Spring Rain (The Witchling #4)(36)

You are disposable. But your baby … now I need her. Her soul is too young to fight me. I can displace it. Become her. Rise again.

Terror shot through her. “You swore to spare her.”

I swore not to hurt her, and I won’t. I need her alive.

Fury and desperation snapped inside her. Dawn smashed her fists into the wall, screaming at him, unable to break free of the place he had trapped her.

She beat the walls until she was too tired to raise a hand then rolled onto her back, staring into the darkness. Of all the plans and hope for the future she had made, the one she couldn’t see past was what happened to her child when Bartholomew seized control of her. Beck and Morgan no longer mattered.

“I won’t let you,” she whispered hoarsely.

You can’t stop me, and I’m going to destroy the only person who can.

“No. Beck won’t let you.”

Farewell, Dawn.





Chapter Fourteen


“Next time, tell me how long this takes in advance,” Beck said with a grunt. For four days, he’d shown up at dawn and disappeared into a haze of Light and earth magick only to emerge close to midnight, starving and oblivious to the passage of time. Earth’s grumbling warmth kept the chill of a spring night from reaching him. It had rained for two days straight, and the earth smelled damp while the faint patter of rain filled the air. Soaked, Beck turned his face towards the dark sky and let the cool rain trickle down his features.

The utter absorption into his task kept his thoughts from returning to Morgan like they did when he wasn’t immersed in the task of creating a shield around the Light in case Dawn tried something with or without the stone.

I did not know how long it would take, Sam replied.

Beck glanced at the furry creature. “Aww, Sam. You look adorable, like a wet puppy.”

The yeti gave a tired laugh.

Beck raised his hand over the newly created barrier, satisfied when an arc of Light followed his movement. “This is amazing. This feels more natural.”

We extended the safeguards from the ground into the sky. But Beck, the shield is two fold. It will protect the Light but it will also prevent it from growing.

“It’s temporary, Sam,” Beck said firmly. I hope. He was afraid to admit the truth, that he had no idea what was going to happen. “Sam, can I ask you something about this?”

Sam twisted his shaggy head towards him.

“If … something happens to me, will this protect the Light until the next Master or Mistress of Light is born?”

Beck, it will not come to that.

“We don’t know that. This is personal as much as professional,” Beck said with a forced smile. “If it takes my life to appease Dawn, then I will feel better knowing my Light witchlings have a refuge.”

It will, yes.

“Good.” Beck drew a deep breath. “Good.”

I am aware of the thoughts you do not voice, too.

Beck nodded, knowing this but unable to speak some of what went through his mind. It wasn’t only his life he was thinking about, but Morgan’s as well. If sacrificing himself would save the Light or someone he loved, it was a no brainer, as long as the Light and Light witchlings were protected. “I just want everyone to be okay,” he murmured. “It doesn’t seem like that’s possible.”

Dawn cannot be salvaged. They were the harshest words Sam had ever expressed, and Beck looked up in surprise.

“There has to be a way.”

When Bartholomew is welcomed into someone’s mind, the mind is his.

“Decker beat him.”

Decker is the Master of Dark. He was bred to handle the Dark in a way no one else can.

“What about my … the baby?”

That answer is not known to me. A child cannot be born Dark, so it would be reasonable he could not hurt your child until after her birth. But I have never heard of such a situation. He has Dark magick and a much older knowledge than I have. He might know a way.

It was a relief of sorts that Sam suspected it wasn’t possible, but it also meant there was no recourse Beck could take to stop Dawn without hurting the baby she carried. It was the conundrum he’d spent many sleepless nights struggling to figure out only to come to the came conclusion.

There was no option to save his daughter without saving Dawn, and Dawn wanted him, the Light and everything else destroyed.

“I don’t know what to do, Sam,” he whispered, distraught. “I mean, there’s nothing I can do.”

No, there is not. Not directly at least. You can help everyone by continuing to work with the Light, by accepting it as part of you.

“It seems really fragile. Look at this.” Beck pointed to the ground. “It’s so tiny of a space. All the good in the world. Right here. And the Dark is everywhere else.”

The Light is more powerful than you think. You need to have faith in it. The Dark fears it for a reason.

“I’m the damn Master of Light! How can I be so clueless and helpless?”

You are neither. Sam chuckled. This crossroads is complicated. There is a trial involved, that of the woman who could become your counterbalance. No other witchling’s trial would interfere with your duties otherwise. The counterbalance of a Master or Mistress must be stronger, tougher than a normal witchling, and so his or her trial is far more difficult than normal and often comes at a time when the Dark is rising.