I turned and nearly jumped out of my skin. Gareth was standing a few feet away, holding a long, heavy-looking sword in his hand. His back was to me, and he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and some loose sweatpants. The sword in his hands was long and curved, the blade a deep copper color.
I stared as Gareth began to move, flinging the blade around his head as though it weighed nothing. He lunged forward, striking the air, and the sword moved so gracefully it might have been a natural extension of his arm.
I think my eyes may have bugged out of my head as I watched Gareth attack his invisible opponent with a skill and ease that bespoke long years of practice. I gasped in sheer admiration and astonishment as he executed a maneuver I’d only ever seen in movies.
At the sound, Gareth whirled around and darted forward, the sword aimed at my chest.
I screeched and threw myself backward, landing hard on my ass. I was more shocked than hurt, but my entire body was shaking as I stared up at my uncle.
“Dammit, Lainey, I could’ve killed you!” Gareth roared, moving the blade away from my chest. He wiped the sweat from his brow and reached down to help me to my feet. “What are you doing down here?”
“What am I doing down here?” I dusted the dirt from the back of my pants. “What am I doing down here?” I threw my arms out. “I don’t even know where the hell I am!”
Gareth let out a long sigh and shifted from one foot to the other as if he wasn’t sure what to say next. “Serena told me—” he started, then shook his head. “No, let’s start with the easy stuff first. You’re in the training room.” His casual use of the term—as if he’d said ‘grocery story’ or ‘library’—sent a surge of anger through me.
“Oh, the training room?” I glared at him. “Well, that explains everything.”
“Look, I know you’re upset—”
“Upset?” My voice was rising, shrill and punctuated. “Now, why would I be upset? Oh, I know! Maybe it’s because I just found out that I’m a witch—a fact that you conveniently forgot to tell me for almost seventeen years! Or it could be that I just got attacked by a freaking tree. And let’s not forget the fact that my house has a hidden dungeon in it where my uncle likes to show off his secret ninja skills and throw around a sword!” I tilted my head in mock thought. “Nope, can’t see any reason at all why I should be upset.”
“A ninja?” Gareth scoffed.
“Fine. Warlock.” I threw my hands in the air. “Whatever.”
The smile faded from Gareth’s face, and he blinked a few times before he spoke again. “Come on. I’ll explain everything.” He walked over to a pair of chairs near one of the weapon racks. I huffed and followed him, plunking myself down in one of the seats.
After he had wiped down his sword with a soft cloth, Gareth hung the weapon in its rightful place on the wall and sat opposite me. “Okay,” he said, his face serious. “Where do you want me to start?”
“How come you never told me the truth about Mom?”
Gareth sighed. “I was planning to tell you. I had it all thought out in my head, what I was going to say and do, but I could never seem to find the right time.”
“The right time?” I clenched my hands into fists. “You should’ve told me when I was old enough to understand. I deserved to know the truth about my mother, about what happened to her and my dad.” My voice cracked, but the words kept coming. “I trusted you.”
Gareth cleared his throat, visibly trying to keep his emotions at bay. “I’m sorry, Lainey. I was just trying to do what I felt was right.”
His face was pained, and his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Children don’t come with an instruction manual, and in your case I didn’t know what to do because I had to keep you safe. That was everyone’s priority. I let that stand in the way of my judgment. Telling you would have been the best thing, I know that now.” He wiped a hand across his face. “But I never meant to hurt you or break your trust. I’m so sorry.”
The remorse in Gareth’s eyes hit me harder than I thought it would. My throat constricted, making it hard to swallow. “What about telling me I was a witch? Were you just gonna wait until I woke up levitating or turned my English teacher into a lawn gnome?”
“No, of course not.”
I fidgeted in my seat, fighting the urge to scream. “You can’t say ’of course not.’ Serena told me about the pulses, how your cloaking spells are failing. Were you planning to wait until something bad happened to finally clue me in?”
Gareth sighed and put his head in his hands. “I was wrong not to tell you, to keep you in the dark about who you are, but this life isn’t easy. There is danger everywhere—people who would stop at nothing to harm you just for who you are, what you can do. I guess I just wanted you to have as normal a life as possible for as long as possible.” He sat up straight in his chair. “Does that make sense?”
“It does,” I replied. “But you should’ve told me.”
“You’re right. I should have.”
A few minutes passed, and then Gareth leaned forward. “It’s true, then. The Continuance?”
I nodded. “Apparently. Although Serena doesn’t really know why Josephine established the bond. She said it’s extremely rare.”
“It is,” Gareth confirmed. “And I think I might know the answer to that.” He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. “What did Serena tell you about her—about Josephine DuCarmont?”
I shrugged. “Nothing, really. Only that we’re related, and that the DuCarmonts were a very powerful family of witches. That’s why Mom was . . . murdered.” I swallowed. It was still hard to wrap my head around. “Because she was a DuCarmont.”
Gareth’s face was as serious as I’d ever seen it. “Yes, but that’s not the only reason.” He glanced around the room, almost as if he were afraid of someone listening. His next words were hardly louder than a whisper. “Lainey, she was killed because she was the Keeper.”
“The Keeper?”
Gareth nodded. “Yes, the Keeper of the Grimoire.”
“The what? Gareth, I don’t—”
“A grimoire is basically a textbook of magic. It’s specific by coven and contains all of the spells, charms, and rituals performed by those witches. Each coven has one, and the books themselves are very powerful talismans of magic. To keep them from falling into the wrong hands, a Keeper is destined to protect it, to keep it safe. The more powerful the coven, the more valuable the grimoire would be.”
Gareth took a deep breath and continued. “Josephine DuCarmont was the Keeper of the Grimoire. And like her, your mother was as well.”
I didn’t know what to say. I stared at Gareth, trying to wrap my head around the new information. “So Mom was killed because of a book?”
“Yes,” Gareth breathed out. “But Lainey, you have to understand, the Grimoire isn’t just any old book. The DuCarmonts were the most powerful witches of our realm, and their grimoire contained magic more potent than any other in existence. Power like that—well, let’s just say the DuCarmonts had their fair share of enemies, people who would stop at nothing to get their hands on the book.”