“It wasn’t static. It grew. Became something … other.” Frustrated, he sat up opposite her. “I’m not telling this well. The black silver was created from silver, so already it had a connection to the coven. But it was so much more. When the coven poured their power and energies into it, the element exploded with more potency than anyone had thought possible.”
“What happened?”
“The black silver couldn’t be contained. Not even by magic. Bits of it escaped into the world, beyond the reach of the coven, and it was incorporated into the life of humans.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
Remembering that long-ago time, Rune frowned. “It wasn’t. The element itself was neither good nor bad, just incredibly powerful. But it was drawn to humans of strength—whether evil or decent—and it became whatever they needed it to be. The witches were helpless to gather it all. They were forced to simply witness what they’d wrought on the human world.”
Teresa blew out a breath and jumped off the bed. Her hands scraped up and down her bare arms and firelight slid across her light brown skin like a lover’s kiss. Her features shone in the dim light. Her steps were quick as she paced to the far wall and back again.
He watched her emotions charge across her features, one after the other, each more compelling than the one before. Fear, fury, worry, excitement and finally, he thought, determination. As she had in all of her previous incarnations, she had found her will. And it was fueled by fury.
“These are the witches I come from?” she muttered. “This is the last great coven? They nearly destroyed themselves.”
Rune nodded. “Yes.”
Whirling around to face him, she snapped, “They could have destroyed the world.”
“Yes, but they didn’t.”
“Out of sheer luck,” she argued, then shook her head vehemently. “I had no idea. None. I mean, objectively, you think, magic. I’m a witch. But I never once thought it would be this bad. What am I supposed to do with this? How can I fix it? What could make up for what we did?”
“All we have is atonement,” he told her flatly.
“It’s not enough,” Teresa muttered. “All my life, I thought I was preparing for this. But who the hell could prepare to be faced with hundreds of years’ worth of misery and mistakes?” Her insides trembling, she wondered how she ever could have expected to keep her heart out of this. Her heart was in. No mistake. She had to care. About Rune. About the past. About the future—if she had any hope at all of succeeding.
“Just … tell me what happened next. What did the coven do with the black silver?”
He sighed, got off the bed and walked to her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he felt her quiver. “The coven took all the black silver they could gather and crafted the Artifact. A series of Celtic knots, entwined together into a crest of sorts. Most of the coven hailed from Eire, so the design was familiar to them.”
She frowned as if trying to dredge up the memory to match his words.
“The coven shuddered when they realized the power in the Artifact and vowed to hide it from the world. To protect it—even from themselves.” He added, “The Artifact itself was a powerful focus for magic. And they worried what might happen if they lost control of their own will and tapped the Artifact’s energies. They kept it hidden in a place known only to them and it was safe for centuries….”
“Until?” she asked, lifting her gaze to his.
The torchlight around the room seemed to swim in the air. A breeze he couldn’t feel twisted the flames and sent their shadows dancing across the walls.
“Until the year twelve hundred. The last great coven gathered, reincarnations of the coven that had formed the Artifact. These witches,” he said, his voice dropping, “had reached the pinnacle of their knowledge. Arrogant in their power, they lusted for more. They wanted new worlds to explore, new secrets to understand. They wouldn’t listen to us,” he added under his breath. “They heard no one but the voices inside their own minds and hearts. They opened the sealed Artifact, poured their essences into it and—”
“Opened the gateway to hell,” she finished for him.
“Yes.”
Teresa swayed on her feet as if she’d been dealt a physical blow. She closed her eyes, drew a long, deep breath and whispered, “And the demons raced through the portal. They tore at us, howling, screaming for blood and misery.