Chapter 4

4

I soon discovered the meaning behind my mother’s ominous words. In Sedgwick Cove, being “summoned” meant that you had been asked to appear before the Conclave.

Appearing before the Conclave was not necessarily a bad thing, but it was never a trivial matter either. On the drive over to the Claire family home, referred to by locals simply as “The Manor,” Rhi babbled almost non-stop about all the times the Vespers had been summoned to the Conclave. I knew she was trying to fill the anxious silence to help me feel less fearful of what awaited me in this gathering. Because I knew, somehow, that this wasn’t really about the rest of my family. This was about me.

How I knew this, I couldn’t really say—it was simply this intuition that had lodged itself beneath my ribs, causing my heart to race and my breathing to constrict. If I was honest, I’d been waiting for something like this to happen. It was inevitable after that night on the beach.

That night.

If I’d been waiting for the Conclave’s summons during my waking hours, I’d been waiting with just as much nervous anticipation for the Gray Man’s summons during the hours I lay asleep. I had dreamed of him so many times over the years that I had come to associate him with those murky, nebulous stretches of darkness when my brain dredged up images from the forgotten reaches of my past. But though I dozed off each night with dread nested in the pit of my stomach, my sleep remained dreamless and peaceful. I started to wonder if the strange connection between us had been severed. And now, I wondered if the Conclave might actually have some insight into that.

No one had spoken to me about the events on the beach except for my mom. I knew she had filled in my aunts, and I knew that the Conclave had also been informed of what had happened. I was burning with curiosity about what would happen next, wondering if they would call me in to interrogate me. In my most anxious moments, as I struggled through Rhi’s rudimentary magic lessons, I even wondered if they would call me before them and demand an explanation.

Well, how is it you performed such extraordinary magic on the beach, and now you seem powerless?

What incantation did you use? What spells? What potions? Show us!

Prove it. Call the elements now. Command the ocean and the air.

I supposed my real fear was an interrogation because, of course, I had no idea how I had done it. Sometimes, I wondered if that night, too, had been nothing more than a fantastical dream. I almost wished it was. That would have made more sense than what had actually happened… whatever that was.

By the time we had pulled up to The Manor, Rhi’s babbling had become so high-pitched and borderline hysterical that Persi couldn’t take it anymore.

“For the love of the goddess, Rhi, just shut up already!” she snapped as Rhi killed the engine. Rhi blinked, startled, like her sister had just slapped her physically instead of verbally.

“Oh, I… sorry,” Rhi mumbled.

“Persi, that’s not necessary,” my mom said, her voice weary.

“Well, someone had to do it. Look at Wren. She looks like she’s about to have a panic attack.”

All three sisters turned their appraising eyes on me, and I quickly tried to look unconcerned. Needless to say, I failed miserably. My mom bit her lip, obviously feeling guilty that she’d been too preoccupied to notice my distress.

“Wren, don’t be nervous. I’m sure they just want to discuss the events at the lighthouse.”

I nodded, keeping my mouth firmly closed, because that was exactly what I was nervous about.

We walked up the steps and pulled a fancy rope bellpull by the front door. Inside, a bell that was more of a gong resounded through the house. After what felt like an interminable wait, which was probably only about thirty seconds, a young woman in a simple black cotton dress and pearls opened the door and ushered us in.

“They have servants?” I asked my mother in a whisper, as we crossed the entryway. “Like, actual live-in servants?”

“No,” my mother replied. “I mean, they have help, but that girl is a secretary for the Conclave. Her name is Iris. She assists with all the meetings, and that includes answering the doors. In fact, she was the person who called to alert us about the summoning.”

At that moment, Iris turned, pausing in front of a pair of impressive wooden pocket doors, which I already knew led to the Claire family library. Ironically, I’d already attended a Conclave meeting in that room, as long as we were counting eavesdropping as attending.

“The Conclave is ready for you,” Iris said impressively, and pulled the doors wide.

They sat in a semi-circle, their faces all turned expectantly to watch us enter—with the exception of Lydian, whose chin had dropped onto her chest and bounced off it again with a snorting sort of grunt, indicating she’d been asleep. The others—Xiomara, Davina, Ostara, Lydian, and Zadia, watched in silence as the Vespers filed in. My mother took my hand, and I noticed her fingers were trembling slightly. I squeezed them, not sure if I was trying to reassure her or myself. She squeezed back and attempted a tight smile.

“Thank you all for coming at such short notice,” Ostara said, inclining her head. She gestured to the chairs that had been placed in the circle for us as we all dropped into them, Rhi and my mother looking wary, and Persi wearing an expression more closely suited to defiance.

“It’s not as though we had much of a choice,” Persi said, her voice quiet but fierce.

Ostara opened her mouth, presumably to say something dignified and diplomatic, but Lydian had neither the time nor the patience for that.

“Oh, give it a rest, Persephone,” Lydian snapped. “You sound like a petulant child.”

Rhi smothered a smile behind her hand, while my mother made a valiant effort to disguise a snort of laughter as a sneeze. Meanwhile, Persi glared at Lydian, though I noticed she didn’t quite have the courage to talk back again. It was almost unnatural to see Persi back down from an argument, and I had a feeling Lydian was one of the few people who could produce such a response.

“I acknowledge this summons was rather abrupt, and I do apologize for that, but it was for good reason,” Ostara went on, as though she hadn’t heard the exchange. “We knew that you would be as anxious as we were to know the results of our examination of the lightning sand, and so I sent the summons as soon as we had anything to report.”

I’d been tense before, but now every muscle in my body felt coiled like a spring. I’d been right: this was about the events on the beach, and the interrogation I’d feared was about to occur, with my mother and aunts as a captive audience. My stomach roiled with nausea.

When I’d called on the elements that night on the beach, fire had answered my plea with a bolt of lightning. The lightning had struck the sand, turning it instantly molten, and then the liquid sand had risen up and created a sort of cage, trapping the Gray Man inside. It had all happened so quickly, both in and out of my control. To this moment, I had no idea how much of the night’s events I could really even claim credit for. It felt as though the power had belonged to the elements themselves, not to me. All I’d done was call for help… hadn’t I?

It was all such a blur, such a haze of adrenaline and fear.

“Wren, as I’m sure you remember, the Conclave closed the northernmost stretch of beach so that we could have the time and space we needed to examine the lightning sand. We not only physically roped off the beach, but we took magical precautions to ensure people would steer well clear of the area so that we could keep others safe while we worked, undisturbed.”

I had a momentary vision of the five Conclave members there in front of me, dressed like the witches from Macbeth, down on the beach with a massive cauldron over a driftwood fire, and I felt an almost irresistible urge to giggle. For heaven’s sake, I had to pull myself together, or they’d all think I was cracking up under the pressure of everything that had been thrust upon me in the last two weeks… and maybe I was. I refocused on Ostara, who was still speaking to me, and tried to pick up the thread of what she was saying.

“…used every protective spell we could think of before we began to examine it in earnest. We feared what might happen if we unintentionally freed the Darkness. All we wished to find, at first, was proof of its presence. Once we had that, we could determine how it was connected to the lightning sand.”

“We were so sure of it,” Xiomara said, her deeper, more melodic voice picking up the thread of the story now. We all turned as one to listen to her. “We could sense the strength of the Darkness, the power of it. It seemed, at first, that the Darkness itself must be trapped inside, like a beating heart in the cage of a chest.”

“What do you mean, at first?” my mom asked, her voice sharp. But I’d caught it, too, the hesitation in Xiomara’s tone. It made my heart stutter.

“I mean that it soon became clear that what we were sensing was not the Darkness itself. It was the traces of the magic it left behind,” Xiomara said.

I shot a look across the sofa at Rhi, Persi, and my mom. They all looked as bewildered as I felt, so at least I knew it wasn’t just me.

“I’m not sure I follow,” my mom said. “I thought the Darkness was trapped in that… that sand cage. Are you saying that isn’t the case?”

“We must be realistic, not wishful,” Zadia said, somewhat sternly. “We would all like the Darkness to be contained somehow, but that was never very likely, was it? Especially when a novice witch was involved.”

I felt a surge of guilt and fear. A moment ago, I was worried that I didn’t even understand what I’d done—and now, I was scared that whatever I’d done, I hadn’t done it right. I opened my mouth—I wasn’t entirely sure why, but I expected that I was preparing to apologize. Luckily for me, Persi was easily offended and leaped in before I could so much as clear my throat.

“A novice Vesper ,” Persi said, tossing her magnificent hair and adjusting her posture so that she resembled a queen on a throne. “I think we can all agree that that is nothing to sniff at.”

Zadia smiled and inclined her head in acknowledgment, which seemed to satisfy Persi. Ostara, however, proceeded more carefully.

“Naturally, Wren’s lineage as a Vesper indicates that her potential is great,” she said. “But with no training or knowledge, it is unlikely that her actions on the beach, however admirable or impressive, were sufficient to trap the Darkness permanently. No Vesper has ever been able to do that.”

“And no Claire, either,” Lydian barked, and Ostara had no choice but to nod curtly in agreement, her expression somewhat sour. I heard a soft exhalation beside me, and saw that Persi was making no effort to hide her smile at Ostara’s expense.

“My point,” Ostara said, injecting her voice with a ringing note of authority, “is that Wren, whatever her powers, whatever her intentions, was unlikely, on her own, to have trapped the Darkness permanently. We have now determined that she has not. The Darkness is not contained within the lightning sand. The vessel is empty.”

This piece of information could not help but chill every person in the room. My mother was so tense beside me that I thought she might shatter with the pressure of keeping herself so tight and still. Unsure what else to do, I raised my hand like I was in school.

“Yes, Wren?” Ostara said, a note of amusement in her voice.

“I was just wondering… if the sand didn’t trap the Darkness, then why did everything stop when the sand closed around it?” I asked. “Why didn’t it simply keep coming for me?”

Everyone turned to Ostara expectantly, and she suddenly looked like she would have much preferred not to be on the spot.

“We’re not entirely certain,” she admitted.

“You mean you’re not entirely certain,” Lydian snapped. “I’ve told you my theory, and I’m damn certain.”

We all turned to stare at her. Lydian snorted.

“The older you get, the less people listen to you. I am convinced that Wren’s actions were not creating a spell. They were breaking one,” Lydian said, speaking too loudly and making everyone jump. She looked around at all of our startled faces, and sighed. “Ah, now I see I’ve got your attention. Ask yourselves this: why could the Darkness manifest in the first place?”

No one answered.

“It ought to have been impossible,” Lydian reminded us. “The Darkness was meant to be Bound, cut off from the deep magic, unable to channel or use it. So why could it manifest in the first place?”

“Asteria’s death?” Rhi suggested, sounding both thoughtful and eager. If this had been school, she would have been vying for teacher’s pet. “With Asteria gone and the new Covenant as yet unsigned, perhaps we were more vulnerable than we should have been?”

But that couldn’t be right, I thought to myself. I’d seen the Darkness in that chosen form before—what I’d taken to be a nightmare all my life had actually been a memory. The Gray Man didn’t only appear after Asteria’s death—he had appeared to me many years before while she was still very much alive. I began to raise my hand again to point this out, but Xiomara was already shaking her head.

“The Darkness has appeared in other forms throughout the centuries. It is not impossible that it could manifest when there is something it really wants.”

Every pair of eyes drifted to me.

“Me. You’re talking about me,” I said.

“We must consider why that is,” Xiomara said. “If we are to understand what happened that night, we must also understand why the Darkness is so interested in you.”

It felt like someone had suddenly shoved me into a spotlight. Everyone in the room was not only looking at me now, but examining me —almost as if they were waiting for me to perform a trick, or explode or something. I thought longingly of the door behind me and how much I’d like to flee through it. Before I could make a break for it, though, Xiomara turned her intent gaze from me back to Lydian.

“My apologies, Lydian. You were telling us your theory,” she said, giving Lydian a respectful nod.

“No apologies necessary, Xiomara. You’ve furthered my point. The Darkness wants Wren. When it has wanted something in the past, something it was desperate to obtain, it has used what little magic it can access. It used it again, this time to take a physical form so that it could communicate with her, and lure her to the ocean.” She turned to me. “I am assuming that The Darkness spoke to you. What did it say?”

I felt every pair of eyes burning into me. I reached back into the memory, feeling my own resistance. I wanted to bury this memory, not relive it. But I dug the words up anyway, knowing I had no choice.

“It told me that it needed my magic. That I was the weapon it needed to break the Covenant,” I said, my cheeks flaming, my eyes on my own violently twisting hands. “And then it told me that when I walked into the ocean, we would become one: the Darkness’ eternal state, and my magic.”

My words seemed to cast a pall of horror over everyone who listened, all except for Lydian, who clapped her gnarled hands together with a loud “Ha!” of exaltation.

“There you have it! The Darkness planned to use magic—some of it Wren’s own—to bind the two of them together. But Wren fought back. She broke the spell—cut it off. When that happened, the Darkness lost its hold on its physical form. It was too weak to remain. Her lightning sand did not contain the Darkness; it simply severed the connection between them.”

Lydian looked at each face in turn, waiting for a contradiction that would not come. Her words made sense to everyone, including me. It had never seemed likely to me that I could have defeated the Darkness so simply. But wielding the elements inexpertly, but effectively enough to destroy something—in this case, some sort of connection? That seemed like something I might be able to stumble my way into doing. The others seemed to agree. Heads were nodding, expressions thoughtful as everyone let Lydian’s words sink in. Finally, it was Xiomara who broke the silence that followed.

“Lydian’s theory is the most likely explanation, and one we will continue to explore. In the meantime, we must assume that Wren will continue to be a target when the Darkness has gathered enough strength for another attack. We have no time to waste. You have begun her magical education, as we discussed?”

My mother looked startled, and then blushed a little as she stole a glance at my shocked face. “Yes, we… well, Rhi has already begun.”

I turned to look accusingly at Rhi, who also had the good grace to blush.

“You discussed my magical education without me?” I asked, looking back and forth between Xiomara and my mother.

“We simply impressed upon your mother the importance of understanding your powers as soon as possible,” Xiomara said, looking completely unabashed. “The Darkness chose you for a reason, and it would be foolish in the extreme not to understand exactly why that is.”

I wanted to argue with that, but I couldn’t. My mom took advantage of my momentary wordlessness.

“Wren, listen to me. We discussed it, yes, but I told the Conclave it would have to be your choice. And I gave you a choice, didn’t I?”

I nodded grudgingly, though I still felt betrayed somehow.

“And now that you know the Conclave wants you to explore your gifts, does that make you feel any differently about your decision?”

I sighed, all the sudden anger and indignation draining out of me. I felt suddenly tired. “No. I still would have chosen to stay in Sedgwick Cove, and start learning witchcraft.”

“And have you made any progress yet?” Xiomara asked, looking back and forth between Rhi and me.

“I… I burned some scones,” I volunteered.

Rhi stepped in before I could embarrass myself further. “We’ve started in the kitchen with some basic exploration of intention and simple spellwork. So far, we’ve determined that kitchen witchery is unlikely to be her specialty.”

“I would suggest an affinity study,” Davina said.

“Already?” Rhi asked, raising her eyebrows. “She’s just barely started!”

“These are unique circumstances, Rhiannon. She isn’t a child. She has already been targeted. It is crucial she understand her abilities as soon as possible, especially now that we know the Darkness has not been contained the way we had hoped.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what an affinity study is?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended in my mounting fear and frustration. Why did they insist I come along to this meeting if they were going to insist on talking about me as though I wasn’t even there?

My mother turned to me. “It’s a way to understand how your magic naturally works. Every witch has her preferred medium, if you will. Rhi’s a kitchen witch, and Asteria was a green witch. It doesn’t mean they can only work magic in those ways, but it does mean that their magic will flow most powerfully and naturally in that setting. It’s a bit complicated, but I promise I’ll explain it better when we get home.”

“What kind of w—” I began, too overcome with curiosity not to blurt out the first question I could think of, which was, of course, what kind of witch my mother was. But Ostara seemed to have run out of patience for interruptions.

“To the best of our knowledge, the Darkness has gone to ground again, temporarily banished but by no means gone. It went to great lengths to claim you, Wren. Though your means of defending yourself were truly impressive, I do not believe you have deterred the Darkness permanently. We must be prepared for whatever it may try next, and our best hope for that is to understand why it wants you in the first place. We must understand your magic.”

The fear I’d successfully kept at bay over the past few days came flooding back through me. I hadn’t truly understood what had happened that night on the beach, but I’d hoped, foolishly, I suppose, that I’d somehow managed to put an end to something.

Now, as I stared around the room of solemn, fearful faces staring back at me, I realized that had been a very naive assumption. The only thing that had ended on the beach that night had been any lingering illusions of safety.

The rest of it—the Darkness and its machinations—was only just beginning.