CHAPTER: 32
CHAPTER: 32
It was nearing afternoon when Adira drove their wagon over the worn path along the shore. Her Aunt
babbled on about the sermon and the food and town gossip and things like that, but she paid little
attention. She could think only of Damien, the way he had touched her. The look in his eyes. His
promise that he would not betray her. Adira told herself she was angry with him for implying that her
being a witch could somehow damn him in front of God. And yet, she longed for the time when she
might see him again. Certainly, her habit of skipping Sunday services would now be a thing of the past.
They were nearly home when Adira saw a woman in the middle of the road. Small and fair with golden
hair, she was down on one knee, bending as if to tie the shoelace. Adira drew the wagon to a halt
before she spotted the pendant dangling from her neck, that she had intended her to see it. It was very
much like the one Adira was wearing.
As Adira caught her breath, she noticed the dagger that lay on the road beside the woman. And this
was not only like her own but was identical to it.
The woman was a witch. An immortal High Witch just like Adira. She had known it was only a matter of
time before another one came for her. She had known she should prepare herself for this day. But she
was not prepared. Not at all.
When the woman's soft brown eyes met Adira's, she shivered. Perhaps she would not escape this
time. Perhaps this would be her last day, Adira thought. But she was not willing to die. Not now, when
she had just found Damien again.
Adira was even less willing to risk her aunt's safety. So holding the strange woman's gaze, she handed
the reins to Aunt Helen. "Go on to the cabin," she told her. "I will come back soon."
"But, Adira... my goodness, girl, what is the matter? Why have you gone so pale?" Aunt Helen asked.
"Nothing. I am fine. I simply wish to speak with... an old associate," Adira replied.
And the woman on the road straightened, gathering her dagger and slipping it into the sheath at her hip
as she stepped away from the track to allow the wagon to pass. She had worn breeches and white
stockings. Her shirt was white, with laces up the front, and she wore no cap upon her short golden
locks.
"You know this person?" Aunt Helen asked in surprise.
"I will tell you all about it later," Adira promised. "Please, Aunt Helen, go ahead. I will join you later."
Her aunt rolled her eyes and shook her head to make sure Adira knew of her displeasure, but after she Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!
stepped down, her aunt did as Adira said, snapped the reins. Onyx drew her aunt away from her, away
from this strange woman, home to safety.
The witch took a step forward, and Adira took an equal step back. And then the woman smiled, but only
very slightly.
"You are right to be afraid, Adira Thompson. But not of me," the woman said.
"No?" Adira lifted her skirts to pull the dagger from its place at her thigh. "You will understand if I
choose caution over the trust." Adira held the weapon in her hands, though they trembled.
The woman looked at it, then at her. For a very long time, she stared at Adira, as if taking her measure.
There was also something else in her eyes. "You don't know me at all, do you Adira?"
Narrowing her eyes on her, Adira said nothing, and it seemed for a moment a great sadness clouded
the woman's face. But she quickly dismissed whatever troubled her, chased it away to some dark
corner, and lifted her chin once more. And then she drew her blade from its sheath, and Adira went
rigid with fear.
But she simply tossed it. It landed at Adira's feet, its blade embedded in the black earth. Adira looked
down at it, blinking in surprise. Was this a trick? she wondered.
"I am not one of the Dark Witches, Adira," she said. "I have not come for your heart."
"Then what do you want of me?" Adira asked.
She shrugged. "Would friendship be too much to ask?"
But, Adira was hesitant.
Shaking her head, the woman untied the string that held her breeches, and as Adira gasped, wide-
eyed, she tugged them low over her right hip, revealing the crescent mark blazed on her skin there.
"Now will you believe, I mean you no harm?" she asked, tying back the breeches and looking not the
least embarrassed.
"That proves nothing. We all have the crescent mark," Adira said.
"My Lord and Lady of the Moon, you are really as ignorant as a babe, aren't you?"
Adira said nothing, only waited for her to clarify.
"The Dark Ones bear the mark on their left flank, Adira. And the moon faces the opposite way. Did you
not know even that much?"
Finally, Adira lowered her dagger. "No," she said. "I am afraid I did not know."
"Then I was right to come to you," she replied.
Adira met her eyes, they were like the eyes of a doe, innocent, while somehow dangerous at the same
time. "I do not understand?"
She sighed deeply. "I shall start from the beginning, then. I am Allison Harley, and I am nearly two
hundred years old." Adira gasped in surprise and even disbelief, but she only went on. "Several months
ago I heard rumors of a lovely witch hanged in a village In England, who had been seen by some
sailors alive and well only days later. And I thought to myself, she must truly be young if she took so
few precautions to disguise her identity. So I set about on the task of finding you, and here I am."
Allison then picked up her dagger, wiped its blade clean of dirt, and replaced it in its sheath at her side.
Adira shook her head slowly. "I still do not understand," she told her, no longer backing away in fear.
"Why would you want to find me?"
"The hanging... it was your first death, wasn't it, Adira?"
Adira nodded.
"Then you have much to learn. You see, young one, if I heard the rumors, if I could so easily track you
down, then you must believe others will do the same. I am here to help you, Adira. To teach you,"
Allison said.
Adira stood before her now, her hands at her sides. Allison offered her hand in friendship, she thought,
and she took it.
And Adira suddenly found herself twisted backward and held in Allison's small but strong arms. She felt
heat tear through her body at Allison's first touch, as if lightning had struck her. And then Adira's own
dagger was wrenched from her hand and held to her heart, and Adira cried out, certain her life was
about to end.