The Vampire & Her Witch

Ashlynn’s heart shook like a leaf in the wind, clinging to Wolstan’s words the way a leaf clung to a branch in a storm.

For months she’d wondered... No, for months, she’d been plagued by doubts she couldn’t rid herself of. Doubts about whether her father truly loved her or if he’d arranged her marriage to Owain in order to finally be rid of her. In the long, isolated months she’d spent in the Briar, when she felt farther from her family than she’d ever been, a dark seed of doubt had whispered to her that he cared more for his alliance with the Lothians and the grandsons she would bear than he cared for her...

She told herself over and over again that he wasn’t like that. He’d supported her in so many ways over the years, not just keeping her safe from the eyes of the Inquisition but helping her to find what joy she could within the gilded cage she’d grown up in.

Still, the fears in her heart would never be dispelled until she could speak with him, and they’d only gotten worse when she learned that it had been Jocelynn, her beloved sister, who betrayed her secret to Owain Lothian. If Jocelynn could turn on her, why not her father or her mother? Perhaps her whole family had reason to betray her...

She didn’t believe it, but now... Now, she finally had proof in a message that had taken the most improbable route she could imagine to reach her. But that message...

”Is he really, is he really going to attack the ships carrying Holy Warriors crossing the sea?” Ashlynn asked. ”If he does that, the whole kingdom and the Church will turn against him...”

”He will,” Wolstan said. ”Esselk’ti, the Witch of Deep Currents, the one who brought your father’s message, said he remembers his family’s oaths.”

”She said that he will not betray you or the Mother of Tides,” Wolstan explained. ”Even though it isn’t the Eldritch way to pass things from father to son, your ancestor, Phylip, was the Witch of Ebbing Tides and the Eldritch Lord of Black Sails Harbor.”

”Your father knows this,” Wolstan said. ”He is the Eldritch Lord of Black Sails now, and the Mother of Tides acknowledges him, even if he lacks the strength of an Eldritch Lord at the moment. Your family has waited more than two hundred years for the Eldritch to return to Black Sails Harbor. When the time comes, he will welcome you home, and all those who follow you.”

If her father’s message left her feeling like a leaf in a storm, Wolstan’s next words fell on her like a lightning bolt, shattering much of what she knew and leaving her feeling as though she’d been split in two and set on fire.

Her father hadn’t just sent a message... He’d spoken to a witch in order to send that message. A witch who was part of the Mother of Tides’ coven. The very same coven that her ancestor, Phylip Blackwell, had evidently been a member of.

”The Witch of Ebbing Tides...” Ashlynn whispered, turning the unfamiliar title over in her mind as she tried to imagine what her ancestor had been like, what he had really been like, if he’d managed to earn a place in the Mother of Tides’ Coven.

She’d grown up on family legends of Phylip, his ship the Black Tide, and his crew of misfits who grew rich raiding ships filled with treasure pillaged from the Eldritch natives to be sent across the sea to the old countries. The tales had always seemed larger than life, and as she grew older, she’d come to feel like they must have been exaggerated the way many families exaggerated the stories of their founding heroes...

But perhaps those exaggerated tales had understated the truth. If Phylip was a witch, his power over wind and waves would have been extraordinary. With a good ship under his feet and an able crew, perhaps a crew who had learned Eldritch sorcery from their witch-captain...

”The First Crew!” Ashlynn exclaimed, her eyes going wide as more and more pieces fell into place. The heritage that was still so important that every year, her father hosted a gathering of the descendants of the First Crew at Blackwell Manor, inviting them into their home whether they’d gone on to be lords or knights like the officers of the Black Tide or lived ordinary lives as merchants, farmers, or sailors...

But even as her mind struggled to integrate what she’d just heard with everything she’d known, her heart was engulfed by flames that flickered between the comforting warmth of her father’s love and the pain of the secrets he’d kept from her for her entire life.

”He’ll fight for me,” Ashlynn said, clutching the silver button tightly enough that its rounded edge bit into her palm.

A younger Ashlynn would have found the statement bold and heroic, the kind of thing that leaped off the pages of the fairy stories she’d read to Jocelynn when they were both little girls. Now, however, she knew the costs of war; she’d stood on the battlefield herself and watched friends and allies fall...

Ashlynn knew all too well what her father risked in a war against the Church. Even at sea, where the Blackwell Fleet would command a tremendous advantage, if the Church’s inquisitors could call down Holy Flame at a distance, her father’s ships might not survive approaching the Church’s ships... And even if they did, if they burned to the waterline in the battle, then everyone aboard would still die at sea.

The thought of it was almost enough to pull her from her seat, but where could she go and what could she do to help all the way from here? Even with witchcraft to speed her travel, Blackwell was weeks away, and her place was here, bringing order to the region and establishing the empire that she and Nyrielle hadn’t just poured tremendous work into, but that they needed if they were ever going to live lives of peace without the constant threat of attack from the Kingdom and the Church.

But if her father was willing to fight for her, and if Blackwell was willing to welcome the Eldritch in their lands... Then her father and her homeland had a place in their empire; she just had to find a way to help him survive the storm that was coming.

”Does my father really believe that he can fight the Church?” Ashlynn asked before the fires engulfing her heart burned hotter, and she asked a painful question she was almost afraid to hear the answer to. ”Is there something else I still don’t know that makes him believe he has a chance?”

”Esselk’ti taught him sorcery before she left,” Wolstan said. ”Not much, but she gave him a pearl of power to help him command the waves as your ancestor did. She also repaired the beacon that was broken, so he can call for aid from the Mother of Tides and her coven if he must.”

”Beacon?” Ashlynn asked. ”What... what beacon?”

”The one your father lit when you were born,” Wolstan said with a complicated expression on his face, as if his answer touched on some painful memory of his own. ”A beacon left to your ancestors to summon aid from the Mother of Tides. Someone stole the pearl that gave it power. When your father lit it, it didn’t work.”

”If it had,” Wolstan explained, looking at her as though he was seeing someone else sitting there. ”Your father would have sent you to the Mother of Tides to learn to use your powers. And... And to keep you safe from the Church and the Inquisition.”