“We should hold a séance and ask her directly.” If only the solution were that easy. Tears welled up in her eyes. How she ached for her mother’s warm presence. Jasper’s arms around her were comforting, but they weren’t maternal ones that could eliminate all her worries with one hug.
It seemed the familial similarities between mother and daughter went far deeper than bone structure and colouring. They also shared Elemental blood. How could her mother have been connected to such a marvellous and terrifying world and not tell her only daughter? Keeping her ignorant of potential danger was no protection. Jasper was right, her mother must have had a reason for keeping her hidden and unaware. Dawn wondered if some larger tragedy had touched their lives, and her mother hid her only child from the repercussions. It was something Dawn could imagine doing, if she were ever blessed with a child.
“I have vowed to protect it and it will protect us,” she whispered.
“What will protect you?” Jasper lifted a finger that had been wrapped in a sliver of tendril. The plant rose up like a puppet having its string pulled.
“Something silly my mother used to say about a paperweight.” Another thought buzzed into Dawn’s head as a raven flew to the trees beside them. Her mother had been fit and healthy, and partook of what appeared to be a normal life. Why did she not have Dawn’s delicate heart?
“Do all Meidh share the same traits and abilities?” She had told no one of her weak condition, and as she had improved here, perhaps it would become a moot point. She just needed to become accustomed to the physical labour and the tiredness would dissipate. What she would give for a normal lifespan, even if it paled in comparison to the centuries that Jasper had at his disposal.
“No. The fifth element has many different manifestations. Quintessence is said to be the element that created the universe and all of us. From our observations, each Meidh possesses a particular trait in such a high concentration that it becomes a type of power. Often their name reflects that trait.”
“Dawn doesn’t reflect an affinity for gardening. I should have been named Rose or Violet.”
“You need to take a larger view. Dawn is the beginning of something new. Is that not a type of creation?” He wove a pattern on the back of her hand that was replicated by the tiny vine on the other. Except his motion produced a slow heat in her body that made her shift in his embrace.
“Mother’s name was Verity, and father called her his truth taster. She used to say that lies were sour in her mouth but the truth was sweet. Do you think that was her ability?” The vine had stopped its progress. Perhaps they had worn it out with such continued contact, or it was frustrated by the fabric of their clothing. If there was naked skin-to-skin, how would it spread over them?
“Verity means truth, so I would say that yes, that was your mother’s Meidh trait.” Jasper also stilled his movement and laid his larger hand flat over hers. “I will contact the Lord Warder of the Eastern District and see if he knew of your mother and any fight that may have touched your family. Until then, let us try a more ordinary approach: Did your father have any enemies?”
Dawn laughed. Her father barely ever had cross words with anyone. Her parents had a gentle and quiet marriage, and Dawn imagined his business dealings were similarly subdued. “He was a book keeper. His type don’t have enemies apart from columns of numbers.”
Jasper made a noise in his throat as he thought. “Many a family has been ruined by columns of numbers. Book keepers also have access to confidential financial information about businesses and investments.”
“Investments,” she whispered. One word and horror of events crashed over her. Dawn’s head slumped forward as fresh tears stained her eyes.
“You’ve remembered something?” Jasper leaned forward to shelter her body within the confines of his as she cried.
With a few deep breaths she brought her grief under control. She lifted her head and wiped her face on the hem of her skirt. “The day of the accident, Father had been called to an urgent meeting at his office. Mr Stevens – he’s the family solicitor – said it was about a rather large investment. Father received news the business dealing had failed. He had borrowed against the house, thinking to secure our future, and instead lost everything.”
“Money is often a motivator that drives men’s actions. It could be Soarers were not involved at all. Would you allow me to make enquiries with Mr Stevens?”
She wanted to scream NO! Let the dead lie undisturbed. No good could come of dredging up that horrid day. But Lettie’s words took root in her mind and burrowed deep. If there was any grain of truth, then she owed it to her parents to find out. What if another hand had plotted their deaths?
Vengeance, her mind whispered.
She made a decision and sat a little steadier in his embrace. “Yes, dispatch your ravens and let us see what we can uncover.”
A laugh rumbled through his chest. “I shall use the post for Mr Stevens. Solicitors don’t often communicate by raven.”
So many questions to be asked! How would she bide her time until answers arrived? She followed Mouse’s line of sight to the particular dragonfly that hunted over the lake. The entire estate deserved to experience the sense of peace that was found in this one spot. Not just the estate, but those who lived here.
“What of Ava? Will you tell me who or what she is and how she took control of the estate? I will no longer be kept ignorant, and I cannot restore balance if I do not know anything of my opponent. Lettie said she had wanted to scare me away because it’s too dangerous.”
Jasper’s chest heaved in a sigh behind her. “Yes it is dangerous, but I will protect you.”
Jasper couldn’t save Julian. Would she lose this fight? Not so long ago she had lain on her bed and waited for death’s embrace to claim her, but now she would wield any weapon at her disposal to increase her time on this earth.
“Is she alive and living in the hermitage?” Dawn asked.
Jasper stroked circles over Dawn’s inner wrist with his thumb, and a tendril of the vine transcribed the action into her skin. “She is alive, of sorts. She gave up what she used to be decades ago, after Julian died. Now she is the embodiment of the rot feeding on this estate. As to where she resides, who knows. It could be the hermitage, a shepherd’s shack, or under a tree.”
“The vine is hers.” Dawn imagined Ava as a witch and the vine her familiar.
“Yes. As it spreads, it destroys those areas of the garden that it touches, but I have been able to limit her to this estate so the village remains unaffected.”
“Did grief change her?” The sickness in the estate could be the reflection of a woman consumed by grief for the man she loved. Rather than a true malevolent spirit, she might be like the ghost in a story that needs help to move on to the next realm. She could be healed. Then Dawn remembered the look in Hector’s startled eyes as he hushed her and told her never to mention that name by the maze.
A shorter laugh vibrated through Jasper. “I doubt Ava ever truly loved him. She used Julian and then abandoned him once she had what she wanted. Julian and Lettie were ambushed, and I believe Ava set the trap.”
Dawn couldn’t imagine what the other woman valued so highly that she had sent a good man to his death and perverted nature with the black vines strangling the garden. High-born women pursued titles and comfortable livings. But Ava and Julian never wed, and it appeared she roamed wild on the estate and possibly sheltered in the hermitage. If she hadn’t seduced Julian for wealth or position, what form of greed possessed her? “What does she want?”
Jasper traced a finger up the nape of Dawn’s neck and pushed a loose curl back into her bun. As his hand went upward, a tingle descended along her spine. “His essence and Elemental power. Ava sucked Julian dry of his longevity, which left him vulnerable to the attack by the Hamiltons.”