Cinderveiled Magic: White Haven Witches Book 14 EBOOK PRE-ORDER (RELEASED 11TH DECEMBER)

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One
There was a chill breeze blowing in from the sea, but Helena ignored it, too entranced with the mid-week Beltane procession that wound down to the harbour and the beach beyond.

White Haven, as usual at these seasonal celebrations, was packed with visitors who had come to enjoy the spectacle and immerse themselves in the magic of the celebrations, and it was certainly magical. There was a sense of anticipation, as if something unusual might happen. Helena sincerely hoped nothing would. These processions had a way of gathering all of the magic in White Haven and amplifying it.

The participants of the parade were a mix of ages, and all wore fancy dress with painted faces or masks depicting dryads, nature spirits, and animals. At the head of the parade were the May Queen and her consort, the Green Man, regal and imposing as they led the procession of jugglers and drummers to the bonfire on the beach.

It reminded Helena of when they had dressed up at Yule. She had loved every second of it, apart from the murderous Winter Queen and Jack Frost, of course. But participating in the parade had been wonderful, the energy infectious. It had empowered her, reinforcing her need to be in White Haven more often. Avery, who was watching with her, thought she understood, but she didn’t. Not really. How could she? She was of this time, with mobile phones, computers, trains, planes, and electricity, but this was Helena’s second lease on life, five centuries after the first one, and she wanted it all.

“I never tire of seeing this,” Helena said to Avery, in her guise as Clea, Avery’s gran. “It was a shame we couldn’t do such a thing in my lifetime.”

“At least you get to see it now. Although, as I do recall, you led the All Hallows’ parade well enough as a ghost,” she said, casting Helena a sideways glance.

“Ah, yes. That.” She smirked at the memory. Even as a spirit, it was invigorating to lead the procession. “It was lots of fun. All those shocked faces! As I recall, it was very helpful to you!”

“Your participation raised lots of questions.”

It was the start of the real awakening of White Haven’s magic, Helena realised. Finding the grimoires and releasing their trapped ancestral magic had been one thing, but the events that followed had exacerbated everything. As a spirit lurking on the sidelines, she had seen it unfold. A period of almost two years in which Avery’s life had changed completely.

“I’m cold,” Avery said, shivering as the last of the procession passed and the crowd straggled behind them. “I’m heading back home to look at those spells again. There’s still time before I need to meet Alex in the pub.”

“You want to cast one tonight, don’t you?” Helena asked, eyes fixed on Avery, who shuffled as if evading the question.

“I just need to see them again.”

“You’re obsessed. It isn’t healthy.”

“I’m interested in our family spells. There’s nothing unhealthy about that,” Avery said, temper clearly rising.

Helena knew that Alex was as perplexed as she was about Avery’s obsessive interest in the dragon spells in the early part of her family grimoire. Perhaps she would be, too, if she had seen the dragon and the dragon eggs.

Avery stepped closer to Helena, raising her voice to be heard above the crowd of revellers, and repeated her earlier argument. “The spell we cast to release Morwenna from her curse was incredible. Spells using dragon-based ingredients are ripe with potential. I can’t believe you’re not more interested, or in fact, haven’t researched them before.”

“I was busy surviving—and failing—in what was an increasingly fraught time. And I had children.” Children she never saw reach adulthood. Children she was never able to teach magic. Her tone was harsher than she’d intended, and guilt flashed behind Avery’s eyes.

“Sorry,” Avery said. “That was thoughtless. But things are different now, and I’m fascinated. Especially at this time! This is a fire festival, and Beltane’s energy is all around us. This is the perfect time to cast at least one of those spells. I honestly thought you would have insights. Aren’t you even the tiniest bit interested?”

“Of course I am, but this is the Beltane parade! I can’t believe Alex is in the bloody pub! At least the rest of the coven is around here somewhere.” Briar was watching with her grandmother, Tamsyn, her cousin, Rosa, and the two children. Reu and El were already down on the beach with Stan.

“To be honest,” Avery said, pulling her coat around her, “he has seen so many parades that we really don’t feel we need to see them all anymore. Plus, the pub will be busy, so it makes sense that he’s there.” Of course, they had also honoured the event with the Cornwall Coven at Rasmus’s house, so the rest of the coven considered the parade in White Haven a bonus. “I’ll head down to the beach later, though. A few libations won’t go amiss,” she said, laughing.

Helena sighed, resigned. She didn’t want to continue on her own, and Clea’s old friends were avoiding the crowds. Her friends, she reminded herself. “All right. Let’s head home and get out of this chill. I can see you won’t drop this, and I want to make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

Avery bristled at the insult. “I’m not a child, and just to remind you, I have researched endlessly!”

“I know. We are swimming in dragon books.” So much so that Helena had been dreaming of dragons, wyverns, draca, and wyrms, all looking like the gilded illustrations in one of the books.

“And I am virtually the same age as you, so don’t give me that grandma tone.”

“I am your grandmother,” Helena pointed out, “plus several ‘greats’ too, so I can’t help it.” Although, she certainly didn’t feel it.

Avery poked her tongue out in a childish gesture that made Helena giggle, and led the way through the square that was dominated by the enormous, beribboned maypole, and up the hill to their flat. Helena was glad to get out of the wind that was distinctly chillier the higher up they went. So much for May heralding warmer weather.

White Haven had been dressed for Beltane, and the streets were lined with pots of spring flowers and hanging baskets, courtesy of Greenlane Nursery, and the shop fronts were decorated equally as energetically. It was comforting to know their traditions continued, and it fed the town’s magic, too.

Fortunately, the house was warm, and Circe and Medea wound around her ankles. She petted them absently as Avery headed to the attic, and Helena to the kitchen for wine. Avery was intent on casting a spell that night, and Helena had every intention of finding out why. Something significant was motivating her, but she had no idea what. Neither did Alex, she’d discovered after a furtive conversation. When she reached the attic a few minutes later, she found Avery already settled at the table, attention turned to the open grimoire, candles and the fire alight, and the glint of a stored-up argument in her eyes.

Helena prepared herself. “Avery, I’m not sure we should be casting any of these yet. I feel there are hidden meanings in them that we don’t understand.”

“I know, but they have so much untapped potential,” Avery said, lips twisting with frustration. “I hate being defeated.”

“Consider it the thrill of the chase.”

“We’ve chased enough. This is the time for action.”

“Action for what purpose? These are transformational spells. What are we transforming?”

Avery shuffled in her seat and averted her eyes, fiddling with the grimoire instead. “I just find them interesting.”

“Interesting my arse! Of course they’re bloody interesting, but that’s no reason to go charging in. I smell bullshit.” Helena leaned her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers under her chin, fixing Avery with her most grandmotherly stare. “Something is bothering you. You’ve had my grimoire for almost two years, and have used it and cast spells from it, but always with good cause. Now that you have discovered these dragon-based spells, it’s like you’ve gone off tangent!”

Avery protested. “Not off tangent. I’m investigating and researching. It’s what I do. I’m book obsessed. Something you are, too. And I’m talking to Clea, who’s lurking back there. Maybe you, too, Helena. Plus, you are a witch, and like me, enjoy expanding your magic and spell repertoire. This is all this is.”

Helena adjusted her approach and softened her tone. Avery was hiding something, and she needed to know what. “I feel I know you well now. You have a firecracker temper, but you are not stupidly impulsive. I have Clea’s memories, too, remember. You are thoughtful, clever, inventive, and deeply intuitive. Clea loves all of those qualities, you know.”

“Does she? I didn’t know.” Her combative tone vanished. “I think I have some of those qualities from her. She was always so calm and thoughtful, and her spellwork was precise. She taught me so much, more than my mother ever did,” she said regretfully, eyes dropping to the grimoire again.

“She misses the conversations you used to have. With her daughter, Diana, and your sister, too. She regrets the important conversations she can’t have anymore. Her thoughts aren’t rational, you understand,” Helena hurriedly added. “I don’t want you to think they are. They’re muddled. I sense them faintly in the background, but I push them aside. I try not to access her memories, either. It would be rude. But there’s always a rush of love every time she sees you. You remind her of your mother, too.”

“Do I?” Avery looked genuinely surprised. “But we’re nothing alike.”

“Maybe nothing you see, but Clea does.”

Avery sipped her wine, as if steadying herself. “I still don’t understand how you can function so well in her body.”

“Her brain is quite capable of running her body. It’s just her memories. My own memories, plus my magic, override that. She doesn’t struggle. I don’t think she’s aware, most of the time.”

“But I found you suffocating.”

“Because you were younger and certainly more aware than your grandmother. You can’t compare the two. She has consented,” she reminded Avery.

Helena now felt guilty for trying to steal Avery’s body when they were under All Souls’ Church. Giddy with being seen, she was desperate for more, but she should never have tried that. Not with her own descendant. Helena had been jealous of Avery, an ugly admission, but true. Inhabiting Clea’s body was better, even though she was old. But she wanted more, if she could only work out a way to do it.

“I know.” Avery sighed as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. “I still feel guilty about it, even though I love seeing her here, and you. It’s…odd. But you have her memories, even though you respect her privacy. Does she know why my mother really left? Or Bryony?”

Helena frowned as she reached for her own drink. “I thought you knew, although, you never really talk about it.” Actually, she never discussed it at all. “Or your father.”

“Oh, him!” Avery huffed. “When he discovered my mother was a witch, he left and we never saw him again. I was a baby, and Bryony a toddler. What a bastard.”

“I guessed he’d left, but I didn’t know you were so young. Have you seen him since?”

“No, and my mother never mentioned him, except when I asked. And then she left, too. We discovered when we started looking for our missing grimoires that many of our ancestors didn’t stay in White Haven. Reu’s did, obviously, but the others left. You never mention them,” Avery said, a bite of criticism to her tone. “You know—Thadeus, and Imogen, Alex’s ancestor. Plus the other three. I forget their names.”

“I know who Imogen was, Avery. She was my best friend. As for Thadeus, he was a lying creep who I loved. That was a severe lack of judgment on my behalf, and youth was no excuse. The others were all wonderful people. None of us—myself included—deserved what happened to us. You have no idea of the fear we lived with.”

Helena could feel it now. Beltane magic was swirling. Beltane wasn’t just about passion; it was a time when the veils were thinning again. Were the ancestors stepping closer? And then she thought she might have an inkling about Avery’s research. El had been dealing with her own issues about her estranged parents. Had this brought something up with Avery? She knew she’d been supporting El.

“Avery, have you found a spell to transform feelings? Emotions? Desires, even? Is this need to cast a dragon-based spell about your mother? Your family?”

Unexpectedly, tears welled in Avery’s eyes. “It might be.”

Helena reached forward and clasped her hand, Clea’s concerns mixing with her own. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you had been mulling on this. Just be honest and tell me what you want.”

“They both left when I was sixteen. Sixteen! Said they couldn’t bear to be in White Haven anymore. My sister left only months after my mother. What is that about? Was it White Haven, or was it me?” Avery was flustered now, her colour rising.

“Of course it wasn’t you! Why would it be?”

“Because I don’t hear from them at all! Leaving White Haven is one thing, but why aren’t they in touch? They don’t even see Clea!” A gust of wind swept through the attic, rattling pages and guttering candle flames. Avery’s agitation always stirred up elemental air, her closest element. “The more I think about it, the angrier I am! How dare they!”

The fire roared in the fireplace as smoke eddied across the room, and Helena knew that she had reached the root of the issue.

“Avery! Stop it. I understand that you are upset, but this is not the time to wreck the attic and suffocate us.” She squeezed her hand. “Please, take a breath, and calm down. I will help you.”

“You didn’t sound like you would.”

“Because I needed to understand your motivations. Now I do. Is this to do with El and her shadow work?”

The wind dropped and Avery sighed. “Yes. The fact that her parents didn’t go to the wedding upset her, and I wondered why I wasn’t upset more, and then the more I thought about it, the more I realised I am upset. I have a great life here, but it’s been tricky at times.”

“Very tricky,” Helena said, considering that a gross understatement.

Avery shrugged. “So why aren’t they here helping?”

“I would assume they have no idea of what has happened here. Where are they?”

“Not together, as far as I know.” Avery’s eyes hardened. “I decided they should come here and see exactly what they’re missing.”

“A command?”

“A coax.”

“You can’t mess with people’s free will, Avery. You know that.”

“Just a nudge, then. I wanted them to suddenly desire to come here, just for a few days.”

“Ah! I see. You’re transforming their feelings. What if they hate it here, and you hate them for their attitude? Or they love it and decide to stay and ruin the life you have here? Have you considered that?”

“But if they liked it and just wanted to visit more often, that would be nice.”

“I don’t think you can presume anything so specific. If you miss them, why don’t you just phone them?”

“Why don’t they phone me?”

Helena was used to Avery’s headstrong moods, as was Clea. Helena recognised them because they were like her own, too. “Fair point, but if you reach out, you might be surprised.”

“I haven’t been before. That’s why I stopped calling.”

Helena sighed, frustrated for Avery, and appalled at her family’s behaviour. She had died to protect her children. “Show me the spell.”

“It’s just a little one,” she said, pulling the grimoire towards her.

“It’s dragon magic. It’s never little. We saw that at Crag End!”

“Well, that’s true,” she reluctantly admitted. She smoothed out the page and showed it to Helena. “It’s an ember spell. Quite intriguing, actually. The spell includes the ash of dragon bones, and we have plenty of that thanks to the baby dragon’s sacrifice. Plus, I kept some ash from the Beltane fire we had at Rasmus’s a few days ago.”

“So you’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“Yes, and seeing as dragons are creatures of fire, it makes sense to cast it now.”

The spell was written in tiny, crabbed handwriting, and illustrations lined the edges. Helena had seen it years ago in her own lifetime, but hadn’t studied it properly. There were so many spells with scribbled annotations, pen and ink drawings, and colourful illustrations, that it became overwhelming. It was only when she needed to find a spell that she really studied them. Recent weeks had revealed a surprisingly large collection of dragon-based spells that even in her own time weren’t used anymore. Dragons were a figment of myth.

This particular spell was worked around the embers of a fire, and a variety of roots and herbs were mixed with dragon bone ash. It was indeed a transformation spell. One that changed feelings and beckoned the recipients home.

“A hearth spell, too,” Helena said thoughtfully. “Clever. Bringing someone back to hearth and home.”

Avery smiled. “A lovely name, I’ve always thought.”

“It’s an old-fashioned term. I like it, though. The connotations of warmth at the heart of the house. It says here that you need something of the person you’re beckoning, too.”

“I know, but I don’t have anything. I thought maybe using old photos might help.”

“Perhaps. You know,” Helena said, easing back in her chair, “they could be furious with you for this. Will you think on it first?”

“I have been thinking on it.”

“Think some more! Beltane energy isn’t going anywhere yet. You have time. You should talk to Alex about it.”

“He’ll think I’m needy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Aren’t you interested in meeting them?” Avery asked, a challenge in her eyes.

“I must admit I am, but I’m not sure like this.”

“But you said Clea misses them. You’d be doing her a favour.”

“Avery Hamilton, you’re being very sneaky!”

“Come on, Helena! I know you’re interested. Let’s cast it together.”

“Why do you need me? Surely you can cast it on your own?”

“I think that two people casting the calling will have more power. Plus, you carry ancestral magic, and have Clea’s magic to boot.”

“I have ancestral magic?”

“Of course you do. You’re my ancestor.”

Helena considered her request, and couldn’t deny she was interested. Seeing as she was essentially a spirit who spent a great deal of her time in the spirit world, she did carry a different kind of magic.

“Plus,” Avery continued, excited now, “it will be like we are casting as the Triple Goddess. I am the Maiden, you’re a Mother, Clea is the Crone.”

Helena snorted. “You’re hardly a maiden!”

“You know what I mean.”

Helena drummed her fingers on the table, unable to deny that the more they discussed it, the more intrigued she was. What was Avery’s mother like? Was her sister as headstrong? And were they still practicing witches?

Finally, she relented. “All right. There’s time before we go to the beach. Talk me through it.”