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Chapter 18
Ayla
Stepping into the building after the crones of my coven was like stepping seven years back in time, putting me back into a position I’d left long ago.
Not much seemed to have changed, if I was perfectly honest, except for the fact that so many of my aunties, mothers, and sisters were missing.
Was that really all because of me? I supposed there was no one else that could be blamed, but it hurt that I’d harmed the people who'd protected me for so long. Had I unintentionally caused the end of the people I cared for? If that was the case, what would happen to Kai? He wanted us to live an entire life together. How could I justify that if it meant only loss? Only pain?
That thought churned within my gut as Zara, Willa, and Tabit went through the ritualistic words that always pre-empted a magic swap: laying out what would happen to me, what would happen to them, and how the ancient lines of our magic would merge into something greater than when we were apart. I knew the words by heart, yet there was a strange, foreign quality to them—one I couldn’t quite name or put my finger on.
Maybe it was because I was more accepting of my wolf parts now, or maybe because I'd spent far too much time away from them. It wasn’t like I could work it out in the moment. Instead, I focused on the herbal tea Zara gave me, letting the bitter scent of it pull me even deeper into nostalgia.
I reached out, fully intending to drink it, but I noticed just how hard Tabit was staring at me. She didn’t exactly have the gentlest countenance on her best days, but there was definitely something harder and keener in her gaze. Perhaps it was paranoid of me, but I decided not to drink the tea, instead just letting it steam in front of me. It wasn’t like it was absolutely vital for the ceremony, anyway. It was just meant to help relax and move things along, but I’d always been rather adept at magic swapping. It got me out of my own skin and out of my head, letting me feel much more connected than usual.
I loved my family, I did, and I knew that I could trust the witches and yet…yet I couldn’t help remembering that while Zara and others had been incredibly nice and welcoming to me, some coven members always treated me more like a creature than a child. They’d never been outright cruel to me, but they’d trained and tested me more harshly than any of the other young witches, saying I needed to be kept on my toes. It made for quite the strange mix of doting and threatening treatment, and while I'd accepted that as a part of life when I was younger, now I knew it wasn’t quite right.
Perhaps the biggest crux of all was that pretty much all those who'd been kind to me had been wiped out by my curse, while those who'd held me at an arm’s length or were outright cruel were the ones who'd been spared. It didn’t exactly set me up for much success with our mission. At least Willa and Ryu seemed genuinely happy to see me back, though I supposed one could never be too sure with my coven. We were a secretive bunch, even among ourselves.
After the last person was seated at the table, and all the traditional words uttered, Zara spoke anew. “Is everyone ready?”
“Aye,” came the chorus all around. We needed unanimous agreement in order to actually start the ritual, and I was relieved that even surly Tabit didn’t decide to throw a spanner in the works by disagreeing and having us start all over again.
Joining hands, I opened myself up in a way I hadn’t in a long time, diving headfirst into a deluge of colors and memory.
They all spun around me, a cataclysmic vortex I had no control over. Yet, despite the chaos, I knew I was safe, knew I'd be guided wherever the magic saw fit to lead me. In kind, I'd no control over what the coven saw. My mind would be laid bare to them like a book with only the most intimate moments tucked behind a thin curtain of privacy.
Suddenly, I was spat out into the first memory. It passed in less than a flash, yet my mind was fully interpreting it, putting the pieces together in a way only a magic swap could.
Amone, a younger crone who'd spent many years trying to teach me to carry a tune, searching for me the day after I fled. She was nearly on my trail, but the ground suddenly collapsed beneath her, killing her instantly. While I was glad she hadn’t suffered, guilt stabbed at me, letting me know that it wasmyfault she was dead, and maybe she'd still be alive if I'd left a little sooner.
But as soon as my brain concluded that awful news, it rushed right away to a new scene.
Britta, an older crone, who'd taught me math and made the most incredible teas. She’d taken her usual sleeping aid and laiddown, only for the hearth in her kitchen to relight, spilling out across the ground and setting the room ablaze. There were far too many protective wards for the house to go up—that was my coven’s way, after all—but it did manage to reach her herb stores, and the resulting thick, aromatic smoke suffocated her in her sleep.
That was my fault, too, the curse burning through her the same as the herbs.
Much like the first, as soon as that vision ended, I was onto another. But this one showed a witch trying to follow after me, only to disappear entirely, either snatched away or straight up dropping through the face of the earth. I couldn’t say what happened there, but I did know it was just as much my fault as the rest of the incidents.
I wished that was it, that I'd be spared any more horrific, guilt-inducing scenes. But no, I was whisked away to the witches meeting in the gardens, discussing whether or not to keep looking for me. Tabit and Ryu were staunchly against it, saying I’d cost them enough. Zara turned the blame inward, saying they should have taken the curse more seriously, and their pride was their own downfall. Willa just kept stating that I was a little girl, a victim caught up in a conflict she didn’t understand.
It was both encouraging and heartbreaking to hear how the rest of my coven dealt with me running away. I'd like to say I was surprised by the negative opinions, but I wasn’t. At least anyone who was displeased with my presence made that pretty clear to me even when I was a child.
It wasn’t all bad, though. There were other things mixed in. Births, gardens overflowing, especially prolific rose bushes and blooms, but so much sadness. So much pain, most of it caused by me.
When we finally broke our circle, hands dropping to our sides, I felt immensely responsible. I hardly dared to even look at my aunties.
“I’m truly, deeply sorry for all the harm I’ve caused,” I said, tentative at first, but slowly steeling myself against the surging emotions within me. “I hope you know that even if it was unintentional, and I didn’t understand the full effects of the curse, I take full responsibility for it now.”
Like much of what happened with the coven, there was a breadth of responses. Willa was crying quietly, no doubt upset after being reminded of the sudden demise of two of her sisters, while Zara seemed relatively unaffected.
But strangely enough, it was Tabit who spoke first.
“If you truly take responsibility for what you’ve wrought upon us, why have you returned? Why did you reveal our most sacred home to these outsiders?”
She didn’t hide her disgust at that last word. I did my best to keep a measured response.
“I am here to ask a favor of you. It is one I know I don’t deserve to ask, considering all I’ve done for you and how I ran away, but we have no choice.”
