Page 10 of Starlight Witch

As I gave her a hug, she whispered, “Seriously, talk to Bran. It will ease your mind and his.”

“I know,” I said. “I will.”

I walked her out to her car and glanced at the sky. It was cold and crisp, with partial cloud cover. The tree boughs were barren. We weren’t due for snow, not yet, but the wind felt restless, and beyond it, I could sense winter waiting in the wings.

CHAPTER FOUR

After cleaning the house, Grams and I headed out to meet Randy at the new house. I poked around the old ranch house, but it was well made from what I could see, and updated nicely. It would be perfect for Grams, and it was on a tidy lot that wasn’t too big. There was plenty of room for a kitchen garden, an herb garden, and yet it wouldn’t require more than a light mowing. The house needed new paint, in and out. Grams was like me—she detested beige and the entire house was beige—but that could be changed. The kitchen was fully updated, the inspector was coming the next morning, and, in my gut, I knew that this was where Grams would be settling.

“This is wonderful,” I said, poking around. “I think it’s going to be a good place for you.” But my mind wandered. “Do you mind if I go home? I want to look at the journal again.” I both wanted to take my mind off Faron and, at the same time, read more of my father’s diary.

“Of course. So, do you approve?” Grams gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“I approve, heartily. This is a lovely house, and you’re right, it’s close to me. Okay, I’ll see you later. I’ll walk. We’re only five blocks away.” I glanced out at the sky. “It’s not going to rain for a while, so I should make it home before the storm breaks.”

I headed out, grateful that there was a sidewalk, even though it was overgrown and broken, and I set out at a brisk pace. I was wearing my leather jacket and a muffler around my neck, and I found a pair of gloves in my pocket.

The neighborhood I lived in was just outside the boundaries of the city limits. Grams’s neighborhood was just inside. While the houses in the area were older, the owners kept them in good shape. Most of them were single-story ramblers and ranch houses, with a few two-story homes tucked into pockets, usually newer builds. Starlight Hollow had city rules against dense development, so they couldn’t do what was happening all over western Washington—short platting multiple houses on small lots.

As I dashed across the street, the clouds darkened and a flash illuminated the air. I slowed, counting to four before a rumble of thunder rolled through. The storm was four miles away. I was near my driveway, and began to sprint as the clouds opened and fat raindrops splashed down. I wrapped my scarf over my head and ran faster.

Another flash, another clap—closer—and the rain started to pound, stinging me as it bit into my exposed skin. I darted up the steps and ducked into the enclosed patio, shivering. I loved my leather, but it wasn’t waterproof. Darting up the steps, I fumbled for my key and then let myself in. I kicked off my shoes and then set them out on the porch to dry.

After shrugging off my jacket and hanging it up, I closed the door behind me, peeled off my pants, and headed toward my bedroom. My legs were clammy, the leather pants were damp, and I decided that I’d change into a long skirt and a warm tank. After changing, I brushed out my hair and fixed my makeup.

Fancypants flew into the bedroom with me and he sat on the bed, watching as I changed clothes. I’d gotten over feeling awkward around him. He was a dragonette. I was a witch. There was no weirdness there.

“How was the house?” he asked.

“Perfect, damn it. I told her to buy it.” I wrinkled my nose. “I wish she could stay here?—”

“She’ll be right down the street, won’t she?”

I nodded. “It’s within walking distance, so that’s cool.”

A huge thunderbolt shook the house.

“Yikes, that’s too close for comfort. I’m glad I’m inside now. Hold on, I’ll be right back.” I retrieved my father’s journal from the living room and, after grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, returned to the bedroom and stretched out on my stomach, propping myself up with a few pillows. I set the journal in front of me.

“What’s that?” Fancypants settled down near me, staring at the journal. Gem and Silver came bouncing into the room and up on the bed to curl by my feet. They hated thunderstorms and we always cuddled when thunder rattled the house. Luckily, we didn’t have many lightning storms, though fireworks triggered the same fear in them.

“My father’s diary. He kept it the last four months of his life. My aunt found it and sent it to me. I’m not telling my mother.” I opened it, flipping past the entry I had read. The next one was written two days later—April 9, 1996.

Elf is growing so fast. I love her with all my heart. I’m worried that Catharine isn’t taking to motherhood like I hoped she would. I take care of Elf’s needs most of the time, and I don’t mind doing so, but I have to work to pay the bills. Catharine keeps complaining about feeling stifled, but I reminded her, she made the choice to be a mother. I didn’t force it on her.

Today I went into the secret room again. I tried to stay away, to keep it locked. But I couldn’t help myself. Once again, Neylan offered me the chance to make it big. It would be so easy to turn my back on my ethics. And I have the perfect position for it. But I can’t do that to my clients. And I can’t scam them out of their money. I can’t give up my autonomy for the chance to be rich and famous. But each time, it’s harder to say no, and it’s harder to avoid visiting. But Neylan’s getting pushy. I’m running out of time. If I don’t agree, he’ll force me and then I’ll lose who I am, and my family will be in trouble.

I’ve done all the warding I can, and I’ve talked to Drew, who knows everything, in case something happens to me. I’ve hidden a letter for Catharine, but whether she’ll find it or not, I don’t know. But I can’t leave it out where anybody can find it. So, I’m doing the only thing I can—I’m leaving it in my favorite place, and I hope it’s found, if it comes to that. My biggest hope is that, twenty years from now, I’ll be able to tell everyone about it and it will all be over and done with. Obviously, I’m being vague here, given that what I know could put others in danger if they found out and I’ll never do that. Hell, why did I ever get involved?

Drew…I had no idea who that was. I peeked at the next page, but the entry was—to my surprise—a picture of me when I was three, and a heart drawn around it.

“He must have really loved you,” Fancypants said. He was learning to read. Two weeks ago, he learned to read English and French. Last week, he learned German and Spanish. This week, he was studying Spanish. I had no clue what to say about his proficiency, except to rejoice that I had my own personal translator. Dragons were apparently brilliant.

“I guess he did,” I said. “My mother never told me how he felt about me. She never says much about him at all. She was traumatized finding his body, and she…it was like the moment the funeral was over, she stopped talking about him. At times, it felt as though he had never existed and that I dreamed him up.” I set the journal to the side. “I want to read the rest, but I’m finding it hard to make myself open the book.”

“Why? What are you afraid of?” Fancypants asked.

“I think… I think I’m afraid that I’ll find out he was a rotten man. He was wrapped up in something that frightened him. I have no idea what, but it sounds like somebody was trying to force him to rat out his clients—or do something to them. He was on the Port Townsend Witches’ Council. Grams mentioned that they hushed up his death.” I rolled over on my back and bent my right knee, then crossed my left ankle across it.

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