There were no birds to be found in the trees or squirrels climbing up the trunks as the woman took the bends slowly. We were going up a slow, steady incline, but even looking behind me, I couldn’t see any movement in the treetops.
I returned my gaze to my window, studying the mist as it shifted and moved. A black streak darted through it, appearing for only a moment before it was gone again.
“Did you see that?” I asked, turning a shocked stare back to Thorne once again.
“Creatures far worse than witches call these woods home. You’d do well to remember that should you get thoughts of running off,” he answered, and I tried not to think of the massive black thing or the glimpse of glowing eyes.
What manner of beast was that large?
The slope of the hill grew sharper, creating a steady, winding bend that seemed to go on and on forever. It reminded me of the on-ramp for the interstate when Mom and I had taken Ash to the aquarium in New York. A continuous circle that made my stomach twist with the curve. I had no doubt that if it hadn’t been for the belt strapped across my chest, I would have slid toward Thorne unwillingly.
As we climbed and came to the top of what I’d assumed to be a hill, I realized it was, in fact, a cliff. The school jutted up out of the cliff side, arches and spires reaching for the sky. It was built in light gray stone, with arched windows and doors covering the face of the building. The window atop the main doors was enormous, half the height of the school in its entirety, with detailed windowpanes that laid out Hecate’s maze.
My skin throbbed at the visual symbol of the Goddess who’d created us all. The first witch who’d led to all of our creation, forming an alliance with the devil and leading to the witches serving him.
She’d been the first necromancer, the first to summon the other clans of the Coven for each to be bestowed with magic. The condition of her being the first witch had meant that she and her descendants would be the only ones to have power over the dead, reserving that ability for herself.
Reserving it for me.
The car came to a stop in front of the main entrance, and I didn’t hesitate to shove open my door and stand before the school. The steps leading up to the doors were six in number. Six steps, six doors, and six windows surrounding them. I turned to look to the other side of the car as the Vessels stepped out, my eyes landing on the memorial stone overlooking the sea. I made my way to it, sidestepping Thorne as he reached for me.
It was a simple granite slab, with the names of the dead carved into it. “They’re the witches who were lost in the massacre,” the woman answered, her voice solemn. “They say their ghosts still haunt the school.”
I forced myself not to let any emotion show when I found my aunt’s name.
Loralei Hecate.
“It’s a shame there aren’t more names here,” I said, twisting my lips into a scowl. It was, in a sense, a horror that the Vessels could rarely be killed alongside the witches, and that those who had corrupted the Coven hadn’t been the ones to die.
My hatred ran deep, but it didn’t run quite that deep.
The woman blinked at me as I turned my back on the memorial, giving no indication that I knew any of the names found there. None could suspect I was aware of any of the events that transpired in more than a vague sense, or that I had any personal connection to them.
My mother hadn’t been related to Loralei, and my father, well…
He wasn’t my father as far as the Coven knew.
The Hecate line had died with my aunt, and for now, that was how it needed to stay.
10
WILLOW
Thorne appeared at my side, lacing his arm through mine as I made my way to the doors.
“Will someone go and fetch my things from my mother’s house?” I asked, trying to pull my arm free from him.
“Is there anything in particular you require?” he asked, and I felt his gaze on the side of my face. I didn’t bother to look at him as I waved my free hand toward the closed doors.
They creaked open slowly, each of the six doors parting to give us our choice of entrance. It might have been an unnecessary show of magic, but it served as a reminder for me.
Stone. Earth. Nature.
Those were my elements. Those were the things I had an affinity for. The souls trapped within the Vessels were none of my concern as far as anyone else knew.
Neither was the cemetery that I could feel pulsing with the bones of the dead at the edge of the tree line. If I followed that thread, followed that instinct, it would feel as if I plunged myself underwater. As if touching it would require the ability to breathe in the depths of the ocean, and I had always been far better suited to the land beneath my feet.