Page 58 of Hearts of Stone

The looks on the faces of those old bastards when they saw that white glow in her palms. I’d been too long out of this world, forgetting the avaricious ways of these men, and others of their ilk. They saw an opportunity, not a woman, a human being with her own wants and needs. Or, more likely, each of them saw a compliant vessel for his son’s seed, enabling him to take control of the Whiteley estate. It was only Mellors’ hard work and Master Ashley’s foresight that had stopped the families frompicking the estate clean while the search went on for Jade, but now… I pushed forward, forcing those around me to make way, because I was my mate’s herald, announcing her presence to everyone here and making sure she got where she needed to go.

“Graven, son of Merriam.” When we reached Mother Agnes’ tent, the flaps flipped open, and the woman herself appeared in the doorway. She was tall, strong, with a proud bearing, even though the years weighed heavily upon her. Her keen grey eyes took me in and then she nodded with a slight smile. “You come for my assistance.”

“The mistress of The Eyrie has been found,” I said, stepping aside to reveal Jade. “She is of Madeline’s line.”

“Just as Ashley predicted,” Agnes said. She approached Jade, hands outstretched. That white light started to glow in Jade’s hands instantly, each woman’s power calling out to each other. “And powerful too. You’ve got quite a gift there, young lady.”

“The gargoyles seem to think you can help me to wield it?” Jade asked.

“That I can,” Agnes said, ushering us inside the tent.

I wasn’t able to take a full breath until the flaps fell closed behind us. The wise woman’s tent was filled with the incense-like stink of magic, but, as opposed to the overpowering odour in the Whiteley building, here it was all mellow amber and sandalwood. Lamps hung from the supports of the tent, filling it with a cosy glow. Mother Agnes sat down in a high-backed wooden chair. She directed Jade to sit across from her, then gestured for us to do the same. Seneca was about to take her up on her offer, but I shot him a hard look. We would stand at our mate’s back, ready to assist her in any way she required.

“So you want to learn how to wield magic?” Agnes asked. “What training have you had?”

“Does watching Harry Potter count?” Jade replied, with a sheepish smile. That faded under Agnes’ steady gaze. “Then none. Up until very recently, I didn’t even know it existed.”

“And you’ve been carrying this around the entire time…” Agnes seemed to be talking half to herself. She lifted her hands and summoned the teal green glow of her power, gesturing for Jade to do the same. “Non-aligned power. Hmmm. Let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

She slid her hands into Jade’s, linking their fingers and that’s when I heard the sharp intake of my mate’s breath. I couldn’t help but move closer, to put my hand on her shoulder. To steady her, support her, lend her power, if that’s what she required, or just to make clear she was not alone in this. As their hands stayed connected the green of Agnes’ power glowed stronger, although the green became lighter by the second until there was an unexpected reaction.

Mother Agnes had set up her tent on this spot many, many years ago, back when the markets were first founded. Her tent then had been a simple structure made from heavy canvas laid over gum tree boughs she’d had to cut down and shape herself. In the years since, the fabric had been swapped over for the many coloured wonder it was now, each panel constructed from a wild variety of colours and textures, each piece of fabric stitched carefully, symbols of power inscribed into each one. I watched in awe as they lit up, one after another, the gold, copper and silver stitching brightening, but the power surging between them would not be contained there. Runes carved into the wood of the supports lit up as well, but that wasn’t all. The old wood was polished smooth with age, so that you could see every whorl and knot, making it obvious when they began to sprout.

“Whoa…”

Jade looked around her in amazement, and I admit we all did the same. I had served multiple adepts over the years, but neverhad I seen anything like this. Tendrils poked out of the wood, quickly becoming twigs, then branches, leaves quickly covering the tree. Agnes nodded slowly and then withdrew her hands.

“The goddess must’ve been smiling down on you, bringing you to me so early in your training. You’re the Whiteley girl.”

“Barlow…” Jade replied weakly before conceding. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“So you’re the heiress to a great fortune, the last of your family and you’ve got undesignated power that seems in a great rush to express itself.” Agnes shook her head. “You’re going to need to be very careful. My power is earth-based, with a bit of water affinity.” She pointed to a nearby branch and within seconds it was laden down with green gumnuts. “But yours… It seemed to grab the small suggestion I pushed and run with it, transforming my entire tent.”

Agnes sat back in her chair and stared at Jade.

“That alone will make you highly desirable to any warlock. Your power will be sympathetic to any of theirs, no matter their affinity. They’ll bloody love your ability to amplify theirs.”

“So, what does that mean?” Jade shrank back against her chair. “I’m some sort of magical battery?”

“Not impressed with that idea?” Agnes asked, with a wry smile. “Keep that energy, girl, because you’re only that if you allow yourself to be. You can use that power in the service of your own ideas, or someone else’s, but first, we’re putting my tent back to rights.”

“OK.” Jade rubbed her hands together, not seeing that the white light grew brighter by the second. “So you’ll—”

“Youwill set it back to rights,” Agnes corrected. “Were you raised in any particular religious tradition? Christian? Muslim? Jewish? Perhaps a New Age Buddhist?”

“Ah, no, none of that. My parents were agnostic, I think.”

“Hmmmm. That makes things easier and harder. If you’re raised in a religious tradition, that helps shape your understanding of the world. Mystics of the different faiths create grimoires, spell books, sacred scrolls for performing magic, but they’re just props. At their core, all magic is made up of the will.” Agnes tapped her temple. “And the way.”

“So I’m supposed to Avada Kedavra the trees?” Jade asked, twirling her fingers in the air as if she was wielding a wand. From the expression that then crossed her face, I don’t think she was expecting to see the branches shift in the breeze she created.

“You’re supposed to close your eyes and visualise the tent the way it was when you walked in. What did it look like? How many lamps were there? What did the supports look like? Were they smooth or rough? Visualise it as clearly as you can…” Jade’s eyes closed obediently as she did just that. “And then feel the power inside you. It’s there, like your breath, like your heartbeat. Feel it well up inside you like a spring, and then let it create the reality you’ve visualised inside your head.”

Jade didn’t open her eyes, so she didn’t see the moment the leaves fell from the branches as they retracted back. Perhaps that was a good thing, because I couldn’t keep the great rush of pride I felt from showing on my face. She turned the boughs to twigs again, then tendrils, and even that was swallowed back by the aged wood. It looked somewhat smoother than I remembered, as if she was only working with a fuzzy memory. Regardless, the tent had returned to its former state. Agnes nodded at me slowly, then turned to Jade when her eyes flicked open.

“Oh. Wow…”

My mate’s hands slapped down onto the arms of the chair, her knuckles going white as she gripped them, which forced us closer. We didn’t need to be asked. Both of my hands squeezed her shoulders. Seneca dropped down to take her hand and place his other one on her knee, while Carrick gripped her arm to keepher stable. I felt it then, something I had felt each time I served one of my masters: a pull of power moving from me to her. But this was so very different. My breath came from me in little pants as I felt something glorious.

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