The Witch: Book Two of The Sorceress Saga Taliesin Govannon (best free ereader .txt) 📖

energies of life, however, I realized that my discomfort flowed from the misery that was the legacy of those not in the ownership class.

                But not here.  Oh, I can feel it’s echoes, but they feel millennia old.

                I met Raina back behind the main house when it got close to dinnertime.  While I knew that she had spent her day setting up training areas for the two of us to practice our magick, I also couldn’t help but wonder just how much her ‘extracurricular’ activities with her Fae friends helped keep her close to home.

                “Hey there magick-gal,” I said as I slipped into the seat next to her on the patio, “how was your afternoon?”

                “Productive.” she replied with a grin.

                “Vertically or horizontally?” I asked with my own grin.

                “Both.” she replied, and we both had a good laugh.

                “What’s on the menu for tonight?” I asked after it had passed.

                “I didn’t ask.”

                “So, seriously, is everything set to start training tomorrow?”

                “Good to go.”

                We watched as the sun sank lower and lower to the horizon.  “Have you seen Ashara today?” I asked.

                “No, but I was outside a lot.” Raina replied.  “She’s still too young, I guess, to go out into the sunlight.”

                “Two hundred and fifty is young?" I knew it was true, however, it still struck me as strange.

                “To be flame retardant, yeah.” Raina said.

                “So our tour of the old slave quarters is after dinner?” I asked.

                “Ashara wants to do it personally.  Drucilla and Cordelia have only taken over one of the smaller buildings.  It seems cozy enough.” she said with a shrug.

                We were interrupted by Gaia, who called us to the house to eat.

                After dinner, I believe I will ask our host some questions I thought as we headed inside.

                                                                                                *                *                *

                “If I go too quickly, don’t hesitate to say something.”

                Ashara moved down the path with a fluid ease that made me envious.  While Raina’s Fae-light lit the way just fine as it hovered above her hand, there was just no way I could be that graceful!

                “I am simply not used to moving at human speed anymore.” she continued.

                “We’re good.” Raina said, only slightly out of breath.

                We exited the treeline to walk into a clearing surrounded by small brick houses.  While the trees pressed into their backs, the space in front of the dwellings was well mown and manicured.

                This must be the place!

                “What did this look like last week?” Raina asked.

                “Much like you see it now." Ashara answered.  "A local family has been tasked with maintaining certain areas for the last hundred and fifty years since the main house has lain empty of living souls.  They have used the extended contract to build quite the thriving landscaping business for themselves, which is only fitting."

                “How so?”

                “Because the family who built the business was enslaved here at one point.”

                That surprised me.  “Really?”

                “I take it that Vincent and Angelique never told you everything about their time here?” she asked, looking at me.

                “Well, I,” I stammered, “I mean, I’ve read some of Angelique’s diaries, but...”

                I lapsed into an awkward silence.  Ashara didn’t allow it to last long.

                “When Angelique and Vincent bought this particular place,” she began, “it was like any other plantation… hard work, brutal discipline, families destroyed, the entire horror show.  Or so they tell me.”  Ashara started a slow walk towards one of the bigger buildings.

                “I wasn't here when they first came, but I knew people who were." she continued while Raina and I caught up to her.  "Well, the old slaves knew very well what Vincent and Angelique were, and feared for their safety.  Angelique assured them, however, that they meant them no harm, and in fact, needed them to keep the farm working so as to not arouse suspicion."

                “That’s right!” I said, snapping my fingers.  My memory was coming back.  “Didn’t they get some children back who had just been sold?”

                “Yes, yes,” Ashara smiled, nodding.  “Old Sarah, who was as close to a matriarch that this old place ever had, had two grandchildren who had just been sold to the place down the road.  Angelique bought them back, and then gave the slaves their former overseer to do with what they pleased.  Both gestures earned them the respect of the unfortunates who occupied the dwellings that used to be here.”

                “Then these aren’t original?” Raina asked as we stopped at the door of the larger dwelling.

                “No, no.” Ashara said, shaking her head.  “The old shacks that used to be here were nasty and broken down.  After all, we were livestock to most white people back then.  But Vincent insisted on building us far nicer places to live.”

                “At least they’re dry, if not fancy.” Raina said, looking around.

                “Well, they needed to look plain from the outside, so as to not raise suspicions.” Ashara explained, opening the door.  “But they were a bit freer on the inside.”

                We walked in, and my jaw dropped.  A ‘bit’ freer? I thought.

                The inside was simply gorgeous… dark, polished wood, marble fireplaces, cut crystal chandeliers… it looked more like a European manor house than a pre-civil war farm building.  An elaborate red brick kitchen was to the right, while bedrooms branched off of the opposite side of the room.

                What immediately caught Raina’s attention, however, was a large mural that took up much of the back wall in between the windows.

                “Holy sheep-shit, Batman...” her voice trailed off as she took it in.

                It was an impressive painting… two figures, a black man and woman, sat on either side of a black and white striped pole.  The animals of the day gathered around the woman, while night creatures surrounded the man.  Her hair was intertwined with vines and leaves, while his surrounded rams horns on either side of his head.

                “This was Sarah’s house.”