Fantasyland: Midnight Soul Part 40

"Please, no offense, my sister, but we both know you are no mother. And you bear no responsibility for me. I brought myself to this world and it was my decision to stay. You had nothing to do with any of that."

At Circe's mention of Valentine and "mother" in the same sentence, strangely, disturbingly, and lastly, pleasantly, visions of little girls with lovely blue eyes and thick blonde hair danced in Valentine's head.

Her trifle, who somehow she'd allowed to turn into her companion, had lovely blue eyes and thick blond hair.

He'd once been simply a body.

Now he was...

Not.

Merde.

"And we both know with my magic restored, especially having that and being in this world where it isn't often wielded, I need no one taking care of me," Circe continued.

"Is there something you don't wish me to see?" Valentine asked, forcing her mind from her thoughts back to their conversation.

"I simply don't wish the intrusion, and I have that right, as you know."

She did.

Bother.

"Though, I might be moved to stop blocking you if I knew why you were suddenly watching me," Circe went on with her own lie.

No witch, or non-witch for that matter, liked someone interfering in their lives.

Certainly not observing them.

It would not do to tell her she was watching in order to start meddling, doing this to magically maneuver a meeting with the future love Circe was destined to have, her aim to see them married, creating children, doing such enjoyably and living happily ever after.

Circe was fiercely independent, something of which Valentine approved, though the reasons life had given her to make her bent on protecting this trait at all costs was something Valentine despised.

A history where she had nothing like it. No independence. Not even free will.

Nearly her entire life she'd lived imprisoned and enslaved by a despotic ruler who took advantage of a beautiful young witch and her powers in every way he could.

G.o.ddess, she hoped this world's Dax Lahn could handle such a challenge.

Valentine's mind wandered to the fact that, interestingly, his first name was Dax in this world, Lahn his last, proof the Dax in the other world would hold his kingly t.i.tle as prophesied until he pa.s.sed it to his son on his death.

This meant the Circe and Dax of this world would likely name their son the same.

Lovely.

"Valentine?" Circe called and Valentine focused on her again, feeling her frame slightly tighten.

She'd just gone sentimental.

Hoping.

Caring.

Worrying.

And now being sentimental.

She s.h.i.+vered in revulsion.

Another s.h.i.+ver of revulsion followed at the very thought that she'd have to give up magical meddling and do something a mundane human would need to do in this situation when magic was not an option.

Fix the two of them up.

How revolting.

"It would seem you're holding an entire conversation to which I'm not privy since you're having it silently with yourself," Circe observed.

At this, Valentine stood, dropping the cat gracefully to her feet as she did.

"Franka has decided to come to our world to start her life anew," she declared, and went on further, sharing about Franka's growing connection with Noc and the friends.h.i.+ps she was making in the other world.

Circe looked astonished and moved to her couch, seating herself on the arm, her cat slinking elegantly to her momma, jumping on the seat and rubbing against Circe's thigh.

"This surprises me," Circe stated.

"I see that. I have, of course, shared with you all that has occurred and the knowledge she's our sister. Thus this decision pleases me. She's also decided to accept my training. Unlike you," Valentine stressed, "it seems she has no qualms with using her magic for enjoyable purposes once she learns to wield it."

"I've had my magic manipulated nearly all my life, Valentine," Circe reminded her. "I like it to be my own, to use it when I will, how I will."

"That's understandable," Valentine murmured, annoyed to have to concede that point.

"I'm pleased she's made this decision too," Circe said. "This is an odd realm, but it's a good one to make a new start. Very easy to get lost in the sheer numbers of people, and because of this you can focus on the person you wish to be."

"There are nearly the same numbers in both worlds," Valentine reminded her. "With scant variation."

"I've a.s.sessed that my old world has nearly twice the land ma.s.s as this one, which allows much more s.p.a.ce for people to spread out," Circe returned.

Valentine knew this to be true.

She didn't concede that point.

She stated, "She's awaiting her sister-in-law's safe delivery of a new child. I cannot a.s.sess when this will be, but calling up the woman and the little she's showing, my a.s.sumption would be that this will happen in five to six months' time."

"I will welcome her and a.s.sist her in any way whenever she arrives, my sister."

"That's good to hear," Valentine replied.

"This is not why you're watching me."

Valentine tilted her head. "Do you think for even a second I do it for malicious reasons?"

Circe grinned. "I think you think you're quite wicked when you have a soul of emerald but a heart of pure gold." When Valentine opened her mouth to object to that ridiculousness, Circe lifted a hand, kept grinning and continued speaking. "Don't deny it. Actions speak louder than words, my green witch, and with all of yours, you could talk, as they say in this world, until you're blue in the face, or green," her grin got bigger, "and I wouldn't believe you."

Valentine lifted her hands, declaring, "I feel this visit is at an end."

Before she could conjure her magic, Circe spoke on.

Gently.

"I'm happy, my sister, please know that with whatever your golden heart is speaking to you to do."

Valentine halted her spell that would spirit her back to the other world and regarded the witch closely.

Then she stated, "You will be happier."

And at that juncture, before Circe could open her mouth to speak, Valentine finished casting her spell and disappeared.

When the hour had struck midnight in Lunwyn, Valentine appeared at the appointed place seeing a sleigh close by, four horses. .h.i.tched to it, blankets covering the steeds' coats to protect them in the cold, her two compatriots already there and waiting.

As she'd asked, Lavinia had brought their charge.

The witches had decided to perform Franka's ceremony close to an adela tree. It was just a sapling, but its power could still be felt and its place in this world for anyone with magic was sacred.

Franka stood beside the adela sapling wearing a glorious cloak of Prussian-blue fine wool lined with ermine, her hands encased in blue kid gloves, no cap on her head to cover her glorious hair that had a healthy sheen, even in the moonlight.

And there was no anxiety in her eyes. Her shoulders were straight, her chin up.

Valentine sensed no fear from her.

She also sensed no excitement.

This would change.

"Are you ready, my sister-witch?" Valentine asked, moving through the snow toward her, her own green cloak lined with red fox keeping her warm.

"Of course," Franka replied.

Valentine stopped close and cast her gaze to Lavinia, who was moving to them. She waited for her fellow witch to arrive and catch her eyes.

When she did, Valentine nodded to her.

Lavinia returned this gesture.

They both looked to Franka.

"Take my hand in one of yours, Lavinia's in the other," she ordered.

Without hesitation, Franka did as told.

Valentine felt her power through her touch and realized, even if she'd already sensed it was substantial, she'd been in error at just how substantial it was.

This power Franka Drakkar held had not simply fed on itself and grown over the years with no use.

She, too, like Valentine (as well as Lavinia) was a legacy. And from what Valentine could feel, it was not one or two generations in Franka's line who had practiced the craft, but centuries of them.

This was superb news. So much so, it made Valentine smile and look to Lavinia, who she knew felt it too, not only because it would be impossible to miss, but also from the answering smile on the witch's face.

"Would you care to share what you find so pleasing?" Franka drawled.

Both of them turned back to her. "Your power is already substantial."

"And you can tell that how?" Franka asked.

"Do you not feel it?" Lavinia queried softly, and Valentine knew she squeezed her hand when Franka looked down at their two hands clasped together. "You must feel it," Lavinia prompted.

The tip of Franka's tongue came out and touched her lower lip briefly before she turned her gaze to Lavinia and answered, "I feel it. From you," her gaze went to Valentine, "and much more from you."

"We feel it too," Lavinia told her. "From each other...and you."

"You come from a long line of witches," Valentine put in, this gaining her Franka's attention, and her altered expression showing unconcealed surprise. "The last, not a very good one. Sadly, she didn't share this proud heritage with you so that you both could enjoy the satisfaction of having such, ma sorciere. But as you stand with two of your own with the same n.o.ble lineage, we will teach you exactly this."

"I've never been proud of anything to do with my n.o.ble lineage," Franka shared.

"This is because your lineage was superior as self-decreed, not n.o.ble, save the magic it offers the Freys and Drakkars it produces," Valentine explained.

Franka nodded her understanding of this then asked, "Will all future sessions such as this be conducted in the dead of night, thus the worst of any day's chill, and carry on a good deal of time? If so, I'll be forewarned for them and dress warmer."

Valentine had the odd desire to laugh out loud.

Oh, but she liked this witch. She liked her very much.

"She's impatient," Lavinia noted with kindred humor.

"I'm cold," Franka returned but took a breath and went on, her voice lower, her gaze going between them, direct and steady. "And when this is done, I can be done with her."

She could indeed.

And that should be seen to immediately.

"Then let us delay no longer," Valentine decreed.

She looked to Lavinia and nodded.

When she did, Lavinia turned her gaze to Franka.

"Magic is nature. Nature is magical," she began to enlighten their charge. "What you have flowing through you, millennia ago, was drawn from the earth. From the sky. The air, the dirt. From the seas, the winds, the rains, the rays of the sun. Our originators wors.h.i.+pped these things, walked, breathed, sowed, all with reverence. The elements shared their beneficence for this veneration, offering them power, allowing them to manipulate the magicks they celebrated, to internalize them, to utilize them. And more, they strengthened them through sisterhood, rewarding loyalty, building them along magical lines, enhancing power when used amongst other sisters, communing with them."