Page 39 of Pure Magic
Never having heard the story they’re on about, I have nothing to add.
“It’s a children’s story.” Winnie’s cheeks are red.
Minerva nods. “I know, but that doesn’t mean the story didn’t come from somewhere.”
“I don’t know this story,” William says.
Glad not to be alone, I say, “Neither do I.”
Prudence raises a hand, and the room grows silent. She blinks slowly before settling her gaze on the young witch with long brown hair and light-brown eyes. “Trina, please go to my room and get the book from my dresser.”
Trina jumps up and rushes down the hallway. A minute later, she returns with an old book, its cover worn to gray, and its pages frayed. She hands to book to Prudence.
“Thank you, child.” Prudence opens to a page in the middle of the book marked by a green ribbon then turns the book toward me. “Adam, will you read the tale aloud?”
I do as I’m asked.
EVIL BORN
With three, there is power. With three linked by blood and magic can doom prevail.
Three to take the world.
Three to shadow the light.
Three to crack the veil.
Evil born were the brothers Donnoble. No light shone in their hearts. From birth cursed. Once men, they plotted and planned to take over all the land, and the world of gods as well. No others had ever dared seek power beyond the veil.
From town to village they traveled, leaving destruction in their wake as they gathered knowledge and power to further their plans. Dark magic fed them, and their magic grew greater than any other.
On the third day of the third month in a year of three, they climbed the old tower and made their sacrifice of three, three, three. Blood rushed down the tower’s walls, and the river ran red, then black.
As one, they cast against the veil, and fired rained down upon the land.
The gods fought back but would not join forces, as it was not their way.
When night fell, bodies lay in waste upon the land in every corner. Death was all they knew.
The heavens cried for the loss they did not prevent, and as one, joined their magic to smite down the three.
I close the book, and my stomach is in knots. “You tell this tale to your children?”
Sylvia sighs. “The one my mother told me was not quite as graphic, but it’s a warning that not even Goddess is unbreakable.”
Shaking off the doomsaying of the story, I still don’t understand. “If the tale is true, why is this the only evidence? Where are all the bodies?”
“People tend to explain away what they can’t understand.” Minerva looks me in the eye. “The black plague destroyed much of the population, and there have been other times when death covered the world. Any of those might have been caused by the three brothers.”
It’s all too much to believe, but we have no other ideas.
Sara Beth stands. “Let’s, for a moment, accept that the story is true, and these witches have plans to recreate what the Donnoble brothers attempted. Why does Ariana believe she can succeed where they failed?”
“Goddess is the last who can travel to this world.” Esme stares at the table. “If she doesn’t have the help of those gods who have long been replaced, how can she fight such a force?”
“That doesn’t mean they can’t help, only that they may not,” Jonah says.
I can’t believe I’m buying into this madness. “Even though I can’t fully believe the premise yet, if I do as the high priestess says and accept the story as truth, I have a theory.”
