Illusions: Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (The Seekers Book 1) Page 3

  Sera and Nyx found her wandering outside her house next door, apparently sizing up its windows for the coming winter. Already in mid-September the air was growing cool, foretelling a harsh season to come. And given that no carpenters lived in their small village, it was up to her to repair anything in need of her usually adept hand.

  The old woman’s grey hair trickled down her back in a series of narrow braids, her cheeks pink with a combination of her exertion and the cool air. As always, she managed to look content even while she was irritated.

  “How are things, Sera?” she asked as the younger woman came up beside her, her eyes still locked on the window’s edge. Nyx, still perched on Sera’s shoulder, sniffed Karab, Hedy’s badger Familiar, who sat on the window sill, overseeing the work with his usual disinterested expression.

  “I’m all right, though still pretty concerned about Circe’s recurring fever. Every time it seems to go away, it ends up coming back and hanging on like an ant stuck in a honey pot. But how are you?”

  “I’m just fine, other than my strong current desire to kick this place to the ground. Just seeing if there’s something to be done about these damned drafty windows,” said the other woman, digging her fingers into the wooden trim to look for openings that shouldn’t exist.

  Sera laughed. “Watch it. Swearing will get you hanged around here, Hedy,” she said. “Of course, apparently so will being female, so you may as well swear away. Have fun while you’re still alive, I say.”

  “You can be damned sure that I will. Now why can’t someone invent a device to fill all these cracks?” She threw her arms up in defeat. “All the spells in the world and I have yet to find one that’ll stop a draft from freezing my arse off.”

  Serafina laughed. “Something tells me you’re on the verge of a discovery,” she said. “Anyhow, it would take a seriously gusty winter to freeze my arse off. I should know; I’ve tried to get rid of it since I was thirteen. The stupid thing’s latched onto me, though. I suppose I’m stuck with it for good.”

  “There’s no point in trying to lose one’s backside, child. Those things come in very handy when tempting men, not to mention sitting on hard church pews.”

  “And you know how I love spending time in churches. I’m so very devout.”

  Hedy laughed. “Yes, I suppose they’re not really our sort of place, are they? They’re torture chambers.”

  Sera turned and looked towards the woods. “I prefer the church of the goddess: the trees, the fields and anywhere that offers fresh air and fresh meat to hunt. Anyhow,” she said. “I came by to hear the latest news. I’ve been spending so much time at Circe’s side that I feel a bit out of things. What’s the latest on the goings-on at this Guild that we’ve been hearing about?”

  Hedy turned to her for the first time since her arrival, for a moment ignoring her problematic windows. Her jaw was drawn tightly shut, concern wrinkling her brow. This was a rare expression for the Crone.

  “Nothing good,” she said. “Nothing good at all. They have been abducting again. Young women have been taken from a few neighbouring towns, and word has it that the Guild is on the verge of working its way through Salem. They’re relentless, the bastards.”

  “But they can’t just grab women out of their homes, surely? That’s madness. It’s kidnapping. Why doesn’t someone stop them?”

  “They continue to claim that they’re helping Salem’s residents to capture its witches. And it seems these days that everything with breasts is a witch, so they take freely. Hell, I hear that a dog was hanged recently for attacking an intruder. It was possessed, they said. Like a bloody guard dog must have Satan in him to bite a man’s arse.”

  “I don’t understand why they’d help with the hunt,” moaned Sera. “I mean, have we learned anything about the Guild’s motives? What have they to gain from this? It’s as though they’re simply throwing their weight around for the sake of it. They’re bigger and stronger than women, and they know it. The worst part is that they convince everyone else that it’s all about some feminine hysteria when we know that’s not true. What I wouldn’t give to take them on and get those women back. Once I come into my skills, that is.”

  “Yes, well, you know that we can’t do that yet. It would seem that the Guild is made up of very powerful, very clever men. They see our kind and they see targets; victims ripe for the taking. When they come for the Sisterhood we will have no choice but to take them on, and that includes yours truly. Beware, Sera: they will come before much time has passed, and I suspect that they’ll be less kind than Salem’s hangmen.”

  “Well, they’re not expecting the likes of us,” said Sera as Nyx, attempting to calm her stress, licked her neck. “They’d better damn well get used to the idea of strong women. We’re not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, well, strong women frighten most menfolk half to death, you see,” said Hedy, wiping her hands on her full skirt. “Particularly those of us with powers that they fail to understand. That’s why men blame us for everything; they have since the beginning of time. Eve in the Garden of Eden: she ate that bloody apple. Ruined everything. Pandora opened the box and set disaster upon the world. And now here we are, having the audacity to stand up to the jackasses. One of these days they’ll see that their power is nothing next to ours.” Her green eyes flashed, seeming to brighten in conjunction with her words. She continued: “But dearie, the only feminine power that men begin to understand is what lies between our legs. With what we have down there, we can control the universe if we so choose. Men will fall on the ground weeping and pleading before us, if it means getting a chance to play. And that is just one reason that the Sisterhood keeps our powers to ourselves.”

  “Well, I choose to keep what’s between my legs to myself,” said Sera. “I’m saving it for a rainy day.”

  “Or,” said Hedy, eyeing her with caution, “For the very, very, very special man that the Crones choose for your Bonding.”

  The Bonding was just what Sera had dreaded for years: the ceremony in which a young Aspirant who was coming of age spent one night with a man. He was chosen for her by the Crones, deemed worthy of the rite and worthy of her body.

  For centuries the Sisterhood had engaged in these ceremonies in order to come into their own, using an eager male to fulfill their needs. Of course, finding such a man had never been an issue; horny men were as common as grass in a field. But the Crones were selective and careful about their choices. Their methods remained mysterious to the younger members of the Sisterhood; all they knew was that the men whom they picked possessed a certain sort of power, like them. According to the Crones, the ceremony would help to enhance the Aspirant’s powers, to come to their full potential. A rite of passage for the women, and, they supposed, a pleasant evening for the men.

  But those males who were selected for the chance to participate needed to understand the rules and to obey them completely, or risk a penalty of the Crones’ choosing.

  The man in question dressed in a costume concealing his identity, the upper half of his face covered in a mask or a hood. The young woman had her way with him, giving her purity over to the goddess for one night (or sometimes for far less), offering herself to the man for a few moments of sexual pleasure. Often the ceremony lasted only a few minutes, but on occasion a woman found herself with a man who revelled in it, and, although most didn’t discuss it, many of the women found the act far more pleasant than they would admit.

  The two never saw one another again, of course. The men were chosen quietly by the Crones in secret meetings, somewhere in a far-off hiding place. And the men whom they chose were said to have abilities of their own, though only the Crones who’d selected them knew what these were.

  The men were given careful instructions not to seek out the women afterwards, to make themselves scarce and to forget what had occurred.

  Aside from those rare nights, the Sisterhood’s all-female community often felt like an open convent; no men, no talk of sex, of marriage. Apart fr
om one night in their lives, the Aspirants remained chaste for life.

  If one of them wished to desert, she was allowed to do so. But only at the sacrifice of her training. And she was encouraged not to develop them elsewhere, outside of the Sisterhood, instructed not to use them for harm or to employ them against the other Aspirants.

  Marriage, the Crones said, was a death sentence for one’s Gifts. A married woman was unlikely to have the time necessary to focus on her Craft, after all. She was a lost cause, best set free to spoil her own life.

  The loyal members were devoted to the goddess, to the elements and to their skills. And so each woman bonded only once, when she was young and fertile.

  The man chosen for her had to follow a set of rules in order to protect the Aspirant from any sort of growing attachment: as well as the mask which largely concealed his features, and he was not permitted to utter a word while he performed his task. The Aspirant, too, was supposed to stay quiet; not to ask questions or to extract any information that might encourage an emotional bond.

  That was the law, and breaking it was punishable by expulsion from the Sisterhood, if the Crones so chose. Generally speaking, the rules were obeyed by devoted young women.

  “A man would have to be awfully special for us to assign him the task of bonding with one such as you,” said Hedy. “And we’re coming close to making our choice; the Oracle has foretold it.” The “Oracle” was one of the Crones; a woman with a gift of foresight. Like Hedy, her gifts were waning in recent years, but vivid images still came to her on occasion.

  Hedy added, “The Ceremony will occur soon, Serafina. I hope you’ve prepared yourself.”

  Sera stiffened at the words. Prepared? Was she meant to shave “Enter Here” into her pubic hair? But she knew what Hedy meant: she needed to ready herself mentally. Accepting that a man would be inside her, and what was worse, or perhaps better, a man whose face she would never see.

  “You’re a special young woman,” continued Hedy. “So whomever we choose for you will need to be the most excellent and promising of men. But for now, you need to work on your gifts. You need a chance to develop a little before you can take on anyone, let alone the Guild.”

  “Agreed. And I want to take them on, I do. If they’re snatching women from the next town over, it’s only a matter of time before…”

  Sera didn’t want to continue; the thought of it was too painful. Having strangers taken was bad enough. Having members of the Sisterhood pulled from among their ranks would be too much. Already, a few had already been removed from the neighbouring woods; disappeared amidst a stream of rumours and stories of forcible marriage, though nothing had yet been proven.

  “For now, do not waste your energy on thoughts of conflicts that don’t yet exist. Stay home and practice your skills,” said Hedy. “Hone them as best you can. Every day, advance a little. Then, when the time comes for your powers to grow and flourish, it will be all the easier for you to throw everything you have at an enemy, if need be.”

  “You’re right,” sighed Sera. “My rune-crafting is coming along a little, at least.” With her right thumb, she drew an S-shape on her left palm, angular and jagged, reminding herself of her growing skills. This was Sigel: the rune of light, power, happiness. She would apply it to a stone later, to calm herself, and place it in a pocket on her skirt.

  “Has anything happened to the newest batch of abducted women yet?” Sera asked. “Or do we even know?”

  “I’ve heard that they’re convincing the townsfolk to try them for the Craft, like those others before them. They’re threatening to have them hanged unless they submit.”

  “Submit? To what?” asked Sera. This was the first she’d heard of the word.

  Hedy shifted her weight, her eyes veering to Karab. “Perhaps I chose the word poorly. My gift of Sight has betrayed me these last few years and I cannot see all of the details so clearly as I once did.” Her eyes moved to the side of the house, as though she were avoiding Sera’s own.

  The young Aspirant was often quite certain that Hedy knew more than she let on. But that was the old woman’s way; she let one know as much or as little as she wanted, and trying to extract anything more was like trying to wring water from a stone. And so she left it.

  “Unfortunately it is far too easy to take women,” Sera said, “Particularly those who haven’t got our gifts and can’t defend themselves. Speaking of which, I’m going to go back and look in on Circe. She seems to be improving, but I worry about her. She’s quite defenceless without me.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that she’s a little better, dear,” said Hedy, smiling. “She’ll keep improving, with your care. And one day before long you’ll be amazed at how many defences she has. That one will be a skilled Aspirant, mark my words. After she bonds, of course. Like her sister.”

  “No doubt. I suppose I’m just protective, and will be until that day comes. And I know how things work: until I come fully into my own, she doesn’t have a chance to develop her own skills. Sometimes I’m not so keen on being the older sister, with so much responsibility on my shoulders.”

  “You won’t have to wait long to relinquish some of that, Sera. Remember that your Bonding will occur soon. I realize that it’s not an idea that you relish, but we will likely need to seek out a partner for you before the moon’s next cycle. For the good of all the Sisterhood. As I’ve said, the Crones have already been searching for the right match. The only reason that it’s taking so long is that we know how important you are.”

  “I know that it will occur soon.” Sera let out a long breath, attempting to calm her nerves. It was such an unromantic concept, somehow. An arranged marriage for a night, minus the vows, minus the potential for anything beyond a fling with an anonymous man. Minus any chance at love. “Anyhow, I’ll see you later, Hedy. Good luck with your windows. Maybe if you swear at them some more they’ll start cooperating with you.”

  “I damned well hope so.”

  With Nyx wrapped around her shoulders, Sera turned and made her way back down the dirt path flanked by long grasses towards her green house, her eyes fixed on the gabled wooden building, sizing it up for structural weaknesses. “Why couldn’t you have been a giant hound, Nyx?” she said, stroking his back. “Then you could guard our place and eat anyone who threatened us.” The Familiar jutted his head out and looked into her eyes, emitting a rather too adorable squeak. “Right,” laughed Sera. “Not so cute as you, those hounds. You wouldn’t be allowed to let out those high-pitched sounds anymore and no one would give you scraps and pat your head if they worried that you’d take a hand off.”

  She wondered for a moment if she could forego the Bonding, to learn to control her skills in time for the invasion that would doubtless come in the next few weeks. To shield her home from the Guild, and to protect Circe. If she could be the first Aspirant ever to go without the aid of a man.

  * * *

  From the shelter of forest that circled Ealdor’s perimeter, a set of bright eyes watched her as she walked. They belonged to a man who had, for several minutes, been contemplating her vast array of gifts. He was no Guild member.

  But already he wanted to take her away from this place.

  Chapter 4

  Runes

  Circe was sleeping soundly when Sera entered her room. Her face, though pale, looked peaceful, her chest rising and falling in a calm, natural rhythm. All of it was a good sign, and Sera breathed a sigh of relief as she examined her sister from a distance. For now, at least, danger was at bay. But given the nature of what had been ailing Circe for days now, the beads of sweat and high fever might return at any moment.

  If the Guild was really advancing toward their territory, Sera would need her sister’s strength to help take them on, in addition to the Crones’ help. For now, rest was the second-best possible medicine. As added insurance though, perhaps a spell would be in order: one that wouldn’t draw attention from the outside world.

  A rune stone.

&nbs
p; She walked over to the small wooden desk which sat under one of the kitchen’s windows and pulled open the drawer, extracting one of the smooth, sleek dark grey ovals from within. Nyx took advantage of the moment to run down her arm and to curl up on the desk, eyeing her inquisitively. Serafina absentmindedly scratched his head, holding the stone in her right hand as she closed her eyes and stroked it with her thumb, making a form that looked like an angular capital B, a diagonal line emerging from its left side:

  Ui, the rune of healing.

  An image began to glow on the stone’s surface, fine lines of gold and red, spelling out the letter itself. Sera could feel its warmth in her palm and as she reopened her eyes she smiled, pleased with her creation as she turned and rose to make her way towards her sister’s room.

  Delicately she tucked the stone under Circe’s pillow, whispering a soft chant as she did so, trying her best to be convinced of her own skills. Hedy had warned her many times that though her powers were growing, they wouldn’t always be effective. The only certain way to bring herself to full strength was through the Bonding.

  To Sera, it was all a primitive act: sex with a man she didn’t know, didn’t love. Like two animals in a field, devoid of emotion. She wasn’t a brood mare, after all; she was a woman. Despite her loyalty to her Sisterhood, she had needs and standards, and the thought of having a man’s body pushed at her own had always struck her as invasive and unpleasant.

  But she wanted her powers more than anything. She wanted to live without fear, to find a way to pull herself out of this life of uncertainty and weakness, helpless in the case of attack.

  As Hedy had hinted, a suitable mate had not been found for her yet, though it sounded as though the Crones were on the verge of making a choice. It seemed almost as though they were in a hurry, in fact. A careful hurry.