A Witch's Trial (Witch's Path Series: Book 3) (20 page)

"Go for it." I held out my hand.
 

Mom and Dad stepped closer to Liam's bed. He cocked an eyebrow at their backsides and scooted closer to the wall.

The fey took my hand in his, twisting and turning it as his fingers traced the ivy. "I am Varro."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Michelle."
 

For all that Varro's attention seemed to be directed at the plant life clinging to me, I had a feeling that wasn't his primary focus. Varro let go of my hand, and I tucked it back under the blanket. He moved back to the door, and Mom perched on the bed next to me, resting a hand on my shoulder. She was trying to be comforting, but I was confused. My parents hadn't asked about the witches, Elron was acting oddly, and then there was Varro.
 

"Well?" Dad prompted.

"Elron is correct, and the ivy will not harm her," Varro answered.
 

"How long is it going to stay on my hand?"

Varro shrugged.
 

"I do not know." Elron shook his head. "Now that we have established that the ivy will not hurt Michelle, I would like to know when you learned modern English."

There was a long pause, and I couldn't decide if everyone thought Elron was unbearably rude for asking that question or if they were reflecting on the changes in Varro's language. Since this was my first conversation with him, I relaxed into the pillows and watched.

Dad cleared his throat. "That would be my doing."

"Ye can't have all the credit. I was in on it too," Mander said from the foot of my bed where he stood next to Landa.
 

"Yes, it was a joint effort. Mander and Varro were speaking in old English when I heard Mander throw in a few modern words that do not have an equivalent. I offered to do a language spell, and both of them agreed. It was only possible because Mander is fluent in both languages." Dad shrugged.
 

That was a spell I needed to learn. There were a few spells that accelerated the process of learning a language, but this was the first one I'd heard of that would transfer the knowledge from one individual to another. I doubted most people could use the language as readily as Varro was doing, but from the sound of things, he'd had a basic understanding of early modern English, which would make it easier for him to use current vernacular.

"And I thank you." Varro dipped his head in Dad's direction.
 

Dad blushed. "It was nothing."

"Ah, well, that will make things easier," Elron muttered.
 

I ignored his cryptic remark. He'd explain it to me later. Yawning, I debated if I could get in a nap before we had to talk about the disasters that had plagued today. Gremory's threats drifted through my mind, and I knew the strange way the gremlins had spoken would make its way into my dreams. Talk first and then risk creepy dreams. "We need to talk about this morning."
 

"Do you feel well enough to move to the parlor?" Mom asked.
 

"What do you think, Liam, are you up for a change in scenery?" I asked. He needed to hear this too since Gremory had used his pack and might make another play for them.
 

"Yes, but I'll need help walking," Liam said.

"Let's move this party to the parlor." I tossed the blanket to the side, scooted to the edge, and was working up the energy to sit up when Elron plucked me off the bed.
 

"You are in no condition to be walking." He held me against his chest, and I relaxed as his warmth seeped into my side.

"Thank you," I said, resting my head against his shoulder.

He followed my parents out of the room. Landa slipped around us as two teapots floated out of the parlor and followed her to the kitchen. Behind us Liam swayed, leaning heavily on Baden. Next time I saw that witch, I was going to make her pay for hurting him. It was one thing for her to attack me—I was the wayward witch they were bringing back into the fold—but going after my friends was a different matter entirely.

It wasn't long ago that I would've backed away from a fight, determined to find a different way to solve my problems, but the past month had changed me. Some people, like Adder, Gremory, and the clans, only understood force. It wasn't a matter of explaining the laws or giving them a chance to mend their ways. Given the opportunity, they would take what they wanted, and it was just too bad for whoever got in their way.
 

Maybe this was a lesson everyone else had learned long ago, but growing up, I never had a reason to think I would be the person holding the line, keeping innocents safe from bad people who did bad things. When I set up my business, it had been with the intention of wrangling rogue magical items, but before I knew it, I was looking at a sorceress.
 

Looking back, there were plenty of moments where I could've made different choices, told the police that something was outside the scope of our contract or my abilities. But at each of those crossroads, I'd stepped up to the plate and done my best because I liked challenges. Then it wasn't a challenge, but a need, a burning desire to protect and defend. Those children had changed the last reluctant parts of me into a person who was willing to be in harm's way if it kept one more child alive. Gremory had struck at our core, and it was my turn to strike back.

Elron set me on the love seat before taking the chair next to me. Mom hurried to cover me with blankets, fussing over how each one was arranged. Baden lowered Liam to the sofa, and Mom turned her attention to him. She checked his fingers and toes, set a warming spell on two blankets, and tucked them around him.
 

 
Dad gave Elron a hard look as he and Mom took the seats near my feet. The rest of the group had each found a spot, with Varro sticking close to Julius, Baden off to the side, and Mander in a wingback chair. The two teapots floated in and lowered themselves to the tea service.
 

Landa followed them, holding a cup of tea. She handed it to me and patted my arm. Thank goodness she hadn't tried to float it to me; stiff and achy arms wouldn't make catching a floating cup any easier. Landa refilled everyone else's drinks, and for a few minutes teacups and softly spoken requests and filled the air.

Landa sat back, took a sip of her brew, and said, "I don't know where to begin. Should we get the story of Elron's guest or Michelle's exciting day?"

Rather than answer, I took a sip of my tea, enjoying the warmth and soft favor of jasmine. Elron didn't say a word, and I gave him the now-you-keep-quiet look.
 

"I guess I should start," I said to draw attention away from him. If history was any indication, the story behind Varro related to Sylvia, and perhaps to the demon. There were plenty of reasons Elron wouldn't be eager to bring up those topics.
 

"Remember, we are in problem-solving mode." I looked at my parents. "All of these events have already happened, so there's no point in rehashing them." Most of the room nodded, and I launched into my explanation of the morning's adventure. For the most part, I kept to the truth. The diary was completely eliminated and rephrased as a meeting with Detective Wells, but that was the only major change.
 

For once, I was able to finish a story without any interruptions. Maybe being attacked by witches had upped the level of what was unbelievable and questionworthy. Even though they didn't break into my story, my parents shot me enough upset, worried, and frustrated looks that I knew this topic was far from over in their minds. We would be revisiting it once we were alone.
 

"Julius, Horst specifically requested that I inform you of these events. Any questions before I move to explaining the incident with the witches?" I asked.
 

Julius didn't say anything, but Baden jumped at the opportunity. "How do you know a demon is behind this? Sure, there are stories about them, but I don't know anyone who's actually seen a demon."

Varro stiffened. "Demons are as real as you or I, and it would not be out of character for them to gather large groups of gremlins around themselves."

Elron tensed, his eyes fixed on Varro's hands. I gave Varro a closer look. He was unarmed, though I'd never met a fey who needed a weapon to kill someone, and his left hand was in a loose fist. Given what I'd seen Elron do, it wouldn't surprise me to see a knife appear in Varro's hand. Baden nodded and clamped his jaw shut. I wouldn't have argued with Varro either—he had an I-have-seen-these-things air about him.

Julius filled the silence before it could become oppressive. "This fixation Gremory has with you is perturbing. You mentioned having disrupted parts of his plan, but this appears to be personal in nature. While it's logical for him to apply pressure by attacking the people you hold dear, it doesn't represent the actions of an individual trying to pass unnoticed."

Dad nodded. "Striking at us does make sense from that direction, but I question how Gremory is gaining his information. I've only recently become involved in Michelle's life, making any reference that includes me somewhat suspect. We haven't been out in public together, and only a few individuals know of our connection."

"You weren't mentioned by name. The gremlins said 'your family'—it could have been misdirection," I answered.
 

"Are you sure the gremlins are dead?" Mom asked.

"Ask Julius. I didn't do that trick."
 

"They are truly stone. I don't know of anyone who has managed to reverse the effects of that magic," Julius said.
 

"Let's hear about the witches. I only have so much attention left, and that won't be a short story," Liam requested.

"Is everyone okay with moving on?" I asked.
 

"Yes. It will take time for us to contemplate the implications of the gremlin's attack, and we can discuss it again at a later point," Elron said.
 

I nodded. "Then on to the witches. Mom, Dad, I'm sorry I didn't mention some of this before. I thought I knew what you would say, and I didn't want to bring it up. In retrospect, I should've spoken to you." They nodded and I jumped into the meat of the explanation, starting with the letters and ending with the scuffle that had turned Liam into an ice sculpture. Before long, Mom had a white-knuckled grip on Dad's hand, and his frown was etching deep lines around his mouth.
 

"I hope you understand our concerns better now. This is a very real example of why we wanted you to go unnoticed. This is still a manageable situation, but you must be careful. That was a near thing, and without the generosity of the forest, the outcome could have been less than pleasant." Dad frowned at me.
 

"I know and I'm sorry, but I really thought the letters and voice bubbles would be the extent of their actions. How was I supposed to know that they would send a group to kidnap me?" Sure, Cage had warned me that they could be overbearing and invasive, but none of his cautionary tales had included a felony offense.

My attention stayed on Mom; she had spots of color growing on her cheeks, and if past experience told me anything, she would be erupting shortly.

"Child, today you proved what a valuable asset you would be for a clan. Those were skilled witches, and due to their lack of memory, the story of your abilities is likely to grow. This has only increased your value in their eyes," Landa added.

Nodding, I tried to figure out what to say to reduce tension in the room. Mom shifted forward in her seat, and I knew I was in for it.

"Michelle, we told you to tell us if you had communication from a clan just to help prevent situations like this. You need to tell us these things. The Wapiti's involvement changes everything." Mom's voice had risen an octave by the end.

"Nancy, take a few deep breaths," Dad said, running his fingers up and down her arm.

"How can you tell me to calm down? This is what we were trying to avoid."

"And we knew some time ago that avoiding the Wapiti wouldn't work much longer."

"What? Were the Wapiti your clan?"

Mom nodded, and color slowly returned to her cheeks. Dad was frowning as he rubbed her arm.
 

"You were right. They're mean, and it was better when they didn't know I existed." Sometimes parents are frustrating, know-it-all bullies, and other times they're right. "I still think we could've avoided a lot of this mess if you'd told me why I needed to keep a low profile, but that ship sailed away and sank a long time ago. How do we get the Wapiti to go away?"

Mom spoke quietly. "I don't know that we can. If they are coming after you like this, they know you're my daughter. My mother won't stop until she gets what she wants. You got some of that attitude."

"So, I should expect more of what happened today?" It was going to be difficult to do my job if I was constantly looking over my shoulder for the big bad witch. Somehow, I didn't think the police would appreciate getting caught in a duel, and their tolerance would be even lower if we destroyed a crime scene.
 

Mom bit her lip and shrugged.
 

"Great," I groaned. Family was the only thing that could make a child-killing demon look tame and easy to manage. "What, exactly, do they want from me?"

Mom rolled her eyes and answered. "My mother wants you because she is a foolish, bloodline-obsessed woman. In the Wapiti, the position of minister can be passed to a female family member without a democratic process. I didn't want to be minister and didn't have the power to meet her standards, so she's got her sights set on you. Without one of us, the ministry will pass out of the family."

"Oh." That explained the tone of her communications and her obsession. Even if Grandmother got her hands on me, she would be disappointed. I didn't want to be governor of a community of witches.
 

Dad gave me a weary smile. "A few things are working in your favor. They want you to join the clan, and you can't do that if you've been injured, so physically you're safe enough. They won't act in public view either. When you are in a group, near the police, or in town, you should be safe. Your grandmother wants you, but she doesn't want to draw any attention to her actions. What's she's trying to do to you is illegal."