The Witch Stone - Emily Oakes Page 0,70
some rest.”
“Good idea,” Brenna said, yawning. The earlier events were starting to take their toll.
“Goodnight, ladies.”
“Goodnight, Ronan,” Brenna said, smiling at him. His eyes lingered on her before leaving. Kiba sauntered after him.
Maggie took a burger out of the sack and unwrapped it. She tore off a chunk, letting sauce roll down her chin. She handed one to Brenna.
“So,” Maggie said with her mouth full. “What next?”
“The spell Hawthorn left us.”
“What about the thing after us? What is it?”
Brenna filled Maggie in about the judge. “Oh yeah, he possessed my lawyer, too.”
“I knew it!”
“No, you did not.”
“Yeah, but I knew that guy was a dick.”
“It’s so disturbing that I’ve been talking to this, this sinister thing.” Brenna shuddered. She saw Maggie do the same.
“So if we don’t deal with this judge, setting the souls of the women free would be kinda pointless. He’d just find them again, and more.”
“We should be able to vanquish him with his name, right?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What?” Brenna said, pursing her lips.
“Knowing his name would be good enough for summoning him to a séance or maybe clearing him out of a house, but it’s not enough to kill him,” Maggie said casually, as though discussing paint colors.
“What do we need then?” Brenna put down her burger, suddenly devoid of appetite.
“For a force that powerful, we’re going to need him.”
“What do you mean him?”
“His bones.”
“Oh, my Goddess.”
“Don’t worry, Bren. If it’s meant to be, we’ll find them.”
“What if we don’t?”
Maggie finished her burger and shrugged. “We’ll work something out.”
Brenna sighed and hopped into bed. She reached for the lamp to turn it out.
“Bren?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we leave the light on?”
Brenna smiled, remembering no matter how positive Maggie sounded, she’d been through hell.
“Night, Mags.”
“Sweet dreams, Brenna. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Before falling asleep, Brenna had time to wonder whether she would ever have sweet dreams again.
Chapter Sixteen
Darkwoods 1645
Moonlight shone down on the cobbled courtyard where Rowena sat on a park bench with cheeks sticky and damp from crying. She couldn’t stop thinking about the pain Isabel endured. Jonathon came outside with a plate of food and sat down next to her, passing her the plate. “Thanks, but I’m not very hungry.”
“You have to eat, Rowena,” Jonathon said softly. “You’ve hardly eaten
today.”
“Neither have my friends in that nightmare place.” Unable to hide her feelings, she glowered at him.
“If you want to help them you need to eat,” he replied, placing a hand on Rowena’s knee. She took his hand and smiled. Feeling a pulsing around her neck, she pulled the moonstone out of its pouch and held it up in the light, seeing something moving inside. A beam of light shot out of the globe. A beautiful singing radiated from the stone. Fresh tears streamed down Rowena’s cheeks, recognizing Isabel’s delicate singing voice. The moonstone glowed brighter and within the stone, Rowena saw an image form. Isabel’s smiling, unharmed face peered out at her. Rowena hugged the moonstone to her chest and closed her eyes, feeling some of the tension leave her body.
Jonathon placed his arms around Rowena and held her tight. She leaned her head against his shoulder, inhaling a mixture of rosemary and musk. His breath tickled her neck. She lifted her head as he lowered his. Soft lips collided. The accidental kiss lingered a little too long, then they both pulled away, their cheeks reddening.
“Sorry,” they said in unison.
Rowena looked up at the sky and leaned against his chest; he put his arm around her. They sat that way until they both fell asleep.
Rowena woke groggily, rubbing her eyes. Warmth surrounded her, and she realized she was still in Jonathon’s strong arms. He was still sleeping, snoring softly. She stretched her arms trying to ward off the stiffness from sleeping upright. Her bum, which was a tad on the bony side, ached. The sound of approaching horses jolted her to action. “Jonathon! Somebody’s coming!”
“I’m awake,” he murmured.
They both stood up and straightened their clothing as Ronan showed up on a horse, guiding two extras behind him. He eyed Rowena and Jonathon and raised an eyebrow. Brenna blushed. “I notice neither of you made it back to the stead last night,” he said with a wink.
“I can assure you we were both so exhausted we simply fell asleep on this very bench.
Jonathon helped Rowena mount the chestnut mare that had already been saddled for her. She petted the mane, fondly remembering Buttercup. The horses trotted along the path as they headed out of the garden and toward Witch Hill.