Shadow's Reflection, page 2
part #1 of Stonebridge Witches - Book Two Series
“Alistair! Are you complaining again?” the witch greeted, her voice full of amusement.
“Only about the weather,” Alistair replied. He extended a hand toward Elaine, who took it with a laugh, and they exchanged a warm handshake.
“June,” Elaine said, turning to her. “It’s good to see you. I’ve been hearing good things about your progress.”
“Thanks,” June replied, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Her hands fiddled with the ends of her long blonde hair as she looked back at Elaine. “I still have a lot to learn, though.”
“Ah, you’ll do fine.” She waved a hand at Alistair, shooing him away. “Let this old man return to his books and potions. You’re under my wing now.”
Alistair shook his head slightly, his eyes twinkling. “Don’t cause too much trouble out here, will you?”
Elaine waved him off, her mismatched bracelets jingling. “I’ll keep her safe. You worry too much,” she teased.
“And sometimes, not enough.” He nodded once before he turned and left the two women alone in the glade.
June’s nerves must’ve been showing, because Elaine’s hand rested gently on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have fun. I promise.”
June let out a long sigh and smiled. The shadow that’d nearly ruined everything—her return home, her standing with the coven, and her friend’s lives—was still lingering like a bad smell in her rearview mirror, but Elaine’s warmth began to melt the ice.
“Come on, then. Let’s see what the elements hold for us today,” the older witch said, leading June toward the heart of the glade. But to her surprise, they left the clearing behind and moved along the path toward the standing stones.
The ring of rocks, made of bluestone and sarsen, stood tall in the centre of the field. They were carefully arranged in a precise ‘henge’ pattern, mirroring the grandeur of Stonehenge. but on a much smaller scale. Also, this henge didn’t have the lintels its more famous counterpart had. Despite this, each stone was meticulously placed to align with specific celestial events such as solstices and eclipses, making it a remarkable feat considering it was likely constructed during the Bronze Age or earlier.
The two women approached the stones. June wondered who’d built them and if they’d been witches, too. She trailed behind Elaine, the earthy musk of stone and moss filling her nose as they passed inside the ring.
“Ah,” Elaine began, her voice bouncing off the stones. “Can you feel that?”
June hesitated, not sure what she was supposed to be sensing.
“The wind is stirring,” the older witch continued. “Listen.”
June closed her eyes and stilled herself, focusing all her senses on the world around her. At first, all she could hear were the mundane sounds of nature—twigs snapping underfoot, the rustling of leaves in the trees nearby. But as she concentrated harder, she felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach.
The wind whispered through the stones, carrying with it the murmurs of ancient spirits and the distant chanting of a ritual.
She opened her eyes, but instead of magic, she saw deep grooves scarring the stones. “I heard about this. The vandalism.” Her fingers hovered over the marred surface, tracing the jagged lines. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Ah, yes, the talk of the town,” Elaine sighed, her eyes darkening. “The coven is working hard to right these wrongs, but the culprit is still unknown.”
Elaine reached out, pressing her palm against the stone. The stone hummed under her touch, a low resonance that seemed to echo deep within the earth. “You see, each of these stones holds an imprint of the magic performed around them—a residual energy that lingers long after the spell is cast.”
“If it was a witch or a dark entity, you’d be able to tell, right?”
“In theory, yes,” Elaine admitted, her mismatched bangles clinking together as she dropped her hand. “But whoever did this was clever about hiding their tracks. Or they were just too powerful for the stones to resist.”
June frowned at the thought. “Or they were human.”
“There is that to consider, too. Now,” Elaine clapped her hands together. “Watch closely.” She extended her arms, palms facing the sky. The wild curls of her hair danced, and June felt a charge in the air as the older witch called on her magic.
Elaine moved her hands in a slow, graceful arc, drawing invisible patterns. The stillness broke and a tender gust of wind responded. It swept through the stones and lifted the last defiant leaves of autumn in a twirl around the henge.
“Feel it?” Elaine asked, a smile curving her lips. “The element knows what to do, if you’re skilled enough to guide it.”
June watched, a little jealous of Elaine’s effortless display of power, and wished she could control her magic just as easily.
The older witch’s fingers traced the currents of the air, her movements delicate and deliberate. The leaves danced at her command. “Beautiful, isn’t it? The elements speak to us, June. They’re old friends waiting to be understood. They are the basis of everything we do as witches. They are our magic.”
Nodding, June swallowed the lump of excitement in her throat. She took a hesitant step forward, her eyes wide, reflecting the last rays of sunlight that filtered through the trees.
“Your turn.” Elaine gestured to her. “Don’t be afraid. Air is all about intuition and freedom. Let it flow through you.”
June raised her hands, palms facing outward just as Elaine’s had. Her fingers trembled, not with cold, but in anticipation of the magic she was about to conjure—magic that could so easily break out of her control.
“Don’t worry about making a mistake,” Elaine murmured. “Just let the air breathe.”
A tingling sensation sparked at June’s fingertips, a whisper of energy that sought direction.
“Concentrate on your breath, feel the ebb and flow,” the older witch instructed, standing behind June now. “Merge your rhythm with that of the surrounding air.”
Closing her eyes, June inhaled deeply, her lungs expanding. She exhaled slowly, envisioning her breath mingling with the breeze, becoming one with the currents that flowed around the stones.
“Let go, June. Trust yourself.”
And so, she let go.
A surge of energy rushed through her, pulsating from the core of her being to her fingertips. It mingled with the world, whispering to the air. The leaves rustled, a slight stirring at first, then a sudden rush of wind scooped the fallen leaves around her feet and flung them into the air.
They hovered for a moment, the wind stalling, before they fell back to the ground like rocks.
“Good,” Elaine murmured.
“They barely moved,” June complained.
Elaine only chuckled. “Making a tornado on your first try wouldn’t be progress, it’d be terrifying! Magic isn’t about power, it’s about connection. For a first attempt, that was quite spirited.”
She glanced down at her hands, the tingling sensation of her unpredictable magic gone. “It felt different from the spell I used against the shadow.”
“It would. That spell you used called to the spirit. Taming nature is entirely different, and it doesn’t always want to be controlled. If that’s one thing you take from today’s lesson, then so be it.”
“But—” June started, only to be cut short by Elaine’s raised hand.
“No buts. It’s time for you to learn to listen, to feel the magic and not just command it. You’ll understand in time.” The older witch’s eyes held a glimmer of amusement, but there was a hardness there, too. “And it only comes with practice.” She grasped June’s shoulders and turned her toward the open glade around the standing stones. “Look. Listen to the whispers of the earth, the songs of the rivers, the stories the wind tells, and the history locked within the stones. They are your allies, your friends. Treat them with respect, and they will share their secrets with you.”
Respect. The word resonated within her, stirring echoes of her parents, her legacy, the path she’d chosen—or perhaps the path that’d chosen her.
“I will,” June murmured. “I can feel it. I know it’s there. I’ll learn how to hear it, I promise.”
“Don’t promise me,” Elaine declared. “Promise yourself.” She jabbed a finger against June’s chest. “And promise them,” she added, sweeping her arm to encompass the surrounding glade.
The wind howled in response, rustling the leaves on the ground and shaking the boughs overhead.
June froze at the sudden gust, her eyes wide. “That’s… They’re listening, aren’t they?”
Elaine shrugged. “No idea.” Her laughter echoed around the henge. “Magic, my dear June, is much like life itself—unpredictable and full of surprises. Why, I recall a time when I attempted to summon a gentle snowfall over the lake. A simple spell, or so I thought.”
June watched as Elaine’s hands wove through the air, painting invisible strokes that seemed to pull at the very fabric of the wind. The older witch’s eyes sparkled with the recollection of her tale.
“Instead of a delicate dusting,” Elaine continued, “I conjured a storm fierce enough to freeze the entire lake overnight. It was a difficult event to predict on the weather forecast the next day, and I got into so much trouble. That lake has never frozen over.” Her chuckle was loud in the quiet of the glade. “Remember, the elements are fickle. They play by their own rules. It’s our task to learn how to bend them just enough so they don’t break.”
June nodded, excited to keep trying. “But how do you know how much you can manipulate? When does it break?”
“As a witch, you can only use what’s available to you,” Elaine explained. “You can’t conjure snow on a summer’s day. Or water in the middle of a drought. Fire, on the other hand…” She sighed. “Destruction is easy, but the path to goodness is difficult. If more people stood up to the challenge, then perhaps a lot of stories would have different endings.” Elaine’s expression shifted as she spoke. She rested a hand gently upon June’s shoulder, grounding her with a touch that spoke of shared secrets and unspoken understanding.
Easy to fall prey to the darkness, June thought. How hard had my parents fought to stay on the path of goodness? Had they fought at all?
Elaine regarded her for a long moment before speaking again. “You have your mother’s spirit and your father’s determination. A powerful combination.”
She looked up, her heart leaping. “Did you know them?”
“I knew them well,” Elaine said, her voice tinged with melancholy. “They walked a path of both light and shadow, and though darkness claimed them, the why’s and how’s are still a mystery. I wish I could tell you more.”
A familiar ache bloomed in June’s chest at the mention of her parents. She searched Elaine’s face for clues, for anything that might reveal some new shred of information, but she found nothing.
The older witch paused, looking at her with a gaze that bore an unseen weight. “Your mother had eyes like yours, deep and full of curiosity.” She reached out, gently tucking a strand of June’s hair behind her ear. “And your father, he had this quiet strength about him. They were good people, June. They got caught in a trap they didn’t foresee.”
“But why the dark magic?” she persisted. “What lured them to it?”
“Magic is a wonderful thing, but it can be fickle. Your parents—there was a desperation to them near the end. A search for something greater.” She sighed, looking skyward where the short winter day was already darkening toward night. “I think there are pieces of the puzzle missing, things that have been left unexplained.”
“What things?” June whispered.
“There’s more to their story—I feel it in my bones. Perhaps together we can unravel some of those mysteries,” Elaine offered. “But for now, let us focus on this new stage of your studies. You’ve made a good first go of it today.”
“Thanks,” June murmured as they turned toward the glade. “For agreeing to teach me.”
“Of course,” Elaine replied, a knowing smile creasing her face. “We’re going to have a lot of fun. It’s been a while since I mentored a young witch, and I have a feeling it’ll be quite the adventure for both of us.”
Leaves crunched underfoot as June followed Elaine away from the standing stones, the memory of her parents and the magic she’d conjured tingling on her nerve endings. The woods seemed to close in around her with curiosity, and the air was full of static, as if the elements anticipated the arrival of a clumsy new witch.
“Let’s get you home, shall we?” Elaine said as they turned to the trail leading back to the road. “I can give you a ride back to town.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
They ambled through the underbrush, new sounds emerging from the darkening forest. June shivered, her gaze flickering over her shoulder. The woods became something else once the sunlight faded, something she wasn’t sure was entirely good.
“Never fear the dusk,” Elaine said, as if reading her thoughts. “It’s merely an in-between time, much like the veil between worlds.”
“It feels like there’s always something lurking in the shadows, though.”
“Ah, but remember,” Elaine whispered, “even shadows need light to exist. It’s not just a cliché!”
A strange, charged silence enveloped them as they emerged onto the well-trodden path leading to the road where they found Elaine’s ancient Jeep parked just off the lane. The car had peeling beige paint and a range of witch themed stickers on the rear window, and looked like a relic more suited to a museum than the hilly roads of Stonebridge. Despite its aged appearance, it had a distinct charm, just like its owner.
June climbed into the passenger seat, the fabric of the old cushions hugging her form. As the engine sputtered to life, she glanced back at the darkening woods, wondering if the eyes she felt burning into her back was just her mind playing tricks…or something dark still lingered even where she was supposed to feel the safest.
Chapter 3
June wandered around the tightly packed shelves of Fortune’s Books, studying the colourful spines in the local history section. The modern bookstore, a labyrinth of shelves and carefully selected staff recommendations, hummed with the warmth of Harriet’s expertise. Among the scent of fresh ink and paper, June’s senses prickled with the lingering scent of magic only she could detect—a stirring of shadows that clung to a hidden chamber in the back of the stockroom.
There was nothing in there now, Alistair having removed the dark objects that’d been concealed who knew how long ago, but magic had a way of lingering long after the fact.
“June!” Harriet’s voice cut through her thoughts, as bright as the string of lights hanging in the front windows. She emerged from behind a stand of bestsellers, her arms full of coloured paper chains.
“Hey.” Something rustled through the pages of a nearby novel, a sign unseen but deeply felt.
“You’ve been so busy lately, I’ve barely seen you,” Harriet said as she wrestled with the Christmas decorations. “People are starting to call you ‘The Blur’.”
“The what?”
“The Blur,” Harriet repeated. “A blonde streak through the town, always rushing somewhere.” She swished a hand dramatically through the air for emphasis, the paper chains tumbling to the floor. “Oh, shoot.”
June bent over to pick up the decorations. “I know. I’ve just got a lot to do.”
“Working at The Corner, helping Alistair at the apothecary…” She raised her eyebrows, but June wasn’t about to let on that she knew Harriet was fishing for more information on where else she was disappearing to.
“Something like that,” June muttered, tension coiling beneath her calm exterior. She couldn’t reveal the truth—that she was a witch, and Harriet and Lucas had been in mortal danger only a few months ago. “The Christmas display is coming along,” she said, trying to change the subject. “Do you need some help?”
“Ah, just looking for a place to put up the paper chain.” Harriet gathered the last of the decorations off the floor and stood. “I was thinking of looping it around the bottom of the tree in the window as a kind of bed for the picture books. I’ve got some stands for those. Come and see.”
June followed Harriet through the haphazard aisles of the bookstore, dodging a stack of hardcovers and a table loaded with holiday anthologies. They wound their way to the large front window overlooking the town square, framed by twinkling fairy lights and mistletoe sprigs.
June helped her friend arrange the paper chain, draping it around the books and the base of the Christmas tree that twinkled with a rainbow of festive lights and glittery baubles.
As June looked over the cosy display, she shivered as she become aware of a change in the air, and her gaze lifted. Outside, she gasped as the first flakes of snow began to fall, dotting the square with white.
“Oh!” Harriet exclaimed. “It’s snowing!”
“The first snow of the year,” June murmured. “I guess it’s really winter now.”
“Do you want to go for a walk in the woods?” she asked. “It’d be so pretty right now.”
“Now?” June looked around the shop. “Can you leave work?”
“It’s not busy and I do have staff, you know. It’s not always just me here.” Harriet waved at a woman across the shop who looked up from tidying the shelves. “Anne! I’m heading out for a little bit. Can you hold down the fort?”
“Sure!” came the reply.
“See?” Harriet said, grinning at June. “Easy.” Grabbing her hand, she added, “C’mon, we all need a break and I feel like we’ve hardly had any time to hang out since you moved back.”
“Okay,” June acquiesced. “Let’s go.”
They retrieved their coats from behind the counter and ventured outside, chattering excitedly.
The crisp air nipped at June’s cheeks as she followed Harriet’s eager strides, leading them away from the warmth of Fortune’s Books, across the square, down the lane beside The Corner, and onto the track leading to the woods.
