Page 11 of Wind and Water
Barely hearing her confession of another kind of magic, I cover her hand with mine. “I thought it was only me.”
She shakes her head. “What does this witch look like?”
I shudder. “Venora is tall and has black hair. Her eyes were hazel, but evil has turned them mostly black. I think she must have been beautiful once, but now black magic has turned her features harsh.”
“I’ve seen your witch queen in my dreams.”
“What?” It comes out much louder than I planned, but I’m taken completely by surprise.
Wren’s eyes widen, and I see the change from concern about the magic she holds and anger because I raised my voice. Fire returns to her face, and she crosses her arms. “Don’t you shout at me. I’m not one of your servants, Prince Liam.”
Birdie opens the bedroom door and blinks at us. She has an eye mask pushed up so that her normally orderly short curls are standing straight up on the top. “What’s all the hollering about?”
“I’m going to bed.” Wren turns, but her mother stands in the doorway, blocking her path.
Torn between letting her go and finding out about these dreams, I opt for my duty. “You cannot tell me that you’ve dreamed of the witch queen and then go to bed without explaining, Wren. I’m sorry for yelling, but your declaration took me by surprise.”
“Goodness gracious, Wren darlin’, why didn’t you say something?” Birdie takes her hand and walks her to the small table that serves as a dining room. “Put a shirt on, Liam. I’m old, but even I’m distracted by all that.” She waves a hand in the general direction of my upper body.
“I don’t know why I didn’t say. First, I didn’t make the connection between my dreams and Liam’s world. I’ve been seeing her in my sleep for months.” She stares at her hands on the table. “Two days ago, Liam told you about the witch queen and her evil, and that night I saw her in my dreams. That’s when I knew it was her and not something out of my imagination.”
I do as I’m told and then join them at the table. Forcing down my urgency, I ask, “What did you dream?”
She shakes her head. “It’s hard to explain. I was far away, or she was above on a butte. It was a dream, so things weren’t clear. She had long black hair and pointed ears like yours. Her eyes were black like one of those creepy dolls. Her black gown looked expensive but tattered, and she wore a cape with a red lining. She screamed words I didn’t understand and shot black lightning from her fingers. The wind whipped around me and lifted her off the butte. Her lightning went in all directions but hit my chest, and I woke up from the pain of it.” Breathing hard, she presses both hands to her chest.
My heart pounds. The description is too close to reality to be a coincidence when, aside from a few moments ago, I’m certain I never described Venora to either Birdie or Wren. “What is a butte?”
“It’s a rock formation, an isolated peak, with steep sides, and a flat top juts from the lower lands.” Birdie speaks like a teacher, which I already know was her profession for many years before she retired.
“Is there a place like that in your world?” Wren’s eyes plead for me to deny it.
“We have flat-topped hills. We call them table-topped. Where did the wind come from?” I’ve never seen a natural wind that could lift someone as Wren described.
Pale and miserable, she shakes her head.
Birdie combs Wren’s hair back from her face. “What is it, baby?”
Her voice is soft, scared. “I think it came from me.”
Magic again, but this only in a dream or vision. Forcing a smile, I say, “Visions are funny things. They don’t always come to pass. The future is unpredictable.”
“Liam is right. Not everything you dream happens. You should rest now. We’ll go to bed, and all you’ll have is sweet dreams tonight.” Birdie wraps an arm around Wren, and they walk to the bedroom.
“Wren.” I stand. When she turns back, my heart is in my throat. She’s so perfect. “Let me be clear, I would never shout at the people who work for my parents. I’m hardly a model son for a queen, but I’m not a monster.”
There’s a hint of a smile. “I know.”
Chapter Three
Wren
Why did I tell him that I want him? Sometimes my mouth outruns all good sense. I’ve known Liam for eight days, and suddenly I’m considering going with him to some portal into another world with elves and dragons.
“You’re angry,” Liam says while we wait for Momma to get our tickets to the distillery tour.
“Not angry, no. I’m embarrassed and scared. I don’t know what made me behave as I did last night. I hardly know you.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I say something else better kept to myself.
“You have nothing to be uneasy about. As you said, sometimes people need to be held.” He has the most beautiful lips, and when they hint at a smile, he’s stunningly handsome. In fact, several women stare as they walk by our bench in the park across the street from the ticket office.
