Page 74 of Magic Touch
Opening my mind, I push gently into hers. Why have you shut me out?
She shakes her head. "It's not you. I don't feel comfortable sharing thoughts with so many minds lurking about."
Sara Beth returns to her seat. "Are we lurking?" She picks up her cup of tea.
Despite wine being placed on the table, none of the witches indulge in anything stronger than tea.
"You know what I mean," Esme says. "It's odd enough to allow one person into my head." She gives me a soft smile. "I don't want the entire population of witches in Windsor listening in."
"Fair enough." Sara Beth sighs. "I've never had a talent for hearing the thoughts of others. I can sense evil in a person. If someone is extremely good, that too, leaves an echo."
"You never sensed dark magic had taken over Trina?" Esme keeps her voice soft and kind. She isn't making an accusation, only wondering about Trina.
Sara Beth puts her cup down and heaves a long sigh. Fiddling with a small locket around her neck, she says. "She was sent to Kent for some training with their coven. All reports from the high priestess there were very good. She's been training to see auras and decipher their meanings. She brought back a great deal of knowledge, as well as a beautiful assortment of healing oils. I noticed she was unhappy compared to the carefree girl who left six months before, but I didn't sense any evil in her."
"And now?" I ask.
"Whatever has seduced her hides well. I can tell something is off, but not evil or dark magic. Not in the way I've felt it before, at least."
Minerva's eyes are filled with sorrow. "She was a good girl. Lost her mother two years ago. I never dreamed she would turn to darkness.” She heaves a long sigh. “We should give her some food."
With a nod, Sara Beth turns to me, and with a flick of her hand, she opens the cupboard door where I placed Trina before the meal.
I lower the cage and a wave of angry heat pushes from the door.
Trina stalks from the door with empty eyes and her teeth bared. The pale blue dress she wore the day before is wrinkled and skewed oddly. She makes no effort to adjust what must be uncomfortable. "I should have killed you when I had the chance. I waited too long."
Sylvia comes from the kitchen with a plate of food. "Sit and eat. Keep your thoughts to yourself. Your mother is turning in her grave with what you've become."
"My mother was weak and stupid." Trina's gaze falls to the plate. She says nothing more before she sits and eats as if she'd been starving.
It's understandable that she's hungry. She might have eaten earlier if she'd been less violent.
Heart pounding as if something terrible might happen at any moment, I watch her. She's so young, it's a shame to have gone so far astray. "I wonder who seduced you away from the light, Trina."
One by one, witches return to the dining room.
Without looking up, Trina says, "What makes you think seduction was needed?"
"I see auras, too. You were pure honey gold before a dark red covered you. Yet the other still remains. I'm far from an expert, yet I sense another's influence may be the cause. If you were truly evil, your aura would change in full, leaving no trace of the earlier color." Under the table, I brush my fingers along Esme's thigh. I need to know she's there and with me. I'm afraid for Trina. The witches are perfectly nice, but I suspect there is another side to all of this that I'm not going to like.
Esme takes my hand and squeezes it. She looks at Trina. "What happened to you in Kent?"
"I became." Pushing her empty bowl away, Trina sits back and stares blankly at the wall.
I have a dozen questions about what she means, but I hold back.
Sara Beth stands and her navy skirt swirls around her. She fusses with the locket again. "Minerva, wake the great mother from her nap. Sylvia, take Trina to the hall downstairs. We should see this through."
There is no joy or desire in the high priestess's voice. Sara Beth is resigned to what she must do, but she takes no pleasure in the task.
It gives me some peace that I feel no malice from the witches.
Downstairs, ten chairs form the first circle around one chair, where Trina sits. Sara Beth, Prudence, Minerva, Sylvia, Winnie, Mable, Ellen, Ava, Vivian, and Loralie take the first row of seats like jewels in a row.
The outer circle is filled with other witches who have come in support, along with Esme, Henry, Samuel, Anne, and me.
The long room is lit with dozens of candles, and the doors are bolted. The window blinds are drawn against prying eyes.
