Page 19 of The Rowan
A curt voice pipes in with the remaining introduction. “I’m Amelie Von Dietrich, leader of bloodline two.”
The tiny blonde woman gives me a nod but doesn’t step forward to shake my hand. Interesting. Bloodline two, mastery of illusion and glamour. I glance at Theron and find him assessing Amelie, too. I wonder why she’s wearing such a heavy glamour?
Caro interjects, “And this is Cassandra, my daughter, the most powerful witch in our coven. She’s affiliated with five bloodlines. I believe you’ve met her friends? And of course, this is my other daughter, Charlotte.”
Cassandra crosses her arms. “Of course we’ve met, Mother. We should go shopping later this week, okay?” Her eyes didn’t miss my appropriate attire, and I know she’s wondering if I can afford it or if it’s borrowed.
“That would be lovely,” I reply with a smile.
Caro looks happy with this latest plan. “Now that you’ve met everyone, let’s sit down, shall we?” She directs Lord Theron and I over to the couch. Everyone else drifts over and finds a spot somewhere close to us.
Once we’re comfortable with something to drink and appetizers nearby, she launches into the real reason behind tonight’s invite. “We usually like to invite a new witch and their parents to our meet and greets. Tell me, dear, where are your parents?”
“My mother is dead, and I don’t know my father’s location,” I reply. “My guardians raised me.”
“Do you know your mother’s name?” Her voice is sharp as she digs deeper.
“I’m sure that information is written somewhere,” I vaguely answer. “I’ll ask my guardian.”
“Why don’t you tell us about your guardians?” she asks, her voice high with forced enthusiasm.
My smile is genuine as I describe my family. “My guardians are wonderful, and I’m lucky they agreed to adopt me.” I pause, before continuing, “My adopted mother is Fae. She and V—her mate raised me as if I were their own child. Even when they had their own child, I never felt as if I didn’t belong. Anything I needed, they provided, including training. They invited tutors from everywhere to visit us, but given our isolated existence, I only met a few witches growing up. Thankfully, they could teach me the basics, but they weren’t inclined to share their witch knowledge, which made it tough to trace my roots.”
Caro blanches. “Fae?” Her eyes dart to Lord Theron before continuing. “Interesting. That’s probably why the witches withheld their knowledge. We only like to share our heritage with other witches. I’m sure the Fae are protective of their secrets, as well.”
“Of course,” I assure her, even though I want to scream at her for her obvious disregard for the Fae. Lord Theron subtly squeezes my arm, and I glance down at my hands to regain my composure.
She continues her interrogation. “You don’t remember the names of the witches that tutored you, do you? And tell me about your home. Where did you live that was so isolated?”
Tilting my head to the side, I try to look as if I’m thinking about it. “Sorry, I remember little about the witches because I was pretty young. One was a woman, with brown eyes and red hair. I want to say her name was Anna, but I’m not positive. The other witch was a man with brown eyes and hair, and his name was Tom or Thomas.” I shrug and smile. “We lived on the edge of the Wilds. Are you familiar with that area?”
Her eyes widen. “The Wilds? I didn’t realize anyone actually lived there. Wasn’t that dangerous?” Her lip curls as if she’s discovered a bug in her food.
“Yes it was, but we learned to be careful. Fortunately, most of the inhabitants nearby kept to themselves,” I explain.
The crowd around us stirs, murmuring to each other. The Wilds is a dangerous and alien place to these individuals. With their immaculate houses and intimate knowledge of each other, they can’t imagine living in an unknown environment, far from the rest of the coven.
Caro’s frustration at the lack of information is abundantly clear. “Do you have a grimoire? It’s a large book of spells that’s typically passed from witch to witch. The ancestry of the book is written within it.”
Interesting. My grimoire didn’t have any names in it. “Really? I don’t recall seeing any names in mine. But I have one.”
Her eyes light up. “That’s wonderful. Why don’t you bring it by here, and we’ll go through it together?” Relieved to have discovered a lead, she doesn’t wait for my response, but stands and glances at Clare. “We will find your family, dear. Then we can be sure your placement ceremony is the best it can be. Now, why don’t I give you a quick tour of Witchwood? Shall we?” She strides over to the doorway with only a quick glance back to see if we’re following.
Lord Theron stands and helps me up. “That sounds lovely,” I tell her.
11
ARDEN
Witchwood is impressive. We tour the council’s chambers, where they create witch policy and law, and the adjoining room, where they hear cases and disputes.
Caro shows off the grand ballroom, glittering with magic and sparkling with gems. If I hadn’t been to the light Fae court, the display of wealth would be staggering. It’s still impressive, though.
She seems to care a lot about their wealth. In every room, Caro touts the expense of the furnishings and upkeep it takes to keep it thriving.
“What’s our source of revenue? Who decides the best way to spend it? Is there a budget the coven reviews to make sure it’s spent according to plan?” I question her.
Her mouth tightens. “When you’re part of the coven, we’ll discuss all the important details, dear. Don’t forget, you brought an outsider to our meet and greet today,” she reminds me curtly.
