Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Lorne smiled. “And your name, friend?”
“I’m William Corey, youngest son of—no, apologies. Now the sole surviving son of the late Kingston Corey.”
“Your father passed away?”
“Sadly yes, here, waiting for my brother and me to return from the war. The only saving grace was that my mother passed five years ago now, as being here without us would have been hard for her.”
“I’m sorry you lost them.”
“Thank you. I miss my family, and coming home to this barren place has helped nothing.”
“Barren?” I repeated before I could think about it. “This land?”
He shook his head. “I wish I could offer you food, but all I have is water. If the good people in town had no concern for me, I’d surely perish.”
When he said the last part, he shuddered in fear, as though what he’d uttered could actually come to pass, giving himself away.
“Are you kidding me?” I stood up, the bite in my tone obvious.
Startled, he took a step back.
“It’s because you know nothing about Corvus that you can’t even lie properly,” I spat out, disgusted. “Discard your glamour and show me your true self.”
“I have no idea what you’re—”
“Now!” I roared at him.
He tried for disbelief for a mere moment before he threw his arms up in surrender and then ran his hands through his thick hair that changed, before our eyes, from deep auburn to a golden blond. His clothes altered as well, and it was hard to hold on to any fear when he looked like he was supposed to be at a Renaissance faire.
“Not what I was expecting,” Lorne said.
“It’s probably from where he last was,” I advised him.
“Unless…are you being punished?” Lorne asked him, which was a bit ballsy.
“Oh, you’re funny,” Giles snarled, lifting his hand toward my husband at the same time I knelt and put both of mine on the floor.
“You’re a much stronger witch than I am,” I told him, “but the cottage has never been yours. I don’t know how you moved us in time, but I suspect this part is nothing more than another glamour.”
“Xander Corey, you should tremble before—”
“It’s going to really hurt if I remind my home who I am, because when you’re expelled, I understand the magic actually rips through you first and then, second, tears apart the illusion, both of which will probably be quite painful.”
He grimaced, exhaled sharply, then lowered his hand. “How did you know?”
“There has never been a time when the stores of food on Corvus were not full for the long winter. Even those with the smallest traces of magic, like William Corey, if I’m remembering right, could take the bounty from the land to feed himself and others.”
He grunted.
“Since the time when the land was originally claimed and became Corvus, warded and bound to our family, it has provided for not only us, but for our neighbors and the town.”
“Despite so many coming after us with fire and pitchforks because of the scourge of the witch in their midst,” he said snidely, “we still provided.”
I squinted at him. “You provided nothing. Ever. And you’re confusing your history, friend. Pockets of people have hated our family over the years, and still do presently, but all in all, in Osprey, we’ve been seen as healers, neighbors, and friends to the people in this town. Both kith and kin. Perhaps you need to sit in our library and educate yourself.”
Crossing his arms, he tsked.
“Where is William Corey?” I asked him, concerned that since Giles was here instead, that perhaps he’d hurt my ancestor.
“In his time on another plane with his wife he brought back from Boston with him. I don’t recall her name.”
“Elspeth.”
“As though it even matters.”
“It matters to me. They’re my family, and losing any single one means my grandfather wouldn’t be born, and that would be a tragedy.”
“The mage,” he muttered.
“The good and powerful mage,” I corrected him. “He was a great man.”
“As though that matters either.”
I shook my head at him.
“Oh, do get up off the floor,” he groused at me. “I won’t hurt your precious husband.”
“Unseal the glamour. I would have Corvus as it actually was in…1799? Just on the cusp of the new century?” I said with flourish.
“Your cheerfulness is tedious.”
I scoffed. “This, what you’re showing us, is from much further back in the timeline of the cottage. In William’s time, there was no lock.”
“You know your history.”
“I know the cottage. I’m not as well read as I should be, but I’m guessing this is twelfth century? It’s a bit too spartan for William’s time. I mean, where’s the furniture?”
“You’re as annoying as your grandfather.”
I grinned at him as I stood up. “That’s a really nice thing to say.”
He huffed out a frustrated breath, waved a hand, and there was the warm cottage, changed from what Lorne and I were used to, yes, not a modern convenience in the mix, but not the barren stone room it had been moments before. There was still no sunroom, but there was a blanket chest in the living room made from pine, which I knew because it sat, in my time, in the bedroom I shared with Lorne. In the cottage of William’s time, Lorne and I were surrounded by a settee and three chairs, as well as a card table that had been lost to time. The furnishings were not lavish; it was a country cottage after all.