Page 53 of Wildfire Witch

“Melisande loved her garden,” I said, slowing only to take Seth’s hand. He looked concerned, but listened with an encouraging expression as we walked. “The high priestess, I mean. My friend. If there is any magic left in Spells Hollow, it would be in the sacred garden. But I’m worried Morfran left something behind to destroy it, since it was something she cherished.”

“You know, I really hate this Morfran person. He messed up a good thing,” Seth murmured.

I breathed a low, humorless laugh. “All because he couldn’t impress Melisande, no less.”

“Good thing he’s dead now,” he said.

I made a noncommittal hum until we rounded the side of the town square and I spotted what remained of Melisande’s family home. A promising bounty of green plant life grew behind it, but before I could breathe a sigh of relief, my eyes landed on the epicenter of the black magic lingering here.

A set of gallows, still perfectly intact. Morfran’s presence lingered up on the deck like a death-touched malignancy. “I dunno, Seth.” My lips twisted in disgust. “Practitioners of the darkest arts tend not to die on schedule. Do you feel that?”

“I do,” all three of my men confirmed, almost at the same time.

“It takes a significant amount of magic to cast this kind of curse. I would venture to say that it’s still feeding off of an energy source around here…or perhaps several. Otherwise, life would flourish outside of the wards,” I said, stroking my jaw thoughtfully.

I turned back around, this time gathering Ceridor’s hand so he’d walk on my other side. Rusty followed closely, so I was surrounded by a solid wall of muscle. “Morfran was not stupid. He earned his title as the Sorcerer of Spells Hollow for a reason.” I was just thinking aloud at this point. “He cursed me in such a way that I would forget who I was, so I would never find the weakness in my curse. But my cursing was part of some preliminary work he did…to cause all this.”

“You believe it’s all related,” Ceridor said. His presence was a cool breath of air in the stifling atmosphere of what Spells Hollow had become.

My brow furrowed as I combed through the memories of my first life. Some of Morfran’s last words to me were,“One member ofevery family has to live to suffer the consequences. Generations to come will remember my name, through curses of my design…”

But why? “Why go through all the bother of cursing all nine witch families that once lived here? Unless it was to obfuscate the way to fix the curse he set here, on the land,” I said, feeling like I was on to something. “My brother’s ghost told me to break my curse…and set free…oh no.”

“What?” Rusty growled.

“Morfran didn’t just curse the land, he cursed the Nightshade legacy. That’s what this has always been about. Ruining what Melisande made out of spite,” I explained. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach, dread to knot up my insides further. “He reversed what Spells Hollow was…a sanctuary. It’s a death trap now. If I could sense spirits, I could confirm it. But I bet you this place is teeming with ghosts that can’t move on to the next life.”

“Fuck,” the dragon shifter said. “That’s fucked up. Time to do your part, my diamond. We have to set your birdie free.”

“Right.” Though Aodhnait thrummed with anticipation, I was so incredibly nervous. What if we hurt her, trying to yank her free of my body?

“Before you do anything else, you have to touch that grass,”she said.

I snorted a surprised giggle.“Are you really making a modern reference right now?”

“No,”she sighed.“Touch the grass we burned.”

We were approaching the ruined Carmine house again. The same reluctance gripped me as before. On some deep level, Ididn’t want to touch the obvious patch of cursed ground. But I let go of my men and bent down, doing so with careful fingertips and ready to snatch my hand back.

“Well, well,” said a voice that chilled me to the bone. I looked up, and there he was. Morfran, a skinny middle-aged man in clothes from another era, his black hair braided back from his face. “If it isn’t Verity Carmine, come to break her curse.”

Rusty growled with unease. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

My three men were watching me, seeing how pale I’d become. They didn’t see Morfran, else they would’ve jumped to put themselves between him and I. Straightening, I gestured that it was okay. “It’s an echo,” I whispered.

I’d triggered a piece of magic Morfran must’ve left here three centuries ago. This echo of him continued talking with a shit-eating grin the whole time. He was turned in my direction, but he wasn’t quite looking at me, nor acknowledging when I stepped closer.

“A what?” Rusty asked behind me.

“A remnant of magic, with a pre-recorded message,” Seth murmured back.

Ceridor remained at my side, glaring at where I was looking. “It’s Morfran?”

I nodded, holding a finger to my lips. The echo was saying, “I’m not sure how you did it, but you figured out that you’re from Spells Hollow. My congratulations. I sincerely hope it took you an eternity. In fact, it would have been for the best had you never found this place at all. But now that you’re here and listening tome, there’s no other recourse for me other than to explain the last part of my revenge.”

“What a bastard,”Aodhnait hissed, her anger giving me the sensation of heartburn.

“I agree, but…there’s more to our curse,”I said heavily. I hated the implications and how gleefully Morfran’s echo delivered them.

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