Page 51 of Cocktails & Cauldrons

“You catch on quickly, my dear.”

“Yeah, you’re going to need to not do that.” She gestured with a swirl of her finger toward the lower half of his face. “That packs a punch.”

Again, he laughed.

“Thank you for showing me all this, Mr. Dethridge.”

“Call me Damian. And I have one more gift for you.” Opening an antique cabinet, he withdrew a square object covered in a black satin cloth and handed it to her. “From your grandmother.”

“Gran? She gave you this to give to me?” Brenna’s heart spasmed, and she felt a physical ache.

“Not personally. After she passed away, I received a package from her lawyer. There was a note inside to give this to you on your thirtieth birthday, or before if you came to seek my help first.”

“She knew I’d eventually escape Aunt Odessa,” she said quietly.

“I imagine she did.”

When Brenna made no move to uncover her treasure, Damian reached forward and drew back the cloth for her. The box was jewel encrusted and ancient. The filigree pattern connected the myriad of gemstones and created a breathtaking tree of life.

“Wow!”

“I’ve seen many beautiful keepsakes in my life, but this one is by far the most incredible. It’s the oldest as well. And believe me, I know old,” he said dryly.

Brenna smiled as he’d intended. Fingering the clasp, she glanced up at him. “Should I open it?”

“Here’s probably the best place for it.”

Nodding, she set the box on the closest surface and lifted the lid. The brilliant light nearly seared her retinas, and Brenna threw up her hands to protect her eyes. The instant the light died down to a soft glow, she peeked through her fingers. Inside, there were jewelry pieces with tags indicating who they’d belonged to and dating them from every century. A few rolled parchments were secured with ribbons, and a single key on a string tempted her to slip it around her neck, even though she didn’t know what it was for. Something told her it was important if her grandmother had passed it on.

But the real treasure was Gran’s journal. The sight of that journal brought burning moisture to Brenna’s eyes. She remembered the many times she’d crept from bed to find her grandmother secreted away in her room, pen in hand, and gazing out over the darkened landscape. The heart-wrenching unhappiness on Gran’s face had made Brenna sad. And the one time she’d questioned Doreen, she’d been shooed back to bed with a smile and a kiss, making her believe it was all imagined.

“She left me her journal,” Brenna said in wonder. “I’ve always wondered what had happened to it. I thought I imagined her writing in it.”

“It’s possible there are things in there not fit for a child to read.”

“I would imagine so.” With reverence, she lifted the book and ran her fingertips over the top. “Do you think she wrote about you in here?”

“Perhaps. But those scrolls will tell you what you need to access your abilities. Read them carefully, Brenna.”

“I want to read what Gran wrote before I make any rash future decisions, Damian. Do you think that’s possible?”

“Of course. You’re welcome to use my study.”

She followed him from the ceremony chamber, settled into a comfy chair by the hearth, and tucked her legs under her as he secured the door to his private room. “Will you tell the others they don’t have to wait for me? They can go about their day.”

He gave her a half smile and a nod, then exited.

Brenna muffled a yawn as she opened the journal. She needed answers, and now was not the time for sleep.

My dearest Brenna…

She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back a startled cry. All those years, Gran had been writing this journal forher!Her fatigue quickly passed, and a wave of nostalgia and longing hit her with every word she read. Soon she was completely engrossed.

“Right this way.”

Damian opened a doorway to the most magnificent studio Eoin had ever set foot in. The floor-to-ceiling windows on three full walls of the room allowed sunlight to stream and provided a view of the landscape that sang to his artist’s soul.

“’Tis grand, it is. I’ve never seen its like.”

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