His face hardened, the sumptuous turn of his lips settling into a hard line. “I will protect you from anything.”
In a startling moment of clarity, the past made sense. He’d already protected me once. It was why we were both on the stones. Mrs Cox had said he wasn’t meant to be there. “That’s what worries me.” I trembled deep down within the pit of my stomach. “What if this is an endless cycle, and the past happens all over again?”
He turned his face for the door, and the clouds and drizzle outside. “Only one way to find out.”
I nodded. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to hide in the moment and lose myself within the comforting presence he contained. But, instead I steeled myself. “Let’s go find the village witch.” I turned for the door, but his hand held mine, tugging me back. He reeled me closer, his lips swiftly grazing my mouth.
“Happy birthday.” It was a low murmur and my stomach squeezed.
Our eyes met and I smiled. “Thank you.”
We walked out into the darkening sky, me clutching the piece of paper Phil had got from the cook. As I glanced back, I was sure shadows moved within the draughty corners of the castle’s entrance hall. I shivered and stepped closer to Tristan.
The cottage when we found it—down a stony road which looked like it hadn’t changed in a hundred years—was run down. Dark ivy wrapped around the building as it did the castle. Tristan stepped up and knocked on the door. I hid behind his back, my hand pressed into the fabric of his t-shirt. I wanted to close my eyes and breathe in the fresh scent of sunshine and outdoors that clung to him, but the door opened.
I was expecting the witch to be an old woman, but the bright eyes of a woman in her thirties stared back at us. “Can I help?”
“Hi, sorry to bother you, but we are from the school.” Tristan started, and I peeked from behind his back, bolstered by his words.
“I’m Mae.” It was a simple statement. It contained so much. I was me, I was her. I was everything in between.
Tristan and I stared in shock as the woman fell to her knees. “Mae?”
“Uh, yeah. Hi.” This was awkward. Tristan and I swapped confused looks.
“I always said you’d return. My Goddess.”
I frowned. “Now steady on.”
The woman lifted from the ground. “Please come in.”
We followed her in, although the hairs were standing on the back of my neck. I had to remind myself we were looking for answers—any answers to any questions at this point.
“My liege,” she dropped Tristan a small curtsey, and I snorted as his skin blushed.
“What’s going on? How do you know who we are?” I stepped into the room. Bunches of herbs hung from low beams. They seemed oddly familiar and then I remembered my herb collection in my previous life, the aid and comfort I offered our people. “Are you a Druid?”
“Sheena,” she offered her hand, her fingers trembling a little. I squeezed her fingers gently, hoping to put her at ease. I didn’t know who she thought I was, but she didn’t need to be scared. No one need fear me.
“No.” Her face folded into a bitter mask. “Not the Druids they became. My family, we followed the old ways.”
“But Druids don’t exist, they are the old ways themselves.” I knew this.
“No, they changed, hid, when you, when you…”
“Died,” I prompted. Her eyes flit between mine and Tristan's.
“Yes. You took the power they were hoping to use.”
“How do you know this? You’re talking thousands of years.” Was she a conduit too like Heather?
“Look.” She motioned towards a collection of leather-bound books. They were ancient, their spines peeling and snapped. “My family have been keeping the records. We’ve never moved; always stayed here, waiting and hoping.” Her hands wrung her apron in excitement.
“For two thousand years, you’ve been waiting?”
She nodded and gestured for us to sit on her floral chairs. I didn’t want to sit, I wanted answers.
“How did your family know?”
“You healed our ancestor. You used your magic and thought she didn’t know.”
I tilted my head to the side and watched her silently.
“When you died she watched and waited. The power you had, it wasn’t druid, it was stronger, fiercer, more powerful than anything. Then we all watched and waited.”
“I don’t have any power. Nothing.”
Tristan’s fingers reached for my shoulders and kneaded my tense flesh.
“Yet. Have you been heartbroken? Scared? It’s inside you, it needs to awaken.” Sheena pulled at her apron. Her face etched with fine lines and I guessed she was wishing the act of enlightenment hadn’t fallen on her shoulders.
“My parents died. I think that’s enough heartbreak for one lifetime.”
She shook her head. “They weren’t your parents, not really. This is where you belong.” She glanced at Tristan, his fingers keeping contact with me at all times. “Family isn’t always the blood you have, it’s the blood you choose.”
I stared at the ancient tomes on the shelf. “Can I look?”
“As much as you like. Can I offer you tea? Cake? Anything?”
I smiled, but it echoed with emptiness. “No, just time.”
Sheena was disappointed. I guess she expected the moment, if it ever arrived, to go better. But I couldn’t change the fact there wasn’t a single thing magical about me. It was just the truth.
Maybe they were just dreams after all? Maybe this was all nonsense. Tristan came and took a book, perching his long legs against the shelf as he flipped the pages.
My head could speak any truth. But could my heart?
“What?” he asked. The dimple flashed.
“Nothing.” But I wanted to tell him that nothing was everything and all things unknown were written in my heart.
“This is hopeless.” I flung down the book. There were references to the growth of my power, as Sheena’s ancestor recorded them. Myself and the liege had returned to
