Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (35 page)

I tucked the covers around her, kissed her,
and then excused myself.

“We should talk,” Greer said.

He led the way down the stairs towards the
kitchen.

********************

“Martha told me many things about Lamont,”
Greer said. He was sitting at the table in his white cotton shirt
and dark breeches, and his hair was tousled and wavy from the
morning. He watched me as I made tea, and I felt rather
self-conscious and silly in my oversized sleeping gown and water
stained slippers.

“Anything that will be useful?”

Greer started slicing bread and buttering it,
“I have learned where he is now lodging and much more about his
type of magic. But I think we should wait until Becky is with us to
talk more about this.”

I sat down beside him and he passed a plate
of buttered bread in front of me.

“Martha spoke of you to me,” he said with a
tone of forced steadiness. “She believed that out of all the
witches she has met, you are the strongest in the Craft . . . that
it will be you who will destroy Lamont. She told me that you will
have every magical tool you will need when the time is right . . .”
he placed his hand on my arm, “But Aislin, there has to be another
way. I do not want you to do this,” Greer's voice quaked as he
spoke.

I thought of his words and sat in silence.
Martha was the most experienced of us, which was why Lamont had
moved to take her life. He needed her out of his way and, more
importantly, he needed to regain his strength from her magic.

“Martha knew all of our strengths and
weaknesses. She told me that I would have to be strong for Becky
and my mother . . . I think this is my fate.” My tone was
apologetic. I would never want to cause Greer unease, or make him
relive the terror of my death—but I knew that I would have to be
the one to stop Lamont. This burden was always mine to bear. There
was no other way.

Greer opened his mouth to speak but paused,
“Your mother is coming downstairs,” he said.

********************

Becky sat in the kitchen with the rest of us.
When she first walked in and saw Greer, she threw herself into his
arms and wept.

“Thank you,” she shuttered, “Thank you for
saving my mother from a horrible fate.”

Greer held her and let her cry. None of us
had any reason to believe that Becky had received a moment to
herself to grieve since she had awoken that morning.

“She came to me in a dream last night,” she
said, as she wiped her eyes and sat down at the table. “She said
goodbye to me and she came to Isaac as well.”

“What else did she say?” my mother asked
intently.

“That Aislin would need my help and that
Lamont wants our powers,” Becky nervously fiddled with the
handkerchief she held in her hands, “She also said that you are to
stay out of this Deidre . . .”

My mother's eyes squinted and her knuckles
turned white,” What?”

“I'm sorry Deidre.” Becky looked
uncomfortable and tried to deliver her mother's message as kindly
as she could, “She said that you hold too much distrust for Greer,
and that in the end, you could endanger all of us,” Becky cringed
as she waited for the response.

Greer and I sat quietly. I had known of my
mother's suspicions of him for a long time, but I thought they
would have subsided by now. Greer looked embarrassed and as
uncomfortable as Becky did.

“Martha is wrong,” my mother said
hastily.

We all just stared at her, knowing the
truth.

CHAPTER THRITY-THREE

Evening Dinner

My father sat at the head of the table, my
mother and I on either side of him. Greer was off finding food of
his own, which was not of particular importance. Since Becky
revealed my mother's feelings towards Greer, he had felt unwelcome
in our home, and it took much convincing on my part to get him to
step into my room. From that day forth, they had avoided each other
like the plague.

My father still believed that Greer was
permanently banished from my life, although the finding of two
teeth marks on Martha's body had shaken him. In actuality, he
believed that Greer was a thief and charlatan, just as Gillis had
suggested. He did not buy into the notion that Greer was a monster,
yet labeling my beloved to be a crafty imposter seemed to be a fair
enough explanation. It was preposterous, but my father relied
solely on logical reasoning and enjoyed a simplistic explanation to
this complex problem.

“The events that have unfolded themselves
this year have been horrible. Let us pray that in the coming year
we have put them all behind us,” said my father, as he raised his
glass.

My mother followed his lead and raised her
glass as well, but I did not. I was growing tired of playing these
games. Constantly appeasing my mother by pretending that things
were just going to will themselves into being better and that
Lamont would leave me alone. Of all the horrendous lies my mother
was trying to force me to agree with, she had tried to convince me
to accept that this was all Greer's fault and to forget about him.
I would never succumb to that notion. I did not have the patience
to pretend anymore, so I sat quietly and pushed the food around my
plate.

“There is big news in town now,” my father
said cheerfully, “The Governor has been so disturbed by the murder
of his son, that he has sent in a battalion to patrol the forest
and find Gre . . . ” he caught himself and then corrected his
harshness, “the beast.”

“Greer is
not
the beast,” I said
through gritted teeth.

“Aislin, not this again,” he said in
exasperation.

“He isn't. I have told you . . . ask mother
if you do not believe me!” I shouted at him, as I turned to her for
support.

She just stared down at her plate and did not
reply. I pushed my plate away from me and stormed from the
room.

********************

Upstairs in my bedchamber I went to be alone,
but the light that was coming from the forest shined through my
window so brightly that I was drawn to it. It was nearly ten
o'clock at night and yet, the forest was glowing with such
luminosity that if I did not know better, I would have believed it
was daytime.

Lanterns from the Governor's battalion of
soldiers were everywhere, blanketing the forest in an eerie glow.
Greer was out there and now he did not have the cover of darkness.
Worse still, he could no longer efficiently conceal himself from
his foes.

A spasm of fear gripped me and I felt my
stomach ache with it. I had seen Greer recover from a horrible
injury, an injury that most men would not have survived. Even so,
it had slowed him down. It did hurt him and that was only one
wound.
What if he was attacked by a group of soldiers? How could
he survive it?
I did not quite believe that he was as
invincible as his Order had told him he was.

I pressed my hand onto the window and watched
as a fog spread out across the pane, emanating outward from the
heat of my hand. It was still snowing. In fact, I do not believe it
had stopped snowing for a week's time. In the midst of the lights
and snow, I saw a little shadow making its way through our backyard
and to the door. It was Sneachta, coming home from a hunt of her
own. I often wondered if she and Greer hunted together and what
that must look like.

Within moments, I heard a little scratch at
my door from her small paw and I let her in. Her fur was covered in
snow and she jumped on the bed to wipe it off on my comforter.

“Sneachta that is so boorish!” I complained
as she slinked on her back and rolled across my pillows. At my
objection to her drying methods, she flicked her tail at me,
stretched herself out, and then proceeded to clean her paws while
thoroughly ignoring my presence.

I picked her up and moved her. She had been
laying on the nightgown that I had placed on my bed earlier that
day. It was now saturated in melted snow.

I held her face up to mine as I scolded her,
“You know that was very mean Sneachta, now my nightgown will need
to be dried and my bed is wet. You know better little faerie.”

In response, she licked my nose with her
little pink tongue and I could find no possible way to stay mad at
her. As I went to snuggle her, I saw that a scrap of rolled up
paper was attached to the ribbon on her neck. I uncurled it and
took it to the candlelight.

Aislin,

We need to talk, but with the soldiers
patrolling I have no means to get to you without stirring
suspicion. Please be ready, Greer will come and escort you to a
safe location.

Becky

I quickly took the note and set it aflame
with the candle. Then I gathered my things and sat in wait for
Greer.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Before Dawn

We sat on large barrels that were strewn
around the tavern's cellar. The room was cold and damp, and we
struggled to see in the darkness. The floor was dirt and all around
us were towering shelves filled with spirits and other tavern
supplies. Becky was waiting for us when we arrived.

A single candle was all that illuminated our
faces, making each of us appear ghostly in the flickering light. We
were talking in hushed voices. Greer believed that this was a safe
location for the time being, but we still exercised caution at
every turn.

“Lamont has come to our home now. He searched
all the slave quarters,” Becky whispered.

“What was he looking for?” I asked. I leaned
in close to hear Becky's reply.

“We do not know. He questioned Pete about me
and then he questioned all the other men as well. He had the
Minister and a few other men search the women for marks on their
skin… and then he left.”

I looked at Greer, his skin was turning pale
again and I knew that with the soldiers' presence, he was not
getting enough to eat.

“Why would he be searching them for marks?” I
asked.

“It is an old custom of witch hunters,” Greer
sighed. “It is to search for the
devil’s mark
. It’s complete
nonsense of course, but it is an easy way to accuse a person of
sorcery.”

“But Lamont can sense magic . . . he does not
need to look for a mark in order to know a witch,” I said in
bewilderment.

“He was searching for something,” Becky
explained. “I saw it. His eyes were darting all over the place.
Perhaps he was looking for you,” she shrugged.

“I need to tell you both what Martha relayed
to me before she passed,” Greer said in his soft voice.

Becky and I ceased our conversation and
focused on Greer.

“She told me that the Minister has housed
Lamont in the woods, in a shed behind the Leeds' home. She told me
that he spends most of the day with the Minister and the Governor.
It was Lamont who suggested moving the battalion into
Burlington.”

Becky and I looked at each other in
amazement, “Wouldn't that stop him from searching for us?” I
asked.

“No. He has frightened the leaders of this
town into believing that he alone can rid Burlington of the
monster. If he has bewitched them or simply used the persuasion of
fear, I do not know. Yet, the truth remains that Lamont has their
full support and he now has an army at his disposal.” He dragged
his fingers through his hair and looked up at the low ceiling for a
moment. “There is more…Martha told me something which I had not
foreseen.”

I watched tension building in his demeanor as
he tried to convey this new piece of information. He was lost in
his own thoughts. His nervousness was so contagious that Becky and
I held our breath.

“What is it Greer?” I could not wait any
longer.

He snapped out of his thoughts and took a
shallow breath, “Martha told me that Lamont and the Puca are one
being…he is a shape shifter.”

I shook my head, “That cannot be . . . I saw
him at Rebecca's home and at the port the first day . . .”

Greer cut me off, “He cast a spell that
caused the pain in your body and the paralysis. It was the same one
he used on your mother and Martha at the Ball. Think back to your
encounters with the Puca or to your vision of Rebecca and her
sisters . . . did you ever see both the Puca and Lamont?” he
asked.

Thinking of Rebecca's final moments was the
last thing that my memory wanted to recall, but I tried my hardest
to endure the images that passed through my mind. I saw the fire go
out, the bed depress . . . the children. My mind skipped ahead, “I
saw Lamont standing in the woods looking up at their window—I never
saw the Puca,” I finally declared as a chill ran down my spine.

“What else can he turn himself into?” Becky
asked nervously.

We looked at Greer for answers, “I don’t
know…”

“He could be anything!” Becky’s voice rose
with exasperation. “He could be posing as one of us.”

We all looked at each other suspiciously.

“Where did our parents meet?” Becky demanded
of me.

“In the Caribbean . . . in a slave holding,”
I replied.

Greer and I looked at each other. I didn’t
need verification to know it was him, and he felt equally as sure
of me. Becky still looked nervous.

“Where did we first meet?” Greer asked me
with a little smile.

“Which time?” I replied.

“Alright, I am convinced,” Becky sighed.

“On a bright note, at least we know that
Lamont is our only adversary,” I breathed. “It means we only have
to deal with one enemy… not two like we originally thought.”

“Becky raised an eyebrow, “Aislin, do you
remember what he did to that bear? Even if he is only one being…he
is still deadly.” She reached down and touched her calf. The scar
was still etched across her skin from her encounter with the
monster.