Page 48 of A Witch-ish Guide to Protectors and Pendulums

“Youthink, Simone? I’ll find us a boat.”

“No.” I threw out my hand to stop him. “I can. I can get us there. Trust me, babe. I can do this.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re going to be the death of me.” Like I hadn’t heard that before. We could consider it Connor’s mantra by this point in our not-so-long relationship. The universe had a sense of humor, that was for sure.

“Nah. I have too many plans for you later on. But I need you to hold on to me—as tightly as you can.”

As asked, he stepped behind me, pressing our bodies together as he wrapped his arms around my waist. He moved my hair off my shoulder with his chin and rested it there.

“Ready, baby,” he whispered. I closed my eyes, chanting the words over and over in my head. Knap of Howar, Orkney. With Connor holding on tight, we moved from the pebbly beach onScottish soil to standing in tall, lush green grass surrounding two stone dwellings without roofs. They looked thousands of years old. Neolithic.

The wind picked up when we stepped inside, a sudden rain event pelting us, and I had to wonder if the site felt our power and was trying to keep us out.

“Now what?” Connor asked.

Because I didn’t know where to speak the words, I stood in the center of the room of the larger dwelling and spoke the words Sirona told me to speak. “Cuir isteach mar chara.”

God, I hoped I pronounced that correctly. Did magic give points for trying? I guessed not since nothing appeared to happen, other than Connor and I getting pummeled by the wind and rain. I took in a big breath and tried again. “Cuir isteach mar chara.”

“What’s supposed to happen?” he asked.

“A staircase is supposed to open up for us, leading down into the archives.”

“Would it open out here where any mortal could see it?”

That got me thinking. Probably not. I tugged Connor along behind me over to the—the best I gathered, it had once served as a connection like a small hallway between the two dwellings. No mortal would see inside unless standing right by the opening.

I spoke the words one more time. “Cuir isteach mar chara.” Then I watched in awe as crumbling rocks dissolved into thin air, revealing an archway with stairs leading down. “Come on. Hold me and stay close,” I ordered my mate. The moment he cleared the archway stepping down onto the first stone step, the entrance closed behind him.

Flames illuminated the steps for each one to come, extinguishing on their own once we’d passed it. Almost a hundred steps down, we entered into a large, stone room that should’ve been wet and dank but felt dry and warm from thepurple flame burning in the hearth, which burned smokeless and I assumed fumeless because I smelled nothing.

The room was set up like a library. Shelves and shelves of books. Beyond the books, we found shelves and shelves of scrolls from the time before books.

“Where do we start?” Connor asked.

“I don’t know. Is there a card catalog?” I laughed at my own stupid joke. “If you find one, we need writings on Lilith.”

Apparently, the room heard me because several books moved forward on their shelves to be plucked up by me or Connor. And in the very back of the section of scrolls, three moved from their spots. I walked back to get those while he grabbed the books for me and we walked them over to the table that rested in front of the hearth.

While the books clearly held some importance, I opted to go for the scrolls, opening what I thought to be the oldest first. I didn’t know how I discerned this; the idea just popped into my head, drawing me to it. Carefully, I unrolled the scroll to reveal a form of writing I was sure had been lost to the world for millennia.

The words began to flame blue, lifting from the pages to arrange themselves in midair, dropping back to the page as I read each one. I knew a dead language. Mind blown. But that wasn’t even the best part. As I continued to read, pictures surrounded Connor and me. The exact pictures the words described.

“Adam is a lie, claiming superiority over me and my children. He brings no power to this land. The fertile garden imbued me with all the magic. Magic I have passed on to my children. With his every attempt to lord over us, I find myself more disdainful of the man and my life with him.”

Wow.

That said so much.

I kept on reading.“My children find comfort with me. None with the man. If he does not leave them be, he will pay for his crimes.”

Connor pulled on my sleeve, pointing to one of the pictures of Adam raising his fist to a boy and the woman from my dream—she pushed in between the boy and Adam, taking the blow to herself instead, but as she slowly stood, recovering, the woman punched Adam back. Clearly, he hadn’t seen it coming, taking a couple of steps back to keep from going down, but she moved in, swiping his legs out from underneath him. I watched in horrified fascination as he hit the ground and his head bounced off the hard, packed dirt. She dropped down, pinning him to the spot with her knee to his neck.

“Hear this, Adam,” she says. “Should you raise another fist to my children, it will be the last thing I ever allow you to do.”

“Connor—that’s her,” I whisper-shrieked.

“Who?”

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