Read The Return of the Witch Online
Authors: Paula Brackston
The Return of the Witch (44 page)
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It is now five days since the solar eclipse. Five days since I dispatched Gideon from our lives once and for all. Five days since Tegan was freed. Five days since Erasmus made his convoluted proposal. So much has happened in such a short time. As I sit here at the desk in the drawing room, the sunshine streaming through the tall window behind me, I am filled with an unfamiliar sense of peace and contentment. Nipper is seated, cross-legged, on the rug at Erasmus's feet, having the delights of far-flung exploration explained to him. Erasmus has fetched a globe and placed it beside them, so that the boy can spin the thing again and again, point to a place upon it, and listen agog as Erasmus tells him wild tales about the location he has chosen. The pair have already become so close. It warms my heart to see two people who have of necessity spent solitary lives now reveling in each other's affection. Here is the father the boy never knew. Here is the child the man thought he would never raise. We are a curious little family, but strangely suited. We have, each of us, known loneliness and been forced to turn it into independence, further distancing ourselves from those who might care for us. We have each fallen victim to those who prey on the unprotected, and emerged the stronger for it. But we need be solitary no longer.
It was, naturally, painful saying farewell to Tegan. For so long my main goal had been to be reunited with her; it was a wrench to accept that I had to let her go on without me, and that my place is here. At first I thought I could not do it. I thought I did not have the right to send her off alone. I had left her once before and it had taken her a long time to forgive me. How could I abandon her now, simply to satisfy my own desires? But I had not considered properly how changed she was. Her transformation was more than merely the passing of years, and more even than the wondrous results of all the magic she had acquired and absorbed. She was a strong woman now, able to be alone without being lonely, able to accept the needs of others without seeing them as a rejection of herself. She has much to do, and she does not require my presence to achieve what lies ahead of her. Indeed, I would only hold her back. She was at pains to make me see that, and to convince me that my happiness lay with Erasmus and Nipper, and that she wanted more than anything for me to be happy. She told me I had earned that happiness. Had I? Does anyone? Are happiness, contentment, fulfillment things one can gain through deserving deeds or effort? I think not. I think they are gifts, and when we receive them we are meant to embrace them gratefully, wholly, joyfully, for we may not be offered them a second time.
As I sit here and write I am reminded of the
Book of Shadows
I bequeathed Tegan. It became hers, as it should, and now I have a new volume in which to record my life, my spells, my thoughts, my healing recipes ⦠everything that is part of being a witch. Erasmus must have spent many hours making this exquisite book for me. He told me he started it the day we arrived in London. It seems a part of him was already setting in motion his plan to make me his wife. When he presented it to me I was overwhelmed and could not stop myself from sobbing. He was alarmed at the sight of my tears, dabbing at them with his red-spotted handkerchief. I had to work to convince him that they were tears of delight. It is obvious that the book was made with such care and attention to detail, using the very best paper, so that every time I write in it I am reminded of the love that went into making it. I will record our daily lives within its covers, setting down Nipper's journey from boy to man, recounting Erasmus's Time Stepping, committing to paper what it means to be a wife, a mother, a witch, here and now, or anywhere and anywhen else that Erasmus's work might take us. All will be bound neat and safe within this new
Book of Shadows.
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There is a warm summer breeze blowing, and from up here on the small hill behind Matravers I can see the willows that give the cottage its name swaying gracefully. I find I want to stop, to lean on my staff and take a moment to look. The garden is at its prettiest this time of year, even though it has been left to run a bit wild with no one here to see to it. Well, a bit of wildness won't hurt. Let the grass of the lawn grow tall for once. Let the mice and rabbits and squirrels have the best of the veg from the kitchen garden, and the birds can feast on the fruit that I won't be here to gather. It will all wait for me. The house is going nowhere. And one day, when I come back, I will light the Aga stove and put the kettle on to boil and think of Elizabeth, and then I will be home for keeps.
It's strange to think that all I wanted to do was return to Willow Cottage, and now that I'm here I can't stay. It is my home. It is the place I will one day settle down in, but not yet. I'm not quite ready for that. There are places I need to see, things I need to experience, people I need to meet, if I'm going to stand a chance of working out who I am now. And what it means to be Tegan Hedfan, Balik Kiis, Tegan the Blessed. I'm pretty sure Taklit was wrong about me ever being the Greatest Witch Living, but there's something in me driving me to make sure I am the best that I can be. And I think I can do that now. Now that Gideon is gone. Now that Elizabeth is happy.
“And I've got you, haven't I, Aloysius?” He's beginning to show his age a little. The white fur is not as thick as it was, and he's lost a few whiskers, but he's up for a bit of traveling still, and seems happy enough to ride on my shoulder some more.
I turn and look at the slender figure standing beside me. She's eating properly at last, and beginning to find her voice, but she needs time. I think a bit of somewhere sunny might do her good.
“You ready for this, Florencia?” I ask, and she nods a little nervously. “Come on, then. Time to go,” I tell her. We pick up our backpacks and swing them over our shoulders. I take one last look at home and then I plant my staff firmly and push off for the first stride of many to come. And I sense the slight sadness at leaving as it is quickly replaced by the thrill of heading off into an unknown future.
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My thanks again to my tireless editor, Peter Wolverton, and to Emma Stein, for their patience, diligence and hard work. I am grateful to all the team at Thomas Dunne and St. Martin's Press for the energy and care they put into my books. There are so many people involved in getting a story from the writer's feverish mind into the hands of the book lovers, and I could not do without a single one of them. I like to think there is one crucial person tasked with fueling all that necessary activity by providing plentiful piping hot coffee of exceptional quality. Or possibly tea!
I would also like to thank my readers. It was their enthusiasm for
The Witch's Daughter
that led me to write a sequel. I have them to thank for the time I have enjoyed revisiting characters that have become my friends.
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PAULA BRACKSTON
is the
New York Times
bestselling author of
The Witch's Daughter
,
The Winter Witch
.
The Midnight Witch,
and
The Silver Witch
. She has a master's degree in creative writing from Lancaster University in the UK. She lives in Wales with her family. Visit her online at
www.paulabrackston.com
. Or sign up for email updates
here
.
    
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ALSO BY
PAULA BRACKSTON
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CONTENTS
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin's Press.
THE RETURN OF THE WITCH.
Copyright © 2016 by Paula Brackston. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
Cover design by Elsie Lyons
Cover photograph © Stephen Carroll / Trevillion Images
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Brackston, Paula, author.