Page 84 of A Bolt of Magic

Lydia’s smile falters slightly at my unexpected calm, but she gestures for her warriors to form an escort around us. As we begin the final descent toward the heart of the coven, I can only pray that when the time comes, I’ll be strong enough to protect the man I’ve come to care for.

It’s too late to back out now.

25

McColl

The cobblestone path winds down into the heart of our settlement, and I can feel eyes on us from every direction. Windows open with soft creaks, doors ease ajar and faces peer out from behind drapes as word spreads through the community like wildfire. McColl Ravencrest has returned. And she’s brought a fae with her.

I am sure that they are more interested in Kian than in me. I mean, a fae within the heart of our coven is unheard of.

I keep my shield firmly in place around Kian, the magic flowing through me with surprising steadiness despite my churning nerves. The familiar cobblestone streets beneath our feet should bring comfort, but instead, they feel like a countdown to whatever awaits us at my mother’s house.

My mother. I wish I didn’t have to face her.

More Children of the Veil quietly join the procession, too, their hoods up, faces concealed.

“McColl?” a tentative voice calls from behind one of the garden gates. “Is that you?”

I turn to see Meredith Ashwood, one of my childhood friends, her curly auburn hair now pinned up instead of wild about her shoulders. Her eyes are wide with disbelief and something that might be joy. She has a baby on her hip.

“Hello, Meredith.” I manage a smile despite the tension coiled in my chest. “It’s good to see you. You’re a mother now,” I state the obvious.

“I am indeed. I married Scott. You remember Scotty?”

I nod. “That’s wonderful, Merry.” I use my nickname for her.

“By the goddess, we thought you were dead.” Tears spring to her eyes. “When you disappeared, your mother said…” She trails off, her gaze shifting nervously to Lydia and the other Children of the Veil surrounding us.

“Let’s move along,” Lydia says, sounding bored.

“I’m very much alive.” I keep my voice gentle. Meredith was always kind to me, even when others whispered about my lack of magical ability or were outright nasty. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get word to anyone. It wasn’t possible. I came straight here as soon as I was able.”

“It is good to see you, McColl. Take care of yourself.” The baby starts to fuss.

“You, too.”

We start walking. More faces stick out in the growing crowd. Some familiar, some changed by the passage of three years. Mrs. Elderwood from the bakery peers through her shop window, flour still dusting her apron. Young Thomas Brightwater, who used to have a crush on me, now sports a beard and the broader shoulders of a man grown. They stare with a mixture of wonder and wariness, their eyes inevitably drawn to the shimmering barrier around us…as well as to Kian.

Children follow at a distance, whispering and pointing, their young faces bright with curiosity.

“Is it true?” calls out Sarah Moon-something-or-the-other, I can’t quite remember. She pushes through the crowd. “Do you really have magic now, McColl? Or is it the fae holding that spell?” Like me, Sarah never had much magical ability, but unlike me, she isn’t the daughter of the most powerful family of witches.

Before I can answer, Lydia’s sharp voice cuts through the murmur of voices. “Keep moving. This isn’t a social gathering. Stand back!”

The crowd falls back, but they continue to follow at a respectful distance as we make our way through the winding streets toward the hill where our family home looks over the whole valley.

The path grows steeper as we climb toward my mother’s house…my house – or at least, it was once. I find myself breathing harder and not from the exertion, but from the weight of what’s coming. Each step brings us closer to the grand stone mansion that has always dominated the hillside with its tall windows. It’s the biggest house on the highest hill, a constant reminder of my mother’s power and high position.

“McColl,” Kian whispers, his voice meant for my ears alone. “You’re trembling.”

I glance down at my hands and realize he’s right. Despite the steady flow of magic through me, my entire body is shaking. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” His beautiful green eyes meet mine, full of understanding. “You’ve got this. We’re going in there together to tackle whatever comes our way.”

I love the sound of that.

His words anchor me, give me something to hold on to as we finally reach my childhood home. The house looms above us, all arches and intricate stonework. Exquisite and yet somehow cold. Not truly a home. More of a shrine.

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