Tierra de Moray jumped with the knife poised over her palm. Ah, crap. She'd been found out. Now there would be hell to pay.
“Aunt Justine, don't sneak up on me like that!” She'd have to start the chant over now. Everything had to be precise or the spell wouldn’t work, and it had to work. She couldn't go on like this any longer without going crazy.
“You don't know what you're dealing with,” Justine said, her fingers curling at her sides. Her face lost its mask of youth and she looked more her true age of sixty than the glamour of forty. “You're dabbling in things you don't understand.”
It wasn't like she hadn't asked over the years. “It’s a simple finding spell.” With a lot of summoning added in.
“Tierra, listen to me. Some things are lost for a reason and should never be found.” Panic rose in her voice, causing it to shrill and stir the wind in warning.
“Are you ready to share those reasons with me?” Tierra demanded.
Justine had raised her after her mother had died in childbirth. Whoever her father had been still remained a mystery as the de Moray women didn't keep their men. There wasn't a man alive who had what it took to live with a de Moray witch. One of the many things Justine had refused to speak of, and Tierra had asked, begged, and wheedled over the years to no avail.
She waited with bated breath one last time to see if Justine would finally answer her questions. The tightening of Justine's lips was loud enough.
“I thought so,” Tierra muttered, ignoring the hurt that came with her aunt's continued silence. “I need to find out. Part of me is missing. Once and for all, I'm putting an end to this.” Either she'd finally know what had been taken from her, or she'd lose this void that echoed in her soul for good.
It was a two-part spell. She didn't waste energy if she could help it. Her movements were sure, confident as the earth whispered to her of ancient things, and directed her in the pathways of witches who'd practiced before her. Her bare toes curled into the lush grasses and rich soil underneath her feet.
She was an earth witch and while she rocked on the spring equinox—and the solstices—it was the autumn equinox that was really her night to rule the world. She couldn't wait that long. The circle was closed. The elements of air, water, fire, and earth all present at four directions within the circle representing north, south, east, and west.
Tierra untied the soft cotton shift and it drifted like mist to the ground. She stood naked under the tree limbs, having previously bathed with essential oils in preparation. The Pacific Northwest's old-growth forest of spruce, hemlock, fir, juniper, and bristlecone pines hovered over her in protection, their branches curved as though cradling a child. The air stirred and teased the long strands of her hair, the color of burgundy wine, in a dance around her torso. The scent of burning sage, lavender, and thistle wafted in the crisp night air.
“This is nonsense, Tierra. Don't make me put an end to this.” Justine tried to break into the circle and was repelled back a few steps. It spoke to her aunt's level of power that the push hadn't sent her all the way home.
Justine could try, but she wouldn't be able to enter the circle. Tierra had planned to perform this spell tonight, on the spring equinox, with its blood moon, making sure she'd be more powerful. More powerful than her aunt.
For as long as Tierra could remember, she felt as if a significant part of her had been ripped from her soul. The only thing that made sense was an article she'd read about soldiers who'd lost limbs in battle, and the phantom pain that never left them. She had all her arms and legs, fingers and toes, but on another level something just as important had been severed from her.
Justine wasn't talking, and neither was the coven.
The earth would reveal her secrets.
“Stop this, Tierra.” There was a threat in her voice now as Justine tried to tear into the circle, her fingers shaped like claws. This time the circle tossed her back a few yards. The next attempt would knock her on her ass.
Tierra restarted the spell her aunt had interrupted and raised the knife until the light of the blood moon glinted crimson off