Page 26 of Starlight Witch

“Remember, he was my grandson, not my son. And I lived in Scotland until this year. Occasionally, your father wrote me letters, and once in a while he would call, but we weren’t exactly close. Given the fact that his own father died when he was ten, there wasn’t a strong link. I liked Malcolm’s mother, but Elisa wasn’t the greatest correspondent. She was swamped trying to keep the family going. We did everything we could to help, including paying for Malcolm’s higher education, but it’s a long way from Port Townsend to Scotland.”

I couldn’t ask Elisa, my grandmother, because she had died the same year as my father. The one person who might be able to answer my questions was my mother, but before I opened that can of worms, I needed to think hard.

“Tell me about the Witches’ Guild. Is there a central guild? One that rules all of them?” It struck me how little I knew about my heritage and culture. While I had been instructed in magic, it had been a generic approach, never a central focus. “You said there was a queen of witches when the schism happened between the wolf shifters and the witches. Is there one now?”

“I see we have a lot to go through,” Grams said. “I can give you some general information, but I recommend that you check with some of the local magic academies. Ask if they have any general courses—the history of witchblood, for example. It would be good for you to get a grounded view of your heritage.”

I nodded and pulled out my tablet. I did a quick search for local academies and found that Starlight Hollow actually had an annex to the Greater Grimoire Academy located in Port Townsend. Clicking over to their website, I scanned through the offerings. They offered adult learning classes in addition to a full kindergarten through grade 12 program.

“The Greater Grimoire Academy has a class starting in January on the history of witchery through the ages. It has two sections: political and civil. I think I’ll sign up for that. The political section meets on Wednesday evenings and the civil section meets on Thursday evenings. It’s not expensive. I never even thought to check for something like that.”

“I think you’ll find it helpful. As to the guilds, every guild is independent, but there are guidelines that all are required to follow to be included in the official registry.”

Grams paused, then asked, “Do you even know the official websites for the royal family?” But before I could answer, she let out a sigh. “Of course, the answer is no. How would you? You didn’t even know that we have a queen. I swear, parents need to do a better job of educating their children. You can find out which guilds are officially sanctioned on that website.” She gave me the URL and I quickly typed it in.

Sure enough, the website for the nobility of witchblood came up. I bookmarked it for further reference, then poked around until I found the section for witches’ guilds. I typed in the zip code for Port Townsend, and the reference came up.

The Port Townsend Witches’ Guild lost its official sanction in 1985, when they enacted several rules going against the general code of conduct established by the royal family. They were given one year to make the changes, but when no steps were taken, they were officially dropped from the registrar. Periodically, the court has contacted them, but each time the investigation has shown no progress. Therefore, the Port Townsend Witches’ Guild has no official standing within the court.

“Well, obviously something went wrong,” I said.

“It’s generally some form of corruption. There are codes for proper behavior in order to be officially recognized. Anyone found to have broken those codes will be expunged from the records upon an investigation. That goes for both individuals and organizations.”

I found the search for the individual members and typed in my name. It appeared with the words in good standing after my name. Out of curiosity, I typed in my father’s name. Much to my surprise, his entry came up with the word expelled and a date emblazoned in fiery red.

“So my father was expelled from the rolls?” I looked up my mother. It indicated she was still in good standing, as was my aunt Ciara. A quick look for my cousin Owen and I saw the word deceased and his status. “I see they keep these up to date.”

I didn’t know why I was so surprised. While I hadn’t realized anybody was keeping tabs on me, given what the government itself did in terms of clandestine surveillance, it made sense. I had a lot to relearn and to think about.

“I suggest that you not contact the Port Townsend Witches’ Guild while we’re up there,” Grams warned. “When you have too much to do with an organization that is out of favor with the Crown, word gets around quickly. There are eyes everywhere. As to your father’s financial status, he couldn’t have been hurting all that badly, given the amount of your trust fund.”

I shrugged. “I’m not so sure. In the diary he mentioned he had wrapped my trust up in an ironclad contract. Maybe he couldn’t touch the money, even if he needed it. And now I feel guilty because what if that’s what killed him? Having his trust fund has been a goddess-send, but what if it came at the cost of his life?”

Grams leaned over, placing her hand on mine. “Don’t go there. Don’t even let that cross your mind. You are not to blame for his death. You did nothing to cause it. He made that choice, and in doing so he assured your future would be secure. In the end, that’s what matters. He loved you, and he wanted you to make a good start.”

I nodded, deep in thought. “He did love me. If nothing else, reading through this journal has shown me how much he cared about me. He did whatever he could to try and protect me from whoever it was coming after him.”

Grams gave a decisive nod. “Good. That’s the way a MacPherson should behave.”

“All right. I won’t dwell on it. But there are so many questions I want answers for.” I silently helped Grams clear the table, steeped in the mystery that had surrounded my father.

I was about to text good night to Bran when a text came in from him.

i wanted to tell you good night. i had a long day, and tomorrow’s going to be longer. since we’ll be going to your mother’s for thanksgiving, i’m spending the first few days of this week getting as much done as we can on the barn. But i wanted to let you know that i contacted Kyle and i’m supposed to meet with him tomorrow morning for breakfast. i’ll let you know how things go. good night and i love you.

A million responses raced through my mind, but I just texted, i love you too. let me know what he says.

I crawled into bed. As Gem settled on my pillow, and Silver sprawled across the bottom of my bed, I fell into a deep but troubled sleep, and in my dreams I kept seeing hidden figures lurking around the house, and I saw my father standing in the spotlight, his arms crossed over his chest with his eyes closed.

Come Monday, I woke nervous, so nervous that I made myself a quad-shot mocha before heading to the gym. This morning, Bran was supposed to talk to Kyle, and I hoped that he kept his temper. The last thing we needed was for them to get into it and beat each other senseless.

At the gym, Jon, my trainer, was waiting for me. He put me through my paces. Today included weight training and—for cardio—swimming. I always used a swim cap because chlorine wasn’t kind to red hair. Actually, it wasn’t kind to anyone’s hair or skin. As I pulled myself out of the water, having swum eight laps in the pool, Jon knelt beside me, helping me out and handing me a bath sheet to wrap around my shoulders.

“You’re coming along,” he said. “I can see the muscle definition better, and you’ve definitely upped your ability on the weight machines. I’m thinking in a few months you might want to start adding some martial arts to your workouts. Maybe two classes per week?”

I groaned. “Wednesday and Thursday nights are out. I’ve signed up for an adult education class from the Greater Grimoire Academy. What kind of martial arts?”

“I was thinking judo. I think you have the ability for it,” Jon said. He escorted me over to the bench, where we sat down. “So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

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