. ‘Honestly, it’s one thing after another these days. Anyway, I’d better get off to St Ives and pacify the Ambroses, who are still miffed that the funeral’s going to be here. Eleven o’clock. I trust everything will be ready?’
‘Everything will be ready,’ Emrick confirmed.
She nodded and left, muttering something about ingratitude and thankless tasks.
‘Well,’ Ewella said, looking round at us all. ‘It seems we have another busy day ahead of us. A big day tomorrow.’
The funeral of the leader of the High Council of Witches on a magical island in the sea off Cornwall, no less. What the hell had my life become?
Chapter 20
Lowen
The following day Peloryon House played host to dozens of people. John was safely tucked out of the way in his bedroom, as it was clear that today wasn’t the day to announce the return of Blaise St Clair.
All the family from Castle Clair had returned, minus Aither, Seren, and Astra. Mrs Greenwood was staying at home to babysit them all, as she’d decided she wasn’t up to coming face to face with her estranged daughter. Too much water, it seemed, had passed under that particular bridge.
The High Council members gathered in the study to privately greet the O’Briens—or at least, some of them. Orlagh, Ailill, Aidan, and Aisling were present, although judging by Aisling’s face she’d rather be anywhere else. Obviously the fact that her brother had married a witch hadn’t softened her dislike for witches in general, which was tough for her, because apart from the St Clairs, the living room was now crowded with various high-ranking witches from across the country. Most of those witches naively believed that the O’Briens were also witches, albeit ones of such great stature that no one was allowed to touch them.
The Ambroses arrived just as we were on the point of wondering if they weren’t going to bother. Titania Ambrose was dressed head to toe in black, with a heavy, black veil covering her face.
Star muttered something about it being an improvement, while Sky whispered to us that it was probably to hide her shame when she saw Benedict, though Star was quite certain that Titania didn’t know what shame was. Benedict said nothing, and although he greeted both Elvira and Easton with hugs, he pointedly didn’t even look in his so-called mother’s direction.
We all felt huge compassion for Elvira and Easton. Like Aurora they were clearly devastated. The witch community might have lost its leader, and the wider magical community a reassuring and imposing presence, but when it came right down to it, those three had lost their dad. At that moment everything else seemed to pale into insignificance.
We left Peloryon House a little behind schedule, but there was no sense of urgency among us. I think we were all too sad for that, and it seemed the sky was in mourning for the leader of the High Council of Witches, too. It hung low, swollen with heavy, grey clouds for most of the morning, and as the long procession snaked its way along the island track towards the chapel, the rain began to fall.
No one made any attempt to protect themselves from getting wet. Somehow it seemed fitting. The mood was as mournful as the weather, and we all entered the chapel with hearts as heavy as the pewter skies.
The island had decorated the chapel beautifully. Its walls gleamed white, the scent of incense hung in the air, and fresh, white flowers adorned the long table that stood beneath the triple stained-glass window, which depicted the moments the three Great Guardians, me included, received Excalibur, and which took up most of the front wall.
Another long table, which faced the window, was bare but for a white cloth, and it was here that Bob, Kendrew, Amlodd, and Easton gently set down the coffin.
Easton was clearly upset but was doing his best to be brave. White-faced and trembling, he tilted his chin and blinked his eyes a few times, and I saw his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he fought to control his emotions. He gently patted the coffin then joined his mother, Aurora, and Elvira on the front bench.
Amlodd and Kendrew bowed briefly to the coffin and returned to their seats, grim-faced, their eyes bleak.
