Shadow's Reflection, page 8
part #1 of Stonebridge Witches - Book Two Series
“June? June!” Harriet’s voice sounded muffled, as if she were calling from another world. “What’s wrong?”
June’s heart raced, but she forced herself to take a deep breath, willing the nightmarish vision to dissipate. She blinked rapidly, and the vibrant colours of the market rushed back into view. The red snow vanished, leaving only the twinkling fairy lights and the comforting scents of cinnamon and pine.
That was more vivid than before, she thought. Is it here?
“June?”
She blinked and turned to Harriet. “Sorry, I just…got lost for a moment,” she managed, trying to steady her voice.
“Lost? You looked like you saw a ghost,” Harriet said, her worry clear in her furrowed brow. “You’re not just tired, are you? Are you feeling sick?”
“Really, I’m fine,” June insisted, though her pulse still thrummed erratically under her skin. “Just a bit dizzy.”
“Dizzy? Maybe you should sit down. Have something sugary to eat…”
June looked around the market, her skin smarting with thousands of tiny pinpricks that could only mean one thing—magic.
The sense of dread that’d momentarily ebbed surged back with renewed force. It wasn’t stress. It couldn’t be. Something was wrong, but it wasn’t with her.
Whatever darkness lurked around the corner, it was coming—fast. And she knew she couldn’t afford to ignore the signs any longer, no matter the cost.
“Harriet, I need to go,” June said abruptly, her voice tinged with an urgency she couldn’t suppress. As Harriet opened her mouth to protest, she was already turning away. “I promise I’ll explain later! I’m sorry!”
She hurried through the crowd, the image of the red snow following, biting at her heels. The surrounding laughter seemed distant, as if she were moving in a separate reality where she could sense an unseen threat closing in.
“June! Hey, wait up!” called a familiar, gruff voice.
June spared only a glance at Lucas Burger, who stood by his gingerbread stall, a steaming cup of what was probably hot coffee in his hand, ironic as it was. His eyes were narrowed in confusion, but she couldn’t afford to stop, not even for him.
“Sorry! Can’t talk!” she shouted back over her shoulder and kept moving.
Lucas watched her go, confusion etching deeper lines into his forehead, but June pushed his image out of her mind.
Alistair’s candle stall came into view, flickering lights casting warm glows on the faces of customers. The old warlock looked content, a gentle smile gracing his face as he spoke to a customer about the significance of the Winter Solstice. He caught sight of June and his smile faltered.
“June?” he asked, reading the panic in her eyes as she approached. He set down the candle he was holding, the wax still soft from its recent crafting.
She reached for his wrist, her grip tight. “Alistair, the visions—they’re getting stronger. It’s not just in my head. It’s here, something dark.”
“Visions?” Alistair’s brow furrowed.
“I know Elaine told you,” she murmured.
He nodded. “She’s been keeping me informed of your progress. I may not be your teacher, but I’m still your mentor… I hope.”
“You are!” June argued.
“What did you see?”
“Red snow,” she started, her breath coming fast. “Red like blood. It was falling all around me, and—”
Before she could finish, a chill swept through the market, biting even through the layers of her coat. The first flake landed on her nose, cold and sharp. She looked up, and her blood ran cold.
“Red snow,” whispered Alistair, his eyes widening behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
It was falling gently at first, then growing heavier, swirling around them in a crimson cascade. Gasps and murmurs rose from the crowd as they too noticed the unnatural phenomenon.
“Are you seeing this?” June whispered. “Is it in my head?”
“No. June, this is—” Alistair began, but she didn’t need him to finish.
She knew. The darkness wasn’t just watching anymore. It’d arrived.
Just as Alistair’s mouth opened to speak further, an uproar broke out. Shouts sliced through the cheerful melodies and laughter that had filled the square only moments before. The scent of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts was swiftly overpowered by a sharp tang of smoke.
“Fire!” someone screamed, the cry triggering a wave of panic.
Parents clasped their children, pulling them close. Market goers stumbled away from the stalls, some tripping over the cobbles that were slick with the strange snow. A stall laden with intricately painted ornaments toppled, the delicate baubles shattering against the ground like fallen stars.
“Leave the square! Get out of the market!” Alistair commanded, his voice cutting through the bedlam. He gripped June’s arm, pulling her toward the relative safety of the apothecary.
“June, we must—” But his words were drowned out as a piercing shriek rent the air, followed by another, each one more frantic than the last.
They skidded to a stop at the edge of the market. June’s eyes darted across the square, seeking the source of the cries and the smoke.
The festive lights that’d adorned the marketplace flickered ominously, casting eerie shadows that danced like ghosts amongst the panicked crowd. People bumped into June as they rushed past, faces contorted by confusion and fear.
“Something’s coming,” she said.
Alistair nodded, his expression grave. “We need to protect them. We need to—”
But before they could move, the earth beneath their feet shuddered, a deep rumbling rising from the ground itself. Red snow continued to fall, staining the world in warning hues.
“There!” she cried, pointing across the market to where flames were lapping at the eaves of one of the wooden stalls. “That’s…” she trailed off as she realised it was Lucas’ gingerbread stall.
June took a hurried step toward the market, but Alistair grabbed her arm. “Stay back!”
“No!” she cried. “That’s Lucas’ stall. I need to help him!”
Ignoring Alistair’s protest, June wrenched her arm free and sprinted back into the square. Her heart pounded in rhythm to the frantic beat of her boots against the cobblestones. The taste of acrid smoke stuck to her tongue, the sting of it in her eyes drawing tears that blurred her vision.
“Lucas!” she screamed. “LUCAS!”
Chapter 10
June sprinted through the throngs of holiday shoppers, their merry chatter turning to shrieks and gasps as they fled from the market.
“Lucas!” Her voice tore from her throat, raw with panic. She scanned the crowd for any sight of him, but her gaze was drawn back to the blaze that seemed to roar with malevolence. Around her, the surrounding stalls caught fire, their decorations igniting like tinder, and even more flames seemed to erupt across the opposite side of the square.
June pushed closer, the heat searing her face. This wasn’t right—it felt like an attack, not an accidental fire. Heart pounding against her ribs, she reached for a discarded bucket, filling it with snow-melt that pooled in the street gutters.
“Stand back!” she called out, throwing the water onto the flames. It hissed and evaporated into angry steam, leaving the fire untouched.
Her breath caught as she released that she’d been right. Dark, twisted magic pulsed within the fire, mocking her efforts. Water wouldn’t help.
Her head spun, thoughts fragmenting under the pressure. She had to do something, even if it meant risking exposure to Lucas, to all of them.
Looking around, she tried to spot someone, anyone, from the coven, but she stood alone amongst the plumes of acrid smoke.
“Move, move!” She shoved her way through the panicked crowd, desperate for a solution that didn’t involve revealing what she truly was.
Raking her fingers through her hair, June felt a sudden rush of cold air. There, swirling around her, was the answer. Elemental magic.
Concentrating, she extended her arms and closed her eyes, reaching deep for the magic that coursed through her blood. Words of old spells danced at the edge of her consciousness, guiding her actions. She felt the surrounding air respond, a current of power building as though answering her silent call.
Suddenly, she felt an icy touch at her fingertips, a sensation that danced up her arms and tingled down her spine. A sudden gust swept through the market square, bending trees and sending papers flying. The flames flickered wildly, faltering under the barrage of wind. June focused, pouring every ounce of her will into the effort. She imagined the fire smothering, suffocating, and the wind obeyed, growing fiercer, colder.
Then, with a final surge of concentration, she unleashed a cyclone of freezing air. The flames writhed and sputtered beneath the onslaught, shrinking lower and lower until there were only tendrils of smoke left coiling upward.
“June!”
Her breath caught as she heard Lucas’ voice behind her and she grabbed the bucket, throwing the rest of the melted snow onto the remains of the fire.
“Help me,” June cried, as he appeared next to her, not daring to meet his gaze. With a swift movement, she scooped up another bucket full of snow and threw it onto a stubborn ember, masking the last wisp of her spell. “We need to put out the rest!”
Lucas took the bucket from her hands and together, they stamped and smothered the remaining flames.
“Is it… Is it over?” she asked, her voice hoarse from the smoke. Glancing around, she saw they were alone, a wail of sirens approaching steadily from the south.
“It seems so,” Lucas told her.
June brushed a stray lock of blonde hair from her face, her heart still galloping as she looked at the charred and melted remains of his stall. “Oh, your gingerbread…”
“Forget about it,” he said, turning to her. “Are you okay? Did you get burnt?”
June blinked and shook her head. “No. I—”
“You really got in there,” he went on, his expression turning into a frown. “That was reckless. You could’ve got seriously hurt.”
“I’m fine.” She managed a weak shake of her head, her mind already racing ahead to what excuses she could conjure if he pressed further.
“But you did get hurt,” Lucas said, his eyes flicking to her hands, stained black with soot and slightly reddened from the heat. Concern shimmered through his gruff exterior.
“I’ve had worse,” June replied, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel into her voice.
Silence hung between them, the only sound the distant wail of sirens and the soft crackling of dying embers. Lucas looked at her, his brown eyes filled with confusion and concern.
June’s gaze drifted over the remnants of the market, and she caught sight of Elaine weaving through the crowd. The older witch was muttering something under her breath as she traced patterns in the air with her fingertips. June knew those gestures, as she’d been learning them over the last few weeks—elemental magic being subtly used to calm and cleanse.
“Hey!” Harriet was limping toward them, pain etched on her face. “June. Lucas!”
Lucas rushed to grasp her arm. “You okay?”
Harriet shook her head. “I slipped in the snow.” She winced and leaned against him. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Lucas said, more tenderly than June had expected.
“Can you walk?” June asked as she assessed Harriet’s swollen ankle with a worried look.
“Sort of,” Harriet winced as she tried to put her weight on her injured ankle. “Uh, make that a no.”
“Let’s not risk it,” June decided. “Lucas, can you?”
Without hesitation, Lucas swept Harriet into his arms, eliciting a surprised squeak from her.
“Lucas Burger, if you drop me, I swear—”
He scoffed and adjusted his hold. “Shut your pie hole, Fortune.”
June led the way back to The Corner, which seemed untouched by the disaster. As they entered, the warmth of the café embraced them, a stark contrast to the cold fear outside. Faces turned their way, expressions filled with relief and concern.
“Make way, make way!” Lucas announced, carrying Harriet to an empty chair by the fireplace.
June knelt beside her friend, inspecting her injured ankle. “It’s swollen. Lucas, is there an icepack we can put on it?”
“Got one in the first aid kit,” he replied, then disappeared into the back.
“Is everyone else okay?” Harriet asked, leaning back in the chair.
“Mostly just shook up,” June replied, scanning the room. She saw parents hugging their children, and friends sharing relieved embraces.
“Here,” Lucas said, returning with an icepack. “Put that on your ankle.”
“Thanks,” Harriet said, taking it with shaking hands. “What even happened? Did you see that snow?”
June and Lucas exchanged a glance.
“Could’ve been an electrical fault,” June offered. “With all the lights and equipment…”
“Sounds about right,” Lucas agreed, his eyes narrowing.
She met his gaze, her magic stirring like acid in her gut. How much had he seen? Maybe she hadn’t been as clever as she thought.
“But electrical faults don’t turn snow red,” Lucas went on, his voice low and steady. He squatted down across from June, his brown eyes probing hers with an intensity that made her want to look away.
“Red snow?” a patron chimed in from a nearby table, overhearing their conversation. “You mean like that algae bloom stuff? I read that can happen.”
“Algae?” Harriet’s voice raised an octave. “In the snow?”
“Rare, but not impossible,” another man added, sipping his coffee. “Saw it once on the news, somewhere way up north. Crimson tides and all.”
June seized the opportunity, hoping to divert Lucas’s growing suspicion. “Maybe that’s it then, some freak natural occurrence.”
“Maybe,” Lucas mumbled, but the crease between his brows deepened. His gaze lingered on June, searching for something she wasn’t able to reveal, being bound by the most ancient laws of the Stonebridge coven.
A silence fell upon them, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the low murmur of conversations around The Corner. June could feel Harriet’s curious stare, but she kept her focus on Lucas, willing him to let the subject drop.
“Let’s just be grateful no one got seriously hurt,” June said, her voice firm yet gentle, trying to close the topic. “Right now, we need to help each other out. There’s got to be quite a mess outside.”
Lucas nodded slowly, standing up and looking over the room, the tension in his jaw suggesting his mind was still racing with unanswered questions. Harriet, cradling her ankle, offered a weak smile, clearly overwhelmed.
“Yeah,” she agreed, wincing as she adjusted the icepack. “And I’d love to stay and chat about mystery snow, but I’m thinking I should get this ankle elevated at home.”
“Sure, let me just—” June began, but Lucas interrupted.
“I’ll take you,” he said abruptly, causing June’s heart to skip, not from fear or cold, but from the surprising tenderness in his voice. “You’ll need help getting about.”
As they prepared to leave, June slipped onto a chair, her thoughts swirling like the strange red snowflakes outside. How much longer could she keep her secret with all this dark magic hanging around? And at what cost?
“Actually,” June interjected with a forced steadiness in her voice, “I’ll take Harriet home. You’ve got your hands full here.” She offered a vague gesture toward the gathered crowd, each individual seeking comfort after the ordeal.
“Are you sure?” Lucas’s eyes narrowed slightly, his suspicion evident despite the casual tone he tried to maintain.
“Absolutely,” she insisted, standing up and helping Harriet to her feet. Her friend leaned on her, and together they began to make their way out of The Corner.
“I’m not too heavy, am I?” she asked, but June shook her head.
“June?” Lucas called out, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t afford to give him any more reasons to doubt her explanation—or lack thereof.
Once outside, the crisp air hit them like a wall, the night lit up by flashing red and blue lights that were definitely not festive. Harriet shivered beside her, and June draped an arm around her waist for warmth and support. They moved past the charred remains of stalls, now being doused by firefighters.
“June, what happened back there?” Harriet asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern. “With the fire, I mean. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
“It has to be an electrical fault,” June replied quickly, too quickly perhaps, but it was the safest answer. She could sense the dark energy still lingering in the air, a silent, sinister vibration that only she seemed attuned to.
“Maybe,” Harriet mused, glancing at the snow beneath their feet, which was a brown mush, the red hue long gone. “And the snow?”
“Let’s just focus on getting you home,” June said, steering the conversation away from dangerous territory. Her mind turned over and over, sifting through the possible connections between the fires and the malevolent forces she felt encroaching upon Stonebridge.
As they continued their cautious trek through the icy streets, June’s gaze lingered on the shadows stretching between the buildings. Was it her imagination, or did they seem to writhe and pulse with a life of their own?
“Thanks for helping me back,” Harriet said, breaking through June’s concentration. “You always were the brave one.”
“Brave, or maybe just good at pretending,” June murmured, her blue eyes scanning the darkness. How much longer could she keep this up? How much longer until the truth came to light?
“Good at pretending?” Harriet’s voice wavered with the discomfort of her hobbling gait. “I don’t think so. June, you’re the strongest person I know.”
June offered a weak smile, feeling anything but. Her secret was a chasm between her and everyone she loved, every lie and deflection another brick in the wall that enclosed her heart.
