Temple of Indra's Witch Read online

  Sandra narrowed her eyes but otherwise ignored me. “I could see how Elena was seducing my husband so I made her a deal. I allowed her to sleep with my husband as long as she provided me with a son. She agreed with one caveat. I should have known then that it was all a trick. She demanded she keep the baby if it was a girl. The following month we figured out that we were both pregnant. I gave birth to a son, Costin. You know him as Cullen.”

  My mind went to the night they’d had dinner at our house. Sandra had been so fascinated by Cullen. Thinking back, I realized she’d called him Costin a time or two and now I knew why. She’d even mentioned her son…what had she said…that he’d been stolen from her.

  Sandra paused and I leaned against the wall. My feet were far from steady. “You’re seriously telling me that Cullen was your son.”

  Sandra nodded, “And Alana was your mother and my enemy.”

  “What?” My mind spun with the possibility.

  “That’s right. Elena is Alana and—it gets more twisted—my husband Vilhem was none other than your Liam.”

  I took a step back and leaned against the wall. This was more than I could bear. “Liam could not be my father…that makes no sense.”

  “It does to me. Liam loved you more than anything and anyone in the world. He was obsessed with you and your mother and he ignored poor Costin.”

  “Cullen?” I clarified.

  She looked at me, crossly, “Yes, Cullen.” Her jaw set tight, the muscles in her neck drew taut, as though she were really there, reliving the memory. She clenched her fists. “I grew more and more bitter with every passing year and finally, when my son turned sixteen, I set a plan in motion to get rid of the two of you once and for all. My mother was on her deathbed. The whole village was touched with illness and the Priest threatened a witch hunt, announcing loudly to anyone who would listen that the illness was the devils work. The town was in an uproar, they were starving and upset with my step-father—he ran things in the absence of the castle’s real owner. Anyway, it gave me an idea and so one night I helped my mother along…in secret of course.”

  “Ye did what? Ye never said that.” Móraí protested.

  Sandra turned to Móraí and frowned. “What does it matter? You were dying anyway. I put you out of your misery.”

  Móraí went silent, moving to the doorway. She crossed her arms over her petite chest, leaned back against the wall, and glowered. My guess was she was more than a little surprised by how all this was going. Good. It served her right.

  Sandra turned back to me, avoiding Móraí’s contemptuous stare, but I thought I glimpsed a look of regret. “I demanded Elena heal my mother. She came with her herbs and potions and tried to save her. Of course, Mother was already dead and my step-father, the most powerful man in the town of Hunedoara was as enamored by me as he had been by my mother. So, I convinced him that Elena was a witch and that she’d cursed Mother to die. From there both you and Elena were imprisoned and eventually taken to the Gallows.”

  That was the part I remembered.

  “Cullen tried to save us, but you wouldn’t listen,” I choked out, reliving the awful noose around my neck.

  “Yes. Vilhem tried as well. He died trying to save you, and although I changed my mind after that, and tried to protect you as well, the town was convinced you were a witch.” Sandra drooped like a deflated balloon, sinking down into one of the chairs, cradling her head in her hands. She let out a defeated moan.

  I debated on running, but the likelihood of making it out of this maze of tunnels was not favorable and, truthfully, a part of me really wanted to hear her story. It rang as the truth to me.

  “Elena’s neck snapped instantly, but your rope broke. The crowd turned on the executioner; in those days they took it as a sign of divine intervention. Cullen picked you up and we took you in and claimed you were my prisoner. Cullen was madly in love with you.”

  “But we were half brother and sister.”

  “Those things didn’t matter then.” She gave a bitter laugh. “And anyway, you weren’t…siblings. That is, Costin was the son of the local Priest, my step-father’s second in command—he was crazy and maniacal when it came to witches. I was careful to keep him in my corner. You hated us for what we’d done to your mother and you wouldn’t stop spewing your hate. I warned you that the Priest was watching, but you wouldn’t stop and when he saw that you were turning Costin against us, he sent men to drown you in the river.

  That must have been what Cullen’s dream was about. Too bad he hadn’t dreamed about this.

  “Cullen turned on me, vowing to follow you, even if it meant into death. That’s when I cursed us all. I stole away for my Great-Aunt’s cottage in the woods…”

  After a moment she looked back up, as though surprised to see we were still there.

  “Sit down,” she commanded as if finally realizing I might try to escape.

  I took a seat on one of the wooden chairs.

  “She was the high priestess, although no one aside from our immediate family knew that. I broke in while she was out and wrote a curse into the book. I wish I knew then how things would have turned out. I was just so angry … even though Elena was already dead, I wanted her to suffer as I was suffering so I cursed us all to reincarnate endlessly and you to a horrible death in every life. I swear, if I’d known what would happen, I would never have written those stupid childish words. I was so outraged by Vilhem for loving you more than me and my son…so I cursed him with obsession. That’s why in every life you were murdered at his hands. You knew him as Nico, Uilliam, Velte and eventually Liam. He was a pawn used in my fury. I made sure Elena would never be able to save you,” she said, holding up her hands as if to pray for forgiveness. “I even made myself immortal so that I, too, would always be there to bask in your mother’s misery.”

  “But if Elena was my daughter, she never had to watch, she didn’t suffer, she was never born.”

  “Yes, I know that now. I didn’t think that one through. I didn’t want Vilhem and Elena together so I reversed you and your mother in your roles. I thought that would leave your mother helpless in time to save you and thus she would suffer having to live without you as I was forced to live without my loved ones…Please don’t look at me like that. I know how this all sounds…I was irate and delusional when I wrote it.”

  I shook the thoughts away.

  “I still don’t understand. You wrote a spell in the book and cursed us to reincarnate. What about the sapphire?”

  “That was my Great-Aunt’s doing—or should I say undoing. She realized I stole the book and reclaimed it. The spell was written, so she could not undo it but she was able to write in caveats to change it. She sacrificed much of her own power to make it happen, but she felt liable because I was family and therefore her responsibility. She never forgave me. Elena was one of her closest friends.

  “She removed the curse from your soul, placing it inside my sapphire—a gem I used in my own dark magic. So poetic, to steal and use my jewel against me, but it was handy for her, I guess. She altered the curse so you would only die if the sapphire came into contact with your skin.”

  I thought about the story I’d been told all my life. The Purple Delhi Sapphire was a gift from the devil, himself, to the Hindu God of War, Indra—a pocket of dark magic placed inside a beautiful object—the devil’s way to bedazzle and corrupt the lost souls on Earth.

  “What about the legend of Indra? The stone’s dark magic ready and able to corrupt humanity. You were the one who told me that the devil hid his dark magic inside the sapphire.”

  “Lies. All lies.”

  It dawned on me, just how gullible I’d been. She’d played me every step of the way. “—But the spirits and the life cycle and the revolving door…”

  “Buddhism. I borrowed and planted some philosophy along the way.”

  “No way. There were too many people who would have to be in on this. My Gigi told me that bedtime story. The world knows the story of the
sapphire. Rochus even told me himself that he was one of the keepers, chosen to watch over it, to make sure it was never removed—to keep the world safe from its powers.”

  “One giant lie created a long time ago for your own protection. I only borrowed it to use it against to you. My Great-Aunt watched over you until I got too close in 1551. You were named Sive then. In her final act before dying, she sent her son, Rochus, away with the sapphire and the book. She told him to spell the temple, making it practically impossible to find. That’s why you were unable to locate it when you went to India to return the stone. She sent it there for safe keeping because I couldn’t set foot inside; she cloaked the temple from me. Then to prevent the locals from accidentally finding and pillaging it, she had Rochus spread the rumor about the devil’s bedazzling sapphire that corrupted souls. It worked up until that treasure hunter found it. She knew once it was removed, I would be able to sense it and I would be able to manipulate Vilhem in whatever way I wanted in order to bring you and the cursed stone together. I am ashamed to admit that I led Nico to the stone, and to you, but after that fate was of his own making. He was out of control. The darkness grew in Velte and Liam without my help. I even tried to stop it at times but couldn’t.”

  I stopped short, suddenly recognizing Sandra. “You were Gabriella. You looked much younger then, but how … Gabriella was Irish and you sound nothing like her.”

  “Aye, I can if I choose, after hundreds of years; ye learn to blend. The real Gabriella died on her journey to work in the castle. Her jilted fiancé was only too happy to have me back when I returned. I don’t think his eyesight was all that good.”

  “I thought you said you were immortal. Why do you age?”

  My Great-Aunt couldn’t reverse my immortality, but she altered it, forcing me to age—albeit much slower than the rest of the world. Unfortunately, it’s like a snowball, picking up speed and the older I get, the faster I age. I find myself more and more frequently using that wretched spell to turn back the hands of time.”

  “I recognized you in that past-life regression,” I said as pieces of the puzzle all clicked together.

  “The regressions didn’t work as I’d hoped. Remus was supposed to hypnotize you into telling us where the book was…not that it mattered.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I tried, but I can’t read the necessary spell, Sophia.”

  “What?”

  “My Great-Aunt must have foreseen this. She’s hidden the words from me. The page is blank. Now I must try another route, a more dangerous route. Otherwise, I would have taken the book with me the day when Móraí and I broke in.”

  “You ransacked my shop. How? Alana was in on it?”

  “Of course not. We drugged her, which reminds me…it’s time.”

  Shona opened the white box in front of her, revealing a lonely lemon cupcake.

  “Eat up, my dear.” She slid the box across the table. “Yer favorite.”

  “You’ve been lacing my cupcakes. That’s why I’ve been so off balance,” I accused. “I thought it was the magic, but Shona was drugging me. Why would ye help them?”

  “Because I hate ye, that’s why. Sam Walsh was my man, and ye stole him from me.”

  “Sam? I didn’t—”

  “He became obsessed with ye, and yer silly tramp friend.”

  Sandra piped up. “In the past, I’ve simply manipulated people’s drinks, but these herbs can be quite bitter tasting. Shona’s little cupcake shop came in very handy. Sam was best friends with Liam, and like a son to me, so naturally Shona and I became friends. Don’t you remember her grand opening seventeen years ago? I offered the readings and you stopped by.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” How had I missed that? “But Sam was dating Leslie...”

  “Yes, Shona wasn’t too pleased about that. She was pregnant with their daughter, Hannah. I imagine you now understand why she was so willing to help me now—forced to be a single parent and all.”

  I looked across the table at Shona and Hannah. The hate was truly visible. Hannah was Alana’s best-friend. She’d been in my home more times that I could count and her mother was dating Cullen’s Da. It was all so twisted.

  “Shona tells me the lemon, especially, hides the flavor.” Sandra smiled and lifted the cupcake out of the box, holding it out to me.

  Thoughts of Móraí’s herb garden prickled my brain. Sandra had helped her to plant it. Sandra was the friend she’d met in Shona’s shop who invited her to join the coven.

  “You can’t make me eat this.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s necessary for the spell. If you want to see Alana again, then you will eat it.”

  Sandra’s gaze locked on mine and I demolished the cupcake in two large bites. I needed to get Alana back, and I was getting used to headaches and the blurred vision. It tasted of lemon, just as it always did, but now I could also taste a hint of tree bark.

  “Shona, please take your daughter and go home now. This part could get dangerous.”

  “But—ye haven’t punished her yet.”

  “We discussed this. It’s time to go. You’ve played your part and had your revenge. The rest is up to me.” Sandra’s voice was firm and Shona’s face flashed with anger, but she got to her feet and tugged her daughter up the stairs. Sandra waited until they were gone to continue her rant.

  “I apologize for manipulating you, Sophia, but as you can see, my options were, and still are, limited. My time has run out and I have no other choice.”

  “Yes, you do. You can die like the rest of us will. You cursed me and you ask my forgiveness but you’re still punishing me. You can’t play with people’s lives and not pay for it. Karma will always get you.”

  “Once upon a time I would have laughed at the very idea. But I’m beginning to wonder whether you are right. Still I must try to go back and make things right. At the very least I need to apologize to some people before I die.”

  “So you’re going to go back to try to change things? You think you can?”

  She nodded her head.

  It had made sense to me once upon a time as well. If one can travel back in time—they could undo or change their actions and thus change the outcome. I’d tried to save my own loved ones that way and failed.

  “I want to see Alana first,” I demanded.

  Sandra shook her head.

  “Let me see her,” I begged.

  “She’s sleeping off the medicine—she’ll be okay unless you refuse to co-operate. Do you refuse?”

  “No.” I blinked back the tears and straightened in my chair. “But Alana had better be safe or there is nowhere you will be able to hide from me.”

  “She is. Let’s get started.” Madame Brun settled herself at the table, opening my book. The Book of Rochus.

  I didn’t turn around, but I heard soft wings beating the air. Was there a bird down here?

  Sandra bowed her head and I used the opportunity to look around the room. I was correct. There was a black raven settled on a perch behind Madam—its black feathers gleaming in the firelight. Behind it, against the wall on a shelf, three small skulls grinned blankly at me—animal skulls, or so I hoped.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down the side of my face. I needed to find a way out of here. I wouldn’t be a pawn in their game.

  “Hold out your hand,” Sandra Brun commanded.

  I didn’t move.

  “Móraí, hold out her hand.”

  Móraí stepped closer to me and her hair began to slither and hiss. She encircled my wrist but I screamed and pulled away. “Snakes!”

  “Relax, Sophia,” Sandra cooed. “You’re hallucinating. That’s just Móraí’s hair.”

  “What was in that cupcake?” I asked.

  “Sage, hemlock and a little hallucinogenic.”

  “A little hallucinogenic! Why?” I screamed.

  “To help you remember. To take you there.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

/>   “If you don’t co-operate, Móraí will shoot you in the knee,” Sandra declared.

  I thought about continuing to struggle despite the threat, but her hair had stopped moving. She suddenly seemed almost remorseful —weak, even. Then I realized why. She was staring at a picture of Liam that sat framed on the table before us. I could have strangled her in that moment and felt nothing but pleasure.

  Candlelight glinted off silver and dazzling purple gems. Sandra held a knife, high over my exposed palm—the Purple Delhi Sapphire Dagger, the one I’d had fashioned as a wedding gift for Cullen. Blood magic. Oh, that was not good. She was going to force my help just as Liam had once intended.

  The dagger descended. My blood spilled out, dripping over a pentagram drawn in half-red and half-black chalk on the table below.

  “I call on dark magic,” intoned Madame Brun, “to gain another’s…” She gave me a wicked, sickly smile as she deliberately wielded the knife in the air.

  My breath rasped in my throat. I was tired, as if my energy was pouring from me.

  I fought, grasping at as much energy as I could—imagining walls all around me, but I felt like a newborn resisting sleep. I couldn’t think, my energy was draining away like water through a sieve and I couldn’t…couldn’t hold on to it… my eyelids fluttered.

  The raven flapped its wings, danced on the perch for a minute, and then took flight. It circled the room, faster and faster, blowing the candles out. My skin crawled and the cut on my hand stung. Sandra relit the candles and placed them on the shelves alongside the stones.

  Then she took either side of my face, and pressed her head to mine. Forehead to forehead. Eyes closed. Bodies close, almost touching.

  A long moment passed. I could feel her reaching out to me, but I couldn’t keep my guard up. The sense was overwhelming. “Concentrate on the black mirror. Think of Elena and Alexandra, of your cottage and the castle. Concentrate without thought on seeing what is in your mind’s eye. I know you can do it. Send me home, Sophia, and you shall remain safe here with your family.”

  I faced the mirror and tried not to do what she told me, but the images and memories flashed before my eyes.