Page 121 of A Time of Witches

“No.” Lilith gasped. “That means if you do this…”

Aunt Jacqueline paused and regarded Lilith. “I will lose my gifts, yes. Lilith, we are both bound to this linking charm. I have spent my entire life preparing for this moment.”

Lilith shook her head. “You can’t… I can’t let you…”

“I am the descendant of the man who did this to your family.” Aunt Jacqueline lifted her head like a queen. “I absolutely can and will.”

Asher looked between them. “So, you’re what…witches?”

“Daughters of the earth, as we were once called.” Aunt Jacqueline resumed walking. “But, yes, witches. Men stole that word from us when they persecuted and killed women who held even a modicum of power. Only in recent years have we begun to take back the word, to make it powerful. But women aren’t the only ones with the earth’s gifts…”

Asher slowed and Toby gazed up at him, snaggy underbite on full display.

Lilith gaped. “Do you mean…Asher too?”

“Oh, yes.” Aunt Jacqueline beamed proudly. “My nephew is of the earth as well. Males are not commonly chosen, and their powers are a fraction of ours. But when they are born into the line and their souls are sensitive and open, the earth shares its gifts.” She tossed a coy look over her shoulder. “Why do you think animals love you as much as they do?”

The sweep of birch trees rose before them and the mirth melted from Lilith’s mood, replaced at once by the weight of reality.

A delicate hand settled on Lilith’s shoulder, and she turned to find Aunt Jacqueline at her side. “You can do this.”

Lilith nodded.

Aunt Jacqueline gave Lilith a squeeze. “It’s dangerous.”

Lilith frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing is without sacrifice, as I said.” Aunt Jacqueline dropped her hand and trudged through the bracken toward the curtain of foliage. The scent of honeysuckle drew them like ambrosia. “Not only mine, but yours as well. Your power is strong enough to survive it.” She hesitated. “I think.”

Then she ducked beneath the heavy branches and slipped into the darkness beyond.

Lilith shared a shocked look with Asher, her heart racing with a shot of adrenaline.

He took her hands, and something sparked between them, something warm, pleasant, and altogether too enticing.

The kind of enticing that could make her want to stand there forever on a moonlit night in the forest, gazing into his deep blue eyes, forgetting the danger.

She wanted warmth, comfort.

He held her gaze. “You can do this.”

The way he looked at her reminded her of that night when they shared too much wine, when she thought he might kiss her. Her heart skipped. He leaned toward her, his eyes closing.

“I can’t do this if you aren’t both here,” Aunt Jacqueline called out in a singsong voice from the other side of the tree line. “Yes, Wimbleton, I know I’m too old to do this enchantment myself.”

Lilith opened her eyes and found Asher grinning at her like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Aunt Jacqueline is killing your game,” Lilith murmured.

He gave a sheepish smile. “To be fair, I’m not sure I’ve ever had ‘game.’”

Regardless, Lilith appreciated the moment of levity in a situation with too much weight. She eased through the branches and emerged in the clearing. The moon was darker than the night before, as if someone had scooped a section away.

Aunt Jacqueline sat before a small campfire with Lord Wimbleton the third happily curled in her lap while she fiddled with a bowl containing several items. Some Lilith recognized, like rosemary and thyme and…

“Is that elder wood?” Lilith asked, referring to the sticks.

Aunt Jacqueline nodded and patted the ground beside her. “Yes, an elder tree whose permission I requested.”