Con snorted. “Wish to hell you’d let me in on
that
little secret, man. You have no idea how much your hermit habits cramped my style. If I’d known, I could have helped.”
Lorie ignored him. “What I learned was that every Tom, Dick and Gertrude dreams of cursing people into inanimate objects, but no lone witch has been able to master it. There would have to be seven, minimum. But why, I wondered, would the seven Magians needed to compress a single life into a book or image all agree to do something so onerous? Why wouldn’t they strip away the witch’s power, as decreed by law? Or kill her, if she were that much of a threat? They would all have to agree that eternal suffering was a worthy punishment for the crime, and that many Magians rarely agree on anything, even if they’re family.”
She glanced up quickly, searching the small army of faces for judgment or hostility. She found only sympathy and confusion.
Sarah’s gaze clashed with Lorie’s again, trying to convey her desire to speak, and he seemed to understand. “Tucker, before Tyghe allows Sarah to speak, I need your oath that the conversation we’re having now stays in the family. Your triad is not here to represent Magian law. Nothing we say leaves this room.”
She’d forgotten they were protectors. Did Lorie expect her to confess? She refused to be a prisoner again. But no, he was asking his brother to keep her confidence. Why?
Tucker hesitated, and Con took a step toward him. “Your oath, Tucker. We would do the same for Callie. You know we would.”
The brother nodded. “Of course. You have our word.”
Lorie gestured toward Tyghe without turning around. “Sarah, you can speak now. We want to help you, but we need you to answer a few questions.”
She opened her mouth experimentally, licking her dry lips before she spoke. “I will answer whatever I can, Lorie.”
His smile made her heart pound. He took her breath away. His smile, combined with his touch was dangerously distracting. “Sarah Blackwood, the only one of your name, I need to know why. Why were you trapped in that spell? What had you been accused of?”
They truly didn’t know? And what did he mean, the only one of her name? “But you knew my name. I’m a Blackwood. Are there no records of what happened in the library?” She hesitated. She’d been grateful for their ignorance when she first arrived, but now she knew something was wrong. “What do you know of the Magian massacre in Salem?”
Harrison took a step forward and studied Sarah closely. “Magian massacre? I’ve been forced to study Magian history most of my life, and while there have been crimes of passion and the occasional duel, the only story of witches being killed in Salem was all based on a misunderstanding. One that, sadly, killed too many innocent humans. We hold an event there each year to honor them. But I’ve never read anything about a massacre.”
Sarah knew she should stop shaking her head, but she couldn’t. “That can’t be true. I’m not mad. I was there. It happened. How can there be no record when so many Magians were killed?”
Now Con was beside her as well, the two men touching her, comforting her. Lorie squeezed her knees. “It’s okay, Sarah. We’ll figure this out. I knew your name because it is in the book where I found you. In the title itself. An Ode To Sarah Blackwood. Most of it simply reads like a day in the life of Magian women in the late sixteen hundreds. There are recipes and handwritten lists, a few strange poems about the ancient war.” He paused. “Mixed in with all of that, there is a portal leading into—”
“Her prison,” Con interrupted tightly. “So you were cursed into that book because they thought you had something to do with the so-called slaughter none of us has ever heard about? Help us out, Sarah. Is that what you’re saying?”
Sarah sighed shakily. “That is what is true. He told them I’d let the killers into our sacred Triune Festival. That I was the reason they were dead. All of them. My family. My grandmother, who had come to gossip and commiserate with all the hopeful mothers. He said I had let them in to pay him back for rejecting me as his match.”
Lorie’s grip became a bruising one. “He?”
“Aaron Winston. He came from a well-connected family.” She tilted her head, remembering everything. “Thalia Fairbanks used to tell me that Aaron’s rude manners had to have been taught to him by his parents, if only to distract their elite crowd from his putrid stench. But
I
think they kept him around in spite of both, because he was clever when it came to spells.”
Harrison snorted, but a look from the tall, forbidding Jacob silenced her. Lorie drew her attention again. “Winston? The name doesn’t sound familiar. There is no history of that family in Massachusetts. Are you sure you’re remembering it correctly?”
She spoke slowly, to emphasize her words. “If you were put in that place to die each day for eternity, would you forget who it was who put you there? Would you
ever
forget?”
Tyghe ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I sure as hell wouldn’t, but all of this is news to me too. I’ve never heard of any of this. Maybe we need to call in some help. The masters of the library? The archivists?”
Lorie shook his head, adamant. “We won’t find the answers there. Sarah? You said you needed an heirloom from a Fairbanks, and to find out if the other families involved are still alive. Callie is the last living Fairbanks, but she’s only recently discovered her heritage. She’s received a few boxes, but perhaps if you told her what you were looking for…?”
She stared hard at Callie, searching for traces of her old confidante. “Callie. Is your given name Calliope?” When the blonde nodded, Sarah smiled. “I knew it must be. Thalia used to hate the naming tradition her great grandfather had started. She’d say that though there were nine muses, all of them had abysmal names.”
Callie laughed softly. “I think I would have liked her. I feel the same way.”
“The heirloom was something Thalia gave to me for protection. It was something I could use to prove Aaron’s dangerous attentions and determination to control me to the authorities. It proves he threatened me.” She couldn’t meet Lorie’s gaze. “It is a brooch with a muse carved into it. She would be holding a harp.”
She wanted it to reveal the truth, that she wasn’t insane. She had been falsely accused. To play it for the Winston descendants so the knew what vile stock they’d sprung from.
“Can I ask a question, Miss Blackwood? Why is your speech so, pardon the expression, normal?”
“Ric! Seriously?” Harrison dropped her chin to her chest and covered her eyes with her palm. Her glorious black hair spilled down her shoulders and it made Sarah conscious of her own unkempt tangles. Beauty definitely ran in this family. “I apologize for him. He isn’t housebroken yet.”
Sarah wrinkled her nose, considering. “You mean my speech? I honestly don’t know. When the landscapes and people started changing, maybe it happened then? I did begin to feel differently. Think differently. I didn’t realize that my manner of speaking had changed.”
“Wait, rewind. That seems important.” When Sarah looked at her questioningly, Callie explained, “I get these feelings. Harry calls it my spidey sense. Why did the landscape change? I’m still learning about spells, but if this was a loop curse, with the same thing happening over and over again, it seems like the most complicated one I’ve seen. Loops are static. They don’t alter. But yours did?”
“All the time,” Lorie and Sarah spoke softly together. She saw it in his eyes. He’d been affected by his time there. He understood.
“It wasn’t like that in the beginning,” Sarah continued. “It was only years later that I started to see new things here and there. At first, I believed it a sign that the spell was degraded, unweaving. But I was wrong. If anything, it was growing. A living spell that was harder to predict. One of the oddest changes did lead me to the second door. I couldn’t believe I’d missed—“
“Second door?” Now Harrison looked excited. Or anxious. It was difficult to tell. “Did you say there was a
second
door?”
She nodded. “Two doors, but I could only open the one. Wait.” Shock fired through her still frozen limbs. “There aren’t two doorways in the book?”
That possibility hadn’t occurred to her.
Harrison nodded, confirming her worst fears. “Only one. Now the inability to destroy the spell makes more sense. I have only
bound
the book, Sarah. It was all I could accomplish. It won’t break, no matter what I do to it, but I’ve managed to put it on pause for the time being. I need all the components to even have a chance to break its hold on you. That means there’s another. There has to be.”
“Fuck.” Con swore beside her, and Sarah could not help but agree. Not only was there another book out there somewhere, waiting to pull her back in—but now she knew her time here
was
only temporary. They hadn’t broken the spell.
No matter how powerful Harrison was, it had taken a room full of witches to cast her into that curse. She couldn’t keep it at bay all by herself.
Sarah had always known her time here would be short, but she’d wanted to leave this world fighting. To avenge those lost. And since her arrival she’d added something else to her list. She’d wanted to know what it was like, just once, to be a part of her triad. Something she’d never dared imagine before.
She couldn’t go back.
As her mind raced, Tucker chimed in, “Miss Blackwood, there has to be a reason why there is no record of the history you’re describing. If you name the others involved with this Aaron Winston, perhaps their families have kept a private record? Or have some evidence hidden away that might help us locate the second book.”
She closed her eyes, focusing on breathing. “Of course. But I’d like to be released first please. I wish not to be confined.”
Tyghe waved his hands and her arms lifted in a stretch, allowing the panicked feeling to subside. “Thank you. The names of the people in the room when I was punished are Aaron Winston and his brother Thaddeus. Alexandria, Elijah and James Gryffin. Also, Robert Abbott and that wretched woman who hated my grandmother, Hester Maris.”
The room fell silent and Sarah opened her eyes. “What is it?” She felt a nervous laugh bubbling in her throat. “Please tell me none of you are the descendents of Hester. Fate could not be that cruel.”
Lorie stood, pulling her into his arms as if he’d done it a million times. He smiled, but his eyes were full of regret. “No, sweet Sarah. We aren’t related to Hester.” He spoke over his shoulder without releasing her. “Tucker, you have your information. Callie? You and Tyghe will look through those boxes, scour the old Fairbanks homestead if you have to, but find that brooch for Sarah.”
A sound of surprise came from Harrison. “Look who stopped being shy. Okay, boss man, what do I do?”
Lorie wasn’t laughing. “You keep working on a way to break that spell when we find book number two.”
“And what are we doing?” Sarah sensed the undercurrents, but she wasn’t entirely sure what they meant. They obviously knew something they didn’t want her to discover, but what? The location of the people she’d threatened? Were they trying to protect them from her? Her suspicion should have sent her out of his arms, but she wasn’t moving.
She almost heard her grandmother’s voice in her head, asking if Sarah could blame them after what she’d revealed her plans. She couldn’t. And right now, in Lorie’s embrace, her treacherous body didn’t care.
Lorie shared a look with Con before answering. “We’re going on a treasure hunt, Sarah Blackwood. And you are my key.”
Magic was all around her, though not the kind that Magians usually understood. This was human magic. And it was astounding to behold.
Lorie and Con had decided against using traveling spells. Instead, they had indulged Sarah’s desire to see the modern era. They’d rented a motorized vehicle they called an SUV and taken her to lunch at a roadside diner filled with a fascinating mix of people and food, all of which she thoroughly enjoyed. Especially the desserts.
It was a whole new world. In more ways than she’d ever imagined. While they drove, they shared what they knew of the history she’d missed. The vastness of the small group of colonies which had become a powerful civilization that seemed to rival Rome itself. As impossible as it sounded, she couldn’t deny the proof before her eyes.
Everything was different. There was noise and music. Shouting and laughter. Life, colorful and astounding, bloomed all around her. Chaos—but a wonderful and welcome chaos.
The kind where not one single person she saw was screaming, “Death to the witch!”
It was only when they drove out of the city, leaving the glass and metal skyscrapers climbing high into the clouds, and headed into the countryside, that she began to recognize where she was. Home.
Her grandmother had always insisted that their neighbors, the Puritans, were good people at heart, though they took themselves too seriously. But then, so did the Magians. When she lived, Sarah had seen a dozen matches denied, despite their clear magical connection, for the sake of a name. A family name.
She had watched some go mad with the grief of finding, and losing, their heart’s desire. But even after she’d finished her debut, knowing she would have no family of her own—she saw the rules begin to change. Glimpses of a return to what they called the old ways. Ways the Magians of lesser houses had followed for ages. Honoring the magic, and the Magian, by allowing true triads to form regardless of station. A genuine communion brought lasting power into the family…and love.
To experience that connection was every girl’s dream. Even Sarah’s. Aaron Winston, on the other hand, had been her nightmare. He was just prominent enough to make her life difficult. To delay deliveries to her family home and cause the older women to whisper when she entered a room. If it weren’t for Thalia and her grandmother, Sarah would have never gone outside, never been part of the community—not if it meant having to listen to the vulgarity and endless threats that inevitably came with Aaron’s confrontations.