BREAKING SHADOWS (Shadows Book 1)

Chapter 21

By sunset, Gran still hadn't told me Rafe was coming back. Arden had given me a firm dressing down for not telling him it was my birthday and he'd promptly dashed out of the cottage. After pushing the same piece of chocolate cake round my plate for the hundredth time, I abandoned it and went to my room.

Laying down on my bed, I stared at the ceiling. I could access the Iron Moon archives, I knew I could. If there was a way to draw out the Iron Moon witches then I could slip in, get the name and be out in no time. I wasn't stupid. It wouldn't be as easy as that, but the plan could be. Anything else we could deal with.

Nearing midnight, I sat at the dressing table in my room, Arden curled the length of my golden hair and topped it with a circlet of small autumnal coloured flowers he'd grown out of the palm of his hand. It looked like a crown. He whistled at his finished creation, taking in the knee-length dress and coordinating taupe ankle boots he'd bought me for my birthday. The sleeves were a little too long.

"You look beautiful," said Arden.

I squirmed at the compliment, feeling the blush on my cheeks. "Thank you. As do you, always."

Heading downstairs, we found Gran already in front of the fireplace. Flames danced and crackled, heating our cheeks. She held a jug in her hands. It was nothing special, just an old ceramic one which Gran used to display the wildflowers I sometimes picked for her.

"Are you two ready?" Gran smiled.
Arden and I looked at each other, nodding in unison.
"Good. Then let's begin. On this, the final day of October, we douse the flames and stifle the light so we may welcome the darker half of the year." With those words, Gran poured the water over the fire. It sizzled and hissed, fighting to burn until it suffocated.
Together, we walked into the centre of the village. Sticks, twigs and branches had already been gathered into a huge mound. The coven had formed on the village green, waiting for us. Their faces were sombre and respectful on this special night. Hopefully they kept in mind those missing witches who wouldn't be spending Samhain with their coven.
"You're here. Finally," said Mrs Horton, puffing out her cheeks. Only she would have the nerve to scold her High Witch for being late. "Come, come. We're all ready." She ushered Gran before the mountain of gathered wood and kindling and thrust a burning torch in her hand.
"Yes, yes. Thank you Ariadne," Gran waved her away and addressed the coven. "Tonight, when the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead is thinnest, we remember those whose souls have passed over. We remember because they lived and they live because we remember and so their light may never be diminished. The candles if you please, Riley."
Starting with Gran first, I began handing out plain, white candles. One for each witch. Gran took the candle in her hand and held the wick towards the fire. When the flame had taken, she cupped the wax stem in both hands. "Bryn Archer," and pushed the base of the candle into the soft ground around the bonfire.
One by one, each resident of Valestone took a candle and lit it from the communal flame. Fawn, her brother and her sister took instruction from their mother. Their father, the only non-witch in the coven, hovered by her side. Names were spoken aloud, a mixture of whispers and booming voices, however best they honoured their dead.
Arden had chosen a quieter spot around the other side of the bonfire, having taken two candles for himself. He'd not taken the first two his fingers grazed, but searched and examined them for any imperfections until he chose the two he was happiest with.
My own candle was stubbier than the rest with a chip out of the bottom, but I didn't mind. The bloody thing only melted anyway. I held my candle to my lips briefly, tasting the smooth wax before lighting it and pushed it into the earth. Her name left my mouth in a whisper. "Celeste Darkmore." The flames gave a little dance as if murmuring a distant reply.
I could see Arden a little further away, head bowed. I compared our situations. Did I fare better because I'd been young when my parents had been taken? Too young to understand what it truly meant or was Arden the most blessed because of the extra years he knew their love? There was no answer, just two parentless teenagers stood around a bonfire on Samhain.