Heir of the Coven (Daughters of the Warlock 3)

“What do you have?” one of the women demanded.

I walked back to my chair and picked up my small bag. I glanced apologetically at my father and Tavlor.

“I’m sorry I didn’t show you two, in case it jeopardized the original plan,” I said.

“What is it?” my father asked.

I looked at Tavlor. “Are you sure none of them can magic this away from me?” I asked. He was the one I trusted to tell me the truth. He was the one I needed the reassurance from. “I don’t have copies, and it’s very precious to me.”

Tavlor rolled his hands and threw something at me. It was cold and made me shiver, but it was also comforting. Encapsulating. I had to assume it had protective properties, or he wouldn’t have done it.

When he nodded, I assumed it meant I was safe to pull the book out. I gave him a smile as a way to say thank you to him, then turned back to my father and to the Council. If I was going to play this hand, I needed to do it now.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I didn’t know why, but this part terrified me more than other things I’d done today.

It was probably because there was proof of my sisters’ existence in the pages of my mother’s journal and the last thing I wanted was the Council to know about my sisters. Let them do whatever it was they wanted to do to me, but my sisters? I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to them, especially knowing it would be my fault.

Not only that, my mother’s emotions and journey were about to be laid out in front of the people who hated her the most. It felt so disrespectful, in some way. Despite my feelings about the woman, I didn’t want anyone in her personal business.

I reached into the bag and pulled out the book, my stomach trembling with fear and a touch of excitement.

It’s for a good cause. Don’t worry.

It would save my life, and my father’s. In that respect, it would only help my sisters. And we had Bella to thank for it in the first place.

I held the book up in the air, the thin leather-bound diary warm in my hand.

“This is my mother’s journal,” I stated. “Kept over several years, including the year she got pregnant with me.”

There was a general gasp and hiss from the room.

“Show me!” the same Witch demanded as Charity screeched behind her sealed lips.

She wanted it too, I knew she did.

I laughed at her demand. “Yeah, right.”

I walked forward and started opening the pages. “I’m sure you have ways of checking the authenticity of these dates and pages, but for the moment, I’m going to hold onto this. No-one is to take it. Actually...”

I turned to my father, who looked like he’d been hit over the head with a frying pan.

“Can you make multiple copies of this, now?” I asked. “So that if they steal it, I still have the evidence? I can still prove my case?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he said, but he seemed hesitant. I frowned. “But the only one that will hold up to authenticity standards will be the original.”

“That’s fine, as long as I can hold onto it without them threatening to take it from me,” I said. “Can you just make two copies? One for you. And one for Tavlor?”

They were the only two people I trusted with the knowledge in these pages. The only two people who knew of my beloved sisters’ existence. The only two I could count on who wouldn’t put my sisters in any danger, at least knowingly.

My father glanced at Tavlor. I couldn’t decipher the look the two shared, but there seemed to be a lot of silent communication going on between the two of them. I probably would have laughed if our circumstances weren’t so dire.

Tavlor nodded. “I’ll do it. You won’t be able to penetrate the shield I put around her.”

I heard a snort from behind us and we all glanced that way to find Charity glaring at Tavlor. It almost seemed like she couldn’t believe Taylor had more power than the High Warlock. Clearly, she didn’t understand the Fae power.

I looked at my father. “Can you unlock her lips for a minute?” I asked. I knew it was petty, but I couldn’t help it. “I’m dying to know what she’s saying.”

Matlock nodded, and then threw a bolt of magic at his wife’s mouth.