Hunter’s face fell. “Is that what happened to them?”
Devon flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “I was the first and only girl in the Swords Suit and they wanted to ask me demeaning questions about my favorite flower—”
“SO LET THEM DIE,” Tegan shouted between cackles. She actually had turned red and had tears in her eyes.
Jackson pointed to her and looked to Haven. “Are you not worried about that?”
“The answer to that question is always yes,” Haven said with a sigh.
Constance shook her head. “I think we’ve lost everyone at this point, Tim.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I’m enjoying myself immensely here.”
“Wait, D,” Royce yelled and snapped his fingers. “I don’t even know your favorite.”
“I like the ones the florist makes.” He grinned. “Oh and the ones that come in those balls?”
“Hydrangeas?” Royce frowned. “Really?”
Emersyn held up her left hand in front of her. “Well I want a hydrangea-sized ring on this finger one day.”
“Emersyn,” Cooper hissed.
She rolled her eyes. “If he’s gonna say spoiled rich boy shit like that, then I get to capitalize.”
Cooper’s eyebrows rose. “Deacon?”
“That actually works for me.”
Kessler’s eyebrows were scrunched so low over his eyes he looked like a cartoon character. “I can’t think of a favorite flower. This is a lot of pressure. What’s yours Royce?”
“The bougainvillea.” A slow grin spread across his face. “Because they’re beautiful, grow wildly fast and any way they want, and the thorns on those bitches leave wounds.”
Willow shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Guys, I’m freezing. Can we do this so I can put real clothes on?”
“Sure thang, boo.” Royce pointed to Uncle Tim. “Baby’s breath is really your favorite?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It is.”
I pursed my lips. “This actually sounds familiar, like I knew that.”
“Hey, I wasn’t judging.” Deacon held his palms up. “I was just surprised.”
Easton raised his hand. “Me too. Why are they your favorite?”
“Because they’re my favorite,” Haven said softly.
THAT’S why I recognized it.
All laughing died as everyone glanced back and forth between Uncle Tim and Haven.
Haven smirked. “My mother used it a lot for spells, good ones like for healing and relaxation and such. She used to have it all over the house in the summer and fall, but not in the winter—”
“So Uncle Tim would make ice versions of them for you,” I whispered as the memories flashed through my mind.
Uncle Tim nodded with a little smile.
Silence.
“Dammit,” Tegan cursed and wiped at her eyes. “I knew you were gonna make me cry.”
“Baby’s breath it is then.” Royce cleared this throat and cracked his knuckles, then threw his hands out. “Coming right up.”
Light flashed and then the grass in the entire circle was covered in those teeny tiny white flowers. My breath left me in a rush. My mother’s face instantly filled my thoughts. It was still strange to have new old memories. It wasn’t until Haven mentioned it that I remembered Mom using these. She used to fill our room with them just to make him happy.
Emersyn flicked her wrists, and two balls of fire appeared in her palms. She flung her hands and shot her fire to the ground just outside the circle. Flames flickered all around us. Willow sighed so hard she actually swayed.
OH, I’m next! It was my job to ice the pentagram. But as I held my hand out and started to bend down, my gaze landed on my uncle…whose magic I’d inadvertently taken. Will this hurt him?
Uncle Tim smiled. “You’re up, Hope.”
I bit my lip and nodded, then dropped to one knee and pressed my palm flat to the dirt. My magic burst out of me in a cloud of pink mist and then bright white light flashed. Ice slithered out from my hand, covering every inch of the black lines of the pentagram.
Bentley shouted in the ancient-ancient language and I told myself I needed to make a spell to learn that one too.
Just then Bentley’s shouting grew louder, and Uncle Tim gasped. I knew what was coming, I’d watched Saffie’s and I remembered my own but when his legs gave out from under him and his knees slammed into the ground, my breath left me in a rush. I remembered how this felt, having every single muscle in my body tighten and my pulse hammering in my veins.
Brace yourself. It’s about to hurt him, Tegan said into my mind.
The clouds above us roared. They flashed and then lightning sliced through the sky and slammed into his forehead.
His spine arched and his head tipped back. A bright golden beam of light shot out of his eyes like Cyclops in X-Men. Words in our ancient language appeared within the light, glowing like flames. They said the quest for truth is solitary. His mouth opened and another beam poured off his tongue in English. It said the same words.
A wave of raw magic exploded out of him and then beams of light shot out in every direction. In their soft golden streams there was glowing writing in all different languages, shapes, and runes. There were some I recognized, like Egyptian Hieroglyphics, Mandarin, and Sanskrit, then dozens more I’d never seen before. The thick beam shooting from his back held angelic runes. I recognized others in French, Spanish, Russian, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. I didn’t speak any of them but I knew in my gut they all said the same thing.
The quest for truth is solitary.
My jaw dropped. He was the Hermit Card so the line made sense, but I hadn’t expected this level of power and magic from it.
A cold gust of wind rushed through the trees that lined the Old Lands and slammed into us from the side. The golden beams curled and wrapped around Uncle Tim like a tornado of words.
Thunder roared over our heads and a golden spotlight shined down the circle. Haven’s big gold wings popped out of his back. The gold lines on his arm shined so bright it hurt to look at him. My fingers buzzed and tingled. I looked down and hissed. The gold bands on my fingers burned bright like Haven’s.
Two lightning bolts struck the ground on either side of Tegan and then burned across the grass to Uncle Tim. They jumped off the ground and slammed into his palms.
I ran over and dropped to my knees beside him. “Welcome back to The Coven!”
Haven leaned over us with a wide grin. “I might even let ya have leader back.”
Uncle Tim threw his head back and laughed. “Took me twelve years to get rid of that damned job. She’s all yours.”
“Uh, mates? We gonna talk about that sword?” Jackson pointed to it in Uncle Tim’s hand. “Is that normal for a Hermit?”
“I don’t think so,” Hunter said with a scowl.
Devon walked up to us and eyed it. “I don’t recall Kenneth having a special sword. He would have showed me back in school.”
“I was at his initiation,” Kessler said softly, his eyes distant. Then he shook himself. “I mean, I was little and I watched through the windows. Our dad was in The Coven, but I definitely don’t remember him getting a sword.”
Constance frowned. “He didn’t.”