Chapter 7

Idrove my truck to Bridger Farm, slowing to a crawl when I reached the dirt road that cut through the forest. I hunched over the steering wheel, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of animals. I didn't want Gary and I to be responsible for turning the white hart into roadkill.

I parked the truck within sight of the farmhouse. The forest was relatively quiet in this section, but not unusually so. I heard the squawk of birds and the rustle of leaves. I passed a compact Honda out front. My guess was the unfamiliar car belonged to Ashley Pratt. Nana Pratt had asked me to help her wayward granddaughter find a job. I knew Phaedra needed an extra pair of hands at the farm, although I wasn't sure Ashley would be willing, given the fact that Phaedra's family had tried to sacrifice Ashley in the backyard. To her credit, Ashley said yes.

The interior door stood ajar. I knocked on the screen door and took a step backward as it swung open to admit me.

"Hi, Lorelei. I'm in the library," Phaedra's voice said. Her farmhouse ward was far more sophisticated than the one at the Castle. Then again, Phaedra didn't have to pay for her own services.

I walked through multiple rooms of the old farmhouse until I reached the family library. There was no sign of Phaedra, only books. On the table, a tower of books slid aside to reveal the witch.

"Peekaboo," she said.

"This looks like a project."

"You're not kidding. I'm reorganizing. My family wasn't the best at keeping things in any kind of order." She stood and swept a small pile of books off a chair. "Come in and sit. I wouldn't mind the company. I'm tired of talking to myself. I can be so boring sometimes."

"Isn't Ashley here?"

"She's working outside. She seems to prefer it, which is good because I'm sick of the cold. Spring can't get here soon enough."

"Amen to that. How's she working out?"

"So far, so good. She told me she wanted to find her calling in life, and I think she might have now."

"Farm work?"

Phaedra smiled. "And witchcraft."

Ironic, considering witchcraft had nearly killed her. "She isn't a witch, though."

"No, but she can qualify as a Witch's Assistant. A skilled Witch's Assistants is invaluable. Our family never needed one because we had the coven, but they're in demand among witches who live alone or in more isolated areas."

"That's great news." I wasn't sure how Nana Pratt would feel about her granddaughter devoting her life to the practice of magic, but if Ashley was happy, that was all that mattered.

Phaedra nodded. "With Ashley here, I'm finally able to tackle these other projects that have been lingering, like the library. You wouldn't believe the amount of dust that can gather in one room."

"Oh, I definitely would. You should've seen the Castle when I first moved in."

"I'll bet. Want a drink? I have a pot of mint tea brewing. Ashley usually takes her break around now."

"Sounds good to me."

As we exited the library, Ashley entered the house through the kitchen door, clutching a wire basket of eggs. Her hair was now a light blonde threaded with strands of pale pink. She'd styled it in two braids that made her look a couple years younger than her nineteen years. She was dressed sensibly in a fleece hoodie, jeans, and boots.

"Hey, Ashley."

The corners of her mouth turned upward. "Hi, Lorelei. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I stop by on occasion."

Phaedra smiled sweetly as she poured the tea. "When she needs something."

Her response took me off guard. "Would you like me to visit when I don't need something?"

She carried a tray with three teacups to the table. "I wouldn't mind the company."

"You have company," Ashley said, swinging the basket onto the counter. "Or does paid help not count?"

"You count," Phaedra and I said in unison. It seemed we were both eager to let the young woman know she mattered. I suspected Phaedra's reason was similar to mine; the loss of family had a way of warping your perspective. Over time, it was easy to forget you were loved unless there were others willing to step in and remind you.

Phaedra distributed the three teacups, and I sat.

"How's the job?" I asked.

"I love it. Of course, Steven was convinced I'd bail on day one."

"Because of what happened to you here?" I asked.

"No." She held up her dirty hands. "Because manual labor isn't exactly my strong suit. My manicure is ruined."

"I have work gloves you can wear," Phaedra offered.

"No, thanks." Ashley turned on the faucet and washed her hands in the sink. "Turns out I like dirt. There's something about the feeling of the earth on my skin that appeals to me."

Phaedra glanced at me with a knowing smile. "Careful, Ashley. You're starting to sound like a witch."

"More like a gardener," Ashley replied, drying her hands on the kitchen towel. "Nana Pratt was an avid gardener. I can still remember her with her butt in the air, elbow deep in flowers at her house."

I bit back a smile. Nana Pratt would hate that description.

Ashley pulled out a chair and sat. "So what is it that you need? A magic thingamajiggy?"

"I'm here to ask Phaedra about a ward." Among other things.

Ashley balked. "Another one?"

"Not for my house. For the crossroads."

Ashley scrunched her nose. "What?"

I looked at Phaedra. "You haven't told her?"

She gave me a nonchalant shrug. "It hasn't come up."

I debated whether to include Ashley in the conversation. In the end, I decided it was best that she knew about the Wild Hunt. After all, she was now at risk, traipsing through the woods each day to get to Bridger Farm.

Phaedra jumped in first. "There's a place in Wild Acres where creatures can access Fairhaven from other realms."

"Like the creature that your family used to try to kill me," Ashley said matter-of-factly.

"Exactly. The crossroads acts as a doorway," I said. "And we're about to receive a visit through that doorway from a group known as the Wild Hunt."

I heard Phaedra's sharp intake of breath beside me. "They're coming here?"

I nodded. "That's the reason I'm here. First, I want to know if there's anything we can do to prevent them coming through the crossroads." Although I knew it was a long shot, I had to try.

Phaedra burst into laughter. "I'm flattered, but how powerful do you think I am? My entire coven couldn't have managed such a feat."

Ashley observed me through a curtain of thick mascaraed lashes. "Are they a problem? We get hunters in the woods all the time."

"If you knew what the Wild Hunt was, you'd understand," I told her.

Ashley smiled. "Sounds like a party to me."

Phaedra fixed her with a steely gaze. "Trust me. You wouldn't feel that way if you crossed paths with them. There's nothing fun about the Wild Hunt unless you're one of the hunters."

Ashley examined her fingernails for more dirt. "What do they hunt?"

"Whatever they want," I said.

"We've got plenty of animals in these woods that need to be culled. I don't see the problem."

"Ashley," I said slowly. "When I said whatever they want, I meant it. Their new leader is more dangerous than any master huntsmen before him. Vortigern might take one look at you and decide pretty blondes are on the menu."

Ashley lit up. "You think I'm pretty?"

Phaedra groaned. "I think she missed the point. You might want to rephrase."

"These hunters aren't like ones you know," I stressed.

"Think of them as land pirates," Phaedra added. "They'll take what they want and run off with it … or her. And if they ride back through the crossroads with someone, it would be next to impossible to save her."

Ashley grimaced. The thought of being kidnapped again didn't seem to sit well with her. "And you can't block the entrance to the crossroads?"

"Not me," Phaedra said. "The most I could do is an illusion spell to make them think they're somewhere like a desert so they turn around and go back, but I doubt it would hold long enough to fool them."

Concern lined Ashley's brow. "Do you know anyone with the kind of magic that could block the path?"

"I have another card up my sleeve," I hinted. "I won't know for sure until tonight though."

Phaedra gave me a knowing look. "Your mage friends?"

I nodded. "It's another long shot but worth asking."

"And what if they can't?" Ashley asked. "Should I stay home for the next week?" She moaned. "I have a date tomorrow night."

"Does the date involve a hike through Wild Acres?" I asked.

"Not yet, but if he plays his cards right, it could involve a parked car off the beaten trail."

"Stick to downtown," I suggested. "Avoid Monk's."

Phaedra's shoulders slumped. "You should probably stay away from the farm until the hunt is over. I don't want to risk putting you in harm's way just for extra help around the house."

Ashley's spine straightened. "Like a paid holiday?"

Phaedra licked her lips, debating. "Sure."

Ashley broke into a broad smile. "Great. Should I leave now?"

"I don't think today's the day," I said, although the fact that I hadn't seen or heard from Matilda today was unsettling.

"Still," Ashley said. "They could surprise us. That's what pirates do, isn't it? Sneak up on unsuspecting ships and take over?"

Phaedra sighed. "That's a good point. You should probably leave now, before sundown."

Ashley practically knocked her chair over in her effort to escape. "Tell Nana I miss her, and I'll come see her soon." Ashley blew me a kiss and hurried from the house.

I frowned at Phaedra. "You don't really think…?"

"Of course not, but she seemed so excited, like it's a school snow day. How could I disappoint her?"

I laughed. "You're a good witch, Phaedra Bridger."

"I wish I were good enough to stop the hunt. The mere idea of them is terrifying."

"I'm working on a multi-step plan, if that helps."

Her lips formed a thin line. "Considering your plan involved me, I can't say I'm filled with confidence."

"Any chance the Bridger library has information about the Wild Hunt?" Just because Matilda was a former party member didn't mean she knew everything that had been written about it. There might be information that could help us.

"I'll take a look, but I don't recall anything offhand."

I sipped my tea. "There's more."

Phaedra's lips grew thin. "I'd be disappointed if there wasn't."

"There's a white stag in the forest."

"Really?" Her expression grew wistful. "I'd love to see a white hart."

"He's gorgeous," I admitted. "But if Vortigern finds out it's here, he'll rip up every tree by the root to find it." Then again, based on the photos, he'd probably do that anyway.

"The stag isn't the reason he's coming?"

"No." I left it at that.

Phaedra's eyebrows drew together. "Isn't the white stag supposed to have legendary powers?"

I nodded.

"And I'm guessing we don't want this master huntsman to increase his power."

"We do not."

"How can I help?"

"We're thinking if we can locate the stag and herd it to another realm before the Wild Hunt arrives, that will eliminate one problem."

"But if the stag isn't the reason they're coming, that won't stop them."

"Unfortunately not. That's a separate issue."

"Now I understand the reason for a multi-step plan." Phaedra gazed into her teacup. "I wish I could help you find it, but my magic isn't the answer. The white stag has lived to be an ancient mystical creature because it's very good at avoiding capture." Her chin lifted. "If it was as simple as a locator spell, every hunter in search of greater power would have a witch or wizard on the payroll."

"That's what I assumed, but I figured the question was worth asking."

Phaedra wrapped her fingers around the teacup. "I feel so useless right now. I'm sorry."

"Please don't apologize. I feel the same way. Even if we manage to send the white stag away, the Wild Hunt can do a lot of damage here. I've seen photos of the aftermath in other places." I shook my head. "We've got to find a way to prevent that level of devastation or Wild Acres will never recover."

Phaedra's fingernails clicked against the outside of her teacup. "What about a spell to see the imminent future? We might learn something that helps us change it." She pushed back her chair and skirted the counter to enter the kitchen. "It's a simple looking glass spell. I should have all the ingredients I need."

"Won't that just be a mirror? A reflection of the current reality?"

Smirking, she reached for a bottle on the shelf. "Does a funhouse mirror show you the current reality?"

"Gods, I hope not. It means I either look like a pool noodle or Jabba the Hutt."

Phaedra cackled. "That's quite a range."

"I don't understand, though. A funhouse mirror is distorted, but you're trying to see the future."

"The looking glass spell involves a glimpse of an unfamiliar situation."

"Why not choose a clairvoyant spell?"

"Because the Wild Hunt is otherworldly, and the looking glass is designed to see the strange and unexpected." Phaedra took a pinch of turmeric and added it to the cauldron.

"Turmeric?" I queried. "Isn't that for purification?"

"For sun energy, which will help us with illumination in this spell." She continued adding ingredients, unperturbed. "Do you doubt my prowess, Miss Clay?"

"Of course not." It was my old trust wound around witches rising to the surface. I tamped it down. Phaedra had earned my respect, as well as my trust.

She stirred the contents of the cauldron and peered inside. "Hmm."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, as in I can't see anything. You try."

I walked over and peered into the cauldron. The colorful liquids swirled into a recognizable form. My reflection, except?—

The mark of the rose on my forehead was visible.

I snapped upright and jerked toward Phaedra. "Do you see something on my forehead?"

She scrutinized my face. "Like what?"

"A mark of some kind."

"Not even a freckle. I'm envious."

I looked back at the contents of the cauldron. My reflection was gone, replaced by three identical silhouettes. I watched closely to see whether they came into focus.

Three women.

At first, I thought they might be the Fates, but these women weren't the Moirai sisters I'd met at Eternity Fashion House. They looked like triplets.

I motioned for Phaedra to come closer. "Can you see them?"

Her head joined mine over the cauldron. "No, all I see is murky liquid."

A vision for my eyes only. Why? What did they hope to tell me?

"What do you see?" Phaedra asked. "Is it the Wild Hunt?"

"No. Three sisters."

"What's the mark on your forehead?"

"Nothing. Only a spot." I wasn't willing to share that I sported an invisible rose that kept me hidden from the Fates and, apparently, The Corporation too.

"Do you recognize the women? Maybe they're your ancestors."

"I don't think so." There were no familiar features. I looked again, but the women had blended with the murk. After observing the liquid for another few minutes, I finally gave up.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more help. Spells about the future can be especially tricky."

"I'm grateful that you're always willing to try. I appreciate your efforts."

"It's in my best interest. Bridger Farm is at risk if the hunt comes. My house, my livestock…"

"We'll figure something out." I stopped short at promising; that I couldn't do.

"I meant what I said earlier, you know."

My gaze swung to meet hers. "About Ashley?"

"No, about you. It's hard to make friends at this age, especially in a town as small as Fairhaven. I wouldn't mind if you and I hung out more often, outside of threats to life and limb."

"I don't have a great history with witches, just so you know."

"Are you lumping me in with every witch you've ever known?"

"No." I paused. "But I want to."

Phaedra let loose a low whistle. "I would love to know what they did to you."

Unwelcome memories flooded my brain. "Until I met you, I was zero for thirteen in my dealings with witches."

"I'm glad I could tip the scales a little."

"Part of me is still convinced you're the exception rather than the rule."

Phaedra cleaned up the remnants of the spell. "Seriously, though. I'd love to hear the story, if only to avoid repeating their mistakes."

"You wouldn't." My response was instinctive and immediate. Phaedra wasn't capable of such treachery and my subconscious registered that fact, likely from the moment I'd met her.

"Come on, Lorelei. Share. It might make you feel better."

Her encouragement was the opposite of what I'd been taught. Hide. Stay small. Don't reveal more than is absolutely necessary. Standing in the Bridger kitchen across from a witch who'd proven herself trustworthy on multiple occasions, I felt my natural resistance wane.

"I'll tell you one quick story. When I was younger, I met a witch named Sloane." This was after Pops had died, after foster care. It was my first experience living completely on my own and I'd gravitated to the confident, friendly witch. "Sloane represented everything I wanted. She was open with her magic, with her identity. She lived in the bosom of a warm, loving family. She quarreled with siblings and kept a diary with an enchanted lock. Her family hosted these big dinners on Saturdays where they'd include special guests. When they invited me to join, I was over the moon. I felt like I'd been adopted by a fairy tale."

"They didn't lock you in a cage to fatten you up, did they?"

"No. It was worse. Sloane had been pretending to be my friend. None of her kindness had been genuine. Her family lured me to the dinner to extract information."

Phaedra's brow furrowed. "What kind of information?"

"They were certain I was from a rival coven and that I had befriended Sloane as part of some magical espionage scheme."

"Witches can be a paranoid lot."

"When I didn't answer their questions to their satisfaction, they tortured me."

If I let myself, I could still feel the sting of the cat o' nine tails as it lashed my tender teenaged skin. "Sloane stood there with her arms folded and her head held high. She looked so smug. To this day, I'm not sure what made them think I was a witch. I showed no outward signs of supernatural abilities." Pops and his words of wisdom were still too fresh in my mind to be questioned in those days. It was a relief that the coven's interrogation was hyper-focused on witchcraft. Their narrow lens had enabled me to keep my secrets.

Phaedra waited to speak until she was sure I'd finished. "I am so sorry that happened to you. You did nothing to deserve that."

"It was a formative time for me. Maybe if it had happened later in my life, I could've absorbed the shock better." But I'd been so alone and eager to find a safe space after years of solitude and uncertainty, and the witches had weaponized that desire against me. "There were other instances later, with different witches. None had a happy ending."

"And then you met my murderous family." Phaedra shook her head. "Sweet Hecate, I can see why you're reluctant to trust my kind."

"I already had trust issues, but Sloane killed witches for me."

"I'm sure she sensed your power and assumed it was witch-based magic."

I met her gaze. "Did you think I was a witch when we first met?"

"No, but I could tell there was more to you than meets the eye. Dare I ask how you escaped?"

My jaw clenched at the memory. The mother's ice-cold hand gripping my neck to throttle me for a third time. My survival instincts overriding my self-imposed prison. I saw her eyes roll to the back of her head as I inflicted my own brand of torture, raising her worst nightmare until she fell off a cliff into an ocean of insanity. Her screams dragged across my psyche like sharp tears in the fabric of reality. It was the first time I'd thrown open the floodgates of my power and let myself go.

Needless to say, Sloane's mother would never again torture another living creature, not even a plant. I fled their house, packed my bags, and left town that very night before the coven could regroup and plot their revenge. Self-defense or not, I'd felt immense shame for what I'd done. The coven had refused to believe my answers because they didn't want to. There'd been a sadistic quality to their interrogation that had rocked me to my core. I'd endured my share of unpleasant life experiences up to that point, but nothing quite like Sloane's family dinner.

Phaedra must've sensed my hesitation because she said, "You don't have to answer, Lorelei. I appreciate how much you've already shared. I know it couldn't have been easy to relive it."

I drew a deep breath. "On that note, there's something else you deserve to know." I told her the truth about my identity.

By the time I finished, Phaedra's grin stretched from ear to ear.

"Why do you look so pleased?"

"You shared your deepest, darkest secret with me. That means we're officially friends."

I processed her logic. "I guess it does."

Phaedra plucked a knife off the table. "Then let's make it official."

Instinctively, I jerked back. "Excuse me?"

"We slice our palms and mix the blood together. Witch ritual. A witch-ual, if you will." She watched my face closely before breaking into a cackle. "I'm kidding. There's no ritual. Only if I secretly wanted to control you like a puppet, but I'd need a few more ingredients. Blood isn't enough." She stopped talking and looked at me. "This is the kind of thing that worries you about witches, isn't it?"

I compressed my lips. "It is, not that I'm one to talk. I can puppeteer ghosts even without a spell."

Phaedra set the knife on the counter and pushed it away. "Is that why the ghosts stay at the Castle with you? They don't have a choice?"

"Gods, no. Ray and Nana Pratt were given the chance to cross over. They opted to stay for their own reasons. If I had my way, they'd be somewhere over the rainbow by now."

"Why didn't you?" Phaedra asked. "Have your way, I mean. You're their goddess, right? They'd have no choice but to follow your orders."

"A moment of weakness," I admitted.

"But you could make them go now. It's been what, like a year?" Phaedra snorted. "That's a lengthy moment of weakness."

I shrugged. "Ray is handy and smart, and loves research, and Nana Pratt is an excellent baker who loves gardening. I honestly don't know what I would do without them at this point."

Phaedra's face softened. "You're a good goddess, Lorelei Clay. No matter what you may tell yourself, Fairhaven is lucky to have you."