Page 38 of Fallen Angel

Hannah watched as Raven melted into Callan’s arms. He rested his chin against her hair. Hannah saw a flash of this image when she first heard Nathaniel’s name.

Nathaniel burst through the dwelling door, thrusting it against the wall. A canvas oil painting clattered to the floor.

Callan abruptly stood up. “What do you want, Nathaniel?”

“Mara seeks you. She told me I could find you here.” Nathaniel had a look of disgust as his gaze switched between Callan and Raven.

A look of terror played on Callan’s face. He untangled himself from Raven and was on his feet in seconds. “Tell her I shall be there momentarily,” he said.

Raven stood and brought her face close to Callan’s. She wrapped her fingers around his and held tight. “You do not have to go,” she pleaded in a hushed tone. “Stay with me. We can face her together.”

“It is too soon,” he whispered. He removed his hand from Raven’s and gave her one last gaze. Callan hurried out, his head hanging low. Nathaniel slammed the door shut behind them.

Raven dropped to her knees before the fire. The smell of ash coated the air. She placed her face in her palms. Mara’s hair popped in the flames.

The memory spellpropelled Hannah to a different time within Raven’s home. The house was silent. Raven wrote with irritated vigor in a journal under dim candlelight. Hannah peered over Raven’s shoulder. She wrote,If the balance between light and darkness is corrupted, then the world may never recover. The balance must be restored. It is the responsibility of those who have been chosen by the light—bestowed with benevolence and virtue—to fight against the harmful darkness. Though a witch may not have chosen the power granted to her by light magic, she must ignite that spark within herself and let it burn for the good of the world and the safety of those she loves.

Hannah couldn’t help but think she was speaking directly to her. Her mind buzzed with the memory of the manuscript she found in the library:There is some magic that prefers a certain extreme. That magic searches for those who are most susceptible to channeling either light or dark and settles within them, creating magical prodigies.Hannah’s eyes widened as she pieced everything together.

Raven could resist compulsion. She possessed amazing strength from light magic—good magic. Though Hannah believed Raven to be incredibly different from her, their magic was supposedly the same.Maybe I’m not doomed for darkness after all,Hannah thought.

Raven put down her quill and left the journal open for the ink to dry. She stood from her chair and paced a few times, back and forth, back and forth. She then took a deep breath and swung her cloak around her.

She walked toward the front door, stopped, and turned on her heels. She scribbled one more line in the journal, then blew out the candle. Smoke curled above the parchment.

While black magic may stop at nothing for power, white magic offers hope, even in the darkest of times.

Hannah followedRaven through the woods. Up ahead, Hannah spotted a clearing illuminated by torches. The flames blazed over many faces, some of which she remembered from her previous dream of burning at the stake. Although Hannah knew that Raven’s actions were leading to her demise, she couldn’t do anything to stop her. If she could warn Raven—tell her that Callan would soon betray her, and to run for her life—she would. After reading what Raven wrote in her journal, Hannah knew that Raven was far too honorable and committed to the duties entrusted to her by light magic to ever abandon Callan.

They stopped behind a tree. Tall, Eastern White Pine trees circled a clearing of fallen needles and dried leaves. Light from the moon beamed through the hovering branches. There must have been fifteen or so people, all dressed in black cloaks, standing in a circle. Hannah spotted Mara’s glowing red eyes. She stood inside the circle, Callan by her side. Two male witches dragged a young girl, no more than sixteen-years-old, through the dirt.

“Prithee, no!” she cried. “I want to go home.” Tears streamed down her face, too small to fight against the two cloaked witches who held her in place.

Mara nodded to Callan. He placed his hand on the girl’s shoulder and looked directly into her eyes. “Be calm. You desire to be here. You choose to join our coven.”

The young girl stopped crying and her body stilled. “The honor is mine,” she said. She kneeled down and bowed her head to Mara.

Mara offered Callan a smug smile. “Rise, my dear. You have made a wise choice and shall be rewarded for your pledge of loyalty.”

Without warning, Raven stormed into the circle. Hannah raced after her, terrified of what they were running into, even though this was only a memory.

“That is enough,” she screamed, making her presence known.

Callan’s eyes widened with dread.

“You cannot force people to join your coven, only then to convince yourself that they are here upon their own free-will.”

Mara took a moment to look Raven up and down. She was stoic and never flinched at Raven’s protestations. “You are brave to come and stand against what you do not understand. Perhaps you came upon us this night because you truly wish to belong with us.”

“I completely understand what you are doing here.” Raven’s nostrils flared, and her lips trembled. She was unable to remain as calm and collected as Mara. “And I would never succumb to such darkness.”

“You say that now. Why don’t we enlighten you?” Mara signaled to Callan with a slow nod. He hesitated. “Callan,” she said, her voice firm. “Do you not want your friend to see the truth in our ways?”

Callan’s gaze shifted between Mara and Raven. Hannah’s stomach twisted at the conflicted expression on his face.

“Go ahead.” Raven offered Callan her hand. “Do your worst.”

Callan took Raven’s hand. She nodded and gave him a gentle squeeze.

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