Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Ignoring her, Emberlyn didn’t walk to the steps, she paused halfway up the path. She sent out just a few ribbons of magick; watching as the glittering dust drifted toward the manor and then gently brushed over the translucent defensive barrier. An offering. A gift. An introduction.
The sentient power studied hers, tasted it and she felt the click of recognition. It remembered her magick. Remembered her.
It didn’t reject her offering, which she took as a very good sign. She walked a little closer, chanting as she let her magick roll out in a rush of more glittering dust. That dust became thousands of moths – some black, some silver, some dark teal.
Wings fluttered as they streamed toward the manor, parting to surround the defensive barrier. Not attack it, not intimidate it, tempt it with the promise of more power.
Sentient magick was like a predatory pack animal – it could do just fine on its own, but it knew there was strength in numbers and preferred to not be solitary. Emberlyn was giving it a promise of power, of protection, of a partnership.
She kept on chanting, and the moths swirled around the mansion uber-fast – some clockwise, some anticlockwise. Inside the insect-tornado, electricity buzzed.
Then the defensive power reached outwards and clashed into her magick. Welcomed it. Connected to it.
She closed her fists, ending the chant. The moths rose above the manor and then disappeared down chimneys.
Inside the house, lights switched on and off, curtains flapped and the stained-glass windows seemed to bulge outward.
Then the magick settled, and one of the front doors slowly swung open in invitation.
Delight curled Emberlyn’s lips, and she metaphorically rubbed her hands in glee.
She heard a distinct feminine curse come from far behind her. Reena. Ha.
‘Why?’ asked Dez. ‘Why didn’t it attack you?’
Easy. ‘I wasn’t rude,’ she replied, facing him.
He stared at her numbly. ‘Rude?’
Emberlyn swept her gaze over her family. ‘You came with no offer of goodwill. You weren’t respectful of the manor’s boundaries. You didn’t politely introduce yourself. You just boldly tried to take. And bashing the barrier was pure bad form.’ She cocked her head. ‘Do you know nothing about sentient-magick etiquette?’
Emberlyn looked at the twins, who both wore huge grins, and gestured for them to follow as she advanced up the path.
‘What do you mean, an offer of goodwill?’ Gill called out. ‘What did you give it?’
Halting halfway up the porch stairs, Emberlyn peered down at her. ‘Power, no strings attached.’
Gill’s eyes narrowed. ‘You manipulated the manor into accepting you?’
‘It wasn’t manipulation, it was common decency,’ Emberlyn corrected. ‘You all threw yourselves at the spell not only physically but magickly. Which is a lot like trying to kick down a person’s front door. And yet, you expected entry; intended to claim ownership of the place. You can’t own sentient magick. Really, you should know this stuff.’
Snickering, Paisley scurried past her and into the manor with her brother in tow.
Emberlyn was about to follow them, but Gill notched up her chin and said, ‘There was no need for courteousness on our part. We’re Vautier witches. The manor belongs to our line. It is our right to take it.’
‘The manor won’t accept a Vautier witch just because of their ancestry.’ Emberlyn looked at Reena, who, her face pinched, her hands fisted, her body wooden, stared back at her. ‘Let me be clear that I won’t be relinquishing it to you. It’s my home now. I intend to keep it that way.’
Reena’s eyelids lowered. ‘It should not have chosen you; should not have skipped a generation.’
‘This manor is deserving of someone with status,’ Ward declared. ‘A High Priestess, just like Lilith.’
‘You did something other than give it a gift,’ Ames accused.
Emberlyn smiled. ‘Oh, you mean the part where I promised it my first born?’
Gasps sounded.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Kidding, kidding. I didn’t need to do anything else. The manor could have rejected my offering. Or kept it but rejected me. It did neither. But that’s not because I did anything dark.’
‘I will not stand for this,’ Gill bit off, magick crackling around her hands.
Oh, she thought to take Emberlyn on? Novel.
‘You’ve got this, Mom,’ said Mari. ‘Those on the benevolent path always win.’
The benevolent path? Dear Lord.
Reena strode forward. ‘Stand aside, Gill. I will deal with this.’
Emberlyn couldn’t help but smile. ‘You want to come at me? Really?’ Laughing, she whipped up her arm and shot a stream of magick high. A black cloud ominously roiled in the sky like a swirling dark bruise. A lightning fork stabbed downward, sharp and bright.
With curses and alarmed squeaks, the other witches backpedaled.
Thunder boomed, loud and aggressive. A wind rapidly built up, whipping the willow branches back and forth, making her dress flap and her hair flutter.
Then Emberlyn brought her arm back down, and it all stopped. She waited a few seconds before speaking. ‘You’re strong, Reena, but trying to “deal with this” won’t end well for you.’