Page 36 of Wicching Hour

“I’m sorry we woke you,” I said.

He waved that away. “Nonsense. Would you like to come in?” He waited for Mom’s reaction. When he got none, he said, “Or we could sit on one of Arwyn’s benches over here.” He gestured to the deck.

Mom smiled. It was the first time I’d seen her give him a smile. “You’re right. We should go in and talk first, so we can explain what’s going on.”

He pulled the latch and held the door open for us. Mom looked genuinely surprised by the interior. Bracken had made the RV a kind of beautiful dark wood and green leather study. Mom and I sat on the bench below the window in the front part of the RV. Bracken took his usual wingback chair and then popped back up.

“Tea. How rude of me to have forgotten to offer you both tea.” He went to his kitchenette and gathered three cups.

Mom opened her mouth to stop him but I shook my head, and she listened. It was a day of firsts.

“Sybil, your daughter gave me some of your excellent blends, so I think you’ll like it,” he said.

“I’m sure I will. Thank you.” She studied the compact sitting room and then looked down the hall to the wall of bookcases, his bathroom, and the bedroom he’d turned into an office.

“I’m afraid I have no little nibbles to offer you two.” He handed us our mugs of tea. “Perhaps next time I will. Your daughter is very kind, always making sure this old man is taken care of.” He took his own cup and sat back down.

He gave me such a delighted smile, I had a hard time swallowing the lump in my throat. “I had a vision this morning.”

“Oh?” He picked up the journal on the side table at his elbow. “Anything related to our little problem?” Bracken knew not to use names when it came to sorcerers and the fae. Better safe than sorry.

“Yes, and tangentially.” I went through the vision with him. He stopped me often to ask questions and take notes.

“You haven’t made any peanut butter cookies, have you?” His handwriting was tiny, but I knew it was probably quite clear to his own eye.

“Not in months,” I said, “but I keep tons of baked goods in the freezer, so…” I shrugged. “Hester knows where they are, if she needs to fill in the case.”

He nodded. “So, this could be prophesy. I’ll check everything in your kitchen. I have an affinity for poisons. I believe you were baking earlier today. The workers were quite excited about the cookies you gave them.”

My hand flew to my mouth. Had I poisoned half the black bear shifters in Monterey? No. My hand dropped with the understanding that they’d had time to develop symptoms and they were all fine. “I’m sorry they woke you too. They were here to pack up my art and ship it to two collectors. I made them honey cookies because they’re bear shifters. Oh, and one wicche.”

I turned to Mom. “Do you know the Swans?”

Mom tipped her head side to side. “I know Catherine, sort of. She’s the current head of the family. She’s your Gran’s age. I also know a few of her children.” She shrugged one shoulder. “They’re not a powerful family.”

Bracken nodded. “Though it’s not for a lack of trying. I knew Catherine when I was young. She’s a few years older than me but I thought she was a friend. It turned out she was using me to get close to your grandmother. She seemed to believe she could become more powerful if she used the same grimoire or if she knew what Mary was studying.”

Mom leaned forward at that.

“When I realized what she was doing, I told her she’d never be as powerful as Mary because she was nowhere near as powerful to begin with.” He took a sip. “She didn’t like that. And suddenly, I was an outcast among my peers.” He sighed. “Even my sister had no use for me. Well, I suppose I could have been more tactful.” He took another sip.

“Uncle Bracken,” Mom began, “I’m confused. Didn’t you take the family grimoire and give it to Catherine?”

Bracken’s head whipped around like he’d been slapped. “Of course I did no such thing. Where on earth did you hear such a ridiculous story?”

Mom glanced at me and then turned back to her uncle. “It’s an old story I’ve heard from multiple family members. Our grimoire had gone missing. No one knew where it was. The then-Corey Council did a finding spell, and they located it at the Swans’ house. Gran and Mom went to get it. The Swans swore they had no idea what we were talking about. Mom said she hit Catherine with a truth-telling spell, and Catherine finally admitted that she did have it.”

Bracken’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“She went to her room and brought it back to where everyone was standing by the front door. She told Mom and Gran that you’d loaned it to her, and she was just reading it.”

The look of betrayal on Bracken’s face broke my heart. “I see,” he said quietly. “A person who posed as my friend stole from us and then my family all accepted the story of a liar and thief, assuming the worst about me.”

His hand trailed to his chest. “It was a very long time ago. I don’t know why it bothers me so.”

I went to him and took his hand in both my gloved ones. “Because you’ve spent your life locked outside your family, forever looking in, and no one even bothered to ask you if it was true.”

He took in a deep breath and blew it out. “Yes. I believe that’s why.”

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