Page 26 of Soul of a Witch

“Quite. But I’ve found death to be a very fitting end to life. It’s peaceful. I can keep to myself and do as I please, and none of the living are any wiser to it. It’s a fantastic opportunity to study.”

A dozen questions sprang to my mind, swiftly followed by a dozen more. “You’re a ghost?”

“I refer to myself as a hag who’s finally shed her mortal skin,” she said, and Callum scoffed behind me.

“She’s a ghost,” he said. “Her body lies in the crypt nearby, along with many generations of your family.”

“Consider yourself quite lucky you aren’t a diviner,” she said. “Or a demon, for that matter! Callum can hear me all the time, not just through the radio. He’s lucky I’m the only talkative one rotting down there.”

“I’ve been listening to her squawking for years,” he said with a heavy sigh.

It was in disbelief. I’d encountered ghosts before, of course. Mama had taught me to be aware of them so I wouldn’t be afraid if I saw or heard one. Most ghosts were simply lonely, or a little confused. A few kind words would usually send them on their way.

But this was the ghost ofmy grandmother. The grandmother I’d thought I would never be able to know. As a child, I’d dreamed of her coming to whisk me away, delivering me from a life surrounded by fear and secrecy. In my childish mind, she’d been the greatest witch in the whole world, a master of magic. Wise, kind, and full of knowledge.

“Callum, my dear monstrous demon, I must ask that you leave us for a while,” Winona said. “I have important matters to discuss with my granddaughter, and I’m afraid you’re simply too distracting for her.”

Although I refused to turn my head, I could see Callum smirk in my peripheral vision before he stepped back. “As you wish. I’ll be close by.”

He stalked away, disappearing amid the greenery. Once his footsteps were out of my earshot, I said softly, “It’s all true then? This house…” I hardly dared to say it. “This house belongs to our family?”

“TheLavernefamily,” she said firmly. “The family of your mother. This place has housed witches within its walls for over a hundred years. Witches from many religions, many cultures, many countries, once gathered here in unity. And now, at last, it shall house a witch again. As for the demon, you don’t need to fear him, my dear. I can tell you that with complete certainty.” Her voice was calmer now, but she still gave a gentle laugh. “That handsome creature wouldn’t harm you even if it cost him his own life. It’s all true. This house is your birthright, and all the wisdom and magic within is yours to inherit.”

My disbelief finally caved to stunned acceptance.

This place, and everything within its walls, was mine.

Everything.

Never in my life had anything truly been mine. Everything came with strings attached, and my father could pull those strings whenever he wished. The very thought that this beautiful, mysterious, magical place could truly belong to me made my chest swell with so much emotion that I couldn’t speak.

“I know it’s been a very long time, Everly,” my grandmother said, her voice infused with static for a moment. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more for you in life. I tried to reach you. I truly hoped I could save you from that wretched, pompous, self-absorbed prick of a father your mother saddled you with.” She sighed heavily. “Your mother was a lovesick fool for Kent. She truly believed there was goodness in him, and by the time she realized otherwise, it was too late. He manipulated her in every way he possibly could. But I know she loved you dearly.”

Despite my efforts to remain stoic, my eyes stung with tears. “Do you know that she…”

“I felt her life pass on from this world,” she said. “I had hoped her spirit might return to the house, but her soul was tired, so burdened with grief. She had no desire to stay. At least, now, her soul is at rest.”

We sat there in silence for several long moments. Mourning a mother, a daughter. A life ended with tragedy; a legacy stained with wickedness.

“She helped them sacrifice a fifteen-year-old girl,” I said. The words came out choked with pain and shaking with anger. I’d never spoken them aloud. I’d never heard anyone say it. The simple truth. My love for my mother was wrapped in thorns, crushed by the weight of what she’d done.

I’d watched my kind, gentle, patient mother hold down a teenage girl as she screamed in pain.

Grandma remained silent, but I got the sense she was listening. There was a coolness in the air, swirling gently around me like arms embracing me.

“The girl got away,” I said. “We threw her down into the mine, but Mama went back for her. She shielded the girl with magic and told her to run. She tried to tell me. She tried to warn me.”

My throat swelled. I could scarcely get the words out without sobbing. After Mama’s death, when I’d held her letter and read it for the first time, my entire world ground to a halt.

My mother couldn’t live with the pain she’d caused. She couldn’t forgive herself.

“The girl’s name was Juniper Kynes,” I said, sniffling, as I plucked at the loose threads on my blouse. “We convinced the entire town she was crazy. We destroyed her life. She lost everything.” Taking a deep breath, I forced my voice to steady. “Do you know how it works? Our —” I stopped myself before I misspoke. “My father’s faith. Do you know what he believes?”

“I do,” she said grimly. “The Laverne witches have been aware of the Libiri’s activities since the cult’s inception. When the God awakened, we knew. We were researching how to keep It contained. But as the Libiri’s influence grew, so did the God’s strength. One by one, the witches who once comprised this coven were killed. Others fled in fear. Others simply grew old and croaked.” She gave another bitter laugh. “I did all I could before death came for me, and it would seem it’s paid off. Because here you are at last. Back home, where you belong.”

She couldn’t have known the impact those words would have. “Home” was such a fraught concept for me. The home I’d known my whole life — the house I lived in with my father, step-mother, and siblings — had never been a comforting place, a safe place. It was an arena, or a stage: a place where I had to walk, talk, and act with care, constantly afraid of doing something wrong. I’d only been allowed to visit Mama’s apartment on weekends, but even there, I didn’t truly feel safe.

The God was always watching, always whispering. Only since I’d stepped foot in this house had the perpetual sense of being stalked finally vanished.

---