Pruning the Wolfsbane: Chp. 1
An exciting fantasy filled with magic and adventure
This is the beginning of Book 2 of my Witches of the Poison Garden series. Links to Book 1 are at the bottom of the post.
Blurb:
After miraculously landing my dream job at an isolated stately home I discovered it was too good to be true and that a hidden clause in the contract had trapped me as Keeper of its Poison Garden.
But I’m not complaining.
In fact, life has become an incredible adventure and opened up a secret and magical world I never knew existed. One where I can let my powers truly blossom.
My new boss is easy on the eyes too.
But the poison garden hides a secret – a gateway to another realm, and an exit door for the destructive creatures that live there.
And it’s my job to keep the gate locked!
When a high-ranking member of the Witches’ Council is found dead on the estate, and the fields surrounding Blackwood Hall begin to burn, deadheading the hemlock and pruning the wolfsbane become the least of my worries.
With the fires creeping ever closer, I must discover who is behind the attack before the Hall and its gardens are burned to the ground.
Someone wants the gates of hell to be broken open and it’s up to me to stop them.
Chapter One
“It is because you are with us, Leofe, that Freysblöt will be so special this year,” Aelfwen said one morning as I picked dead leaves from the nodding spires of a cluster of wolfsbane. “I feel it in my bones. It is in the very air!”
The woodsy scent from the purple hooded flowers wafted between us as I looked up from my crouched position. Aelfwen seemed particularly excited this morning and her bright green eyes glittered with a silver and magical energy. Sunlight glinted against white and short-cropped hair making it appear like a silvery halo. Dressed from head to toe in black, she was elegant in her slim-fitting skirt and silk blouse. A string of pearls at her throat and a pair of pearl drop earrings completed the outfit. Slender and poised in the sophisticated ensemble, she was out of place in the garden but with her magically sparkling eyes and delicate elven features, perfectly at one with it too.
“I’m not sure I can take credit for that,” I mused and clipped another dying leaf from the plant. I checked the leaf for any sign of blight, any indication that my energies were becoming toxic and needed cleansing. It had been nearly six weeks since my touch had caused ferns to brown to a crisp and crumble into dust in my hands and I was still wary. Satisfied that the curling and browning of the leaf was only natural decay, I dropped it into the basket at my side. Tending to flowers and plants, being outside, at one with nature, was what gave me joy; it was what made me tick. Which was why discovering that my magical energies, after years of enduring a toxic marriage, had become poisonous to plants and animals was such a shock. Cats, dogs, and horses had picked up on my fetid energies too and would bark or hiss or rear up at me. Thankfully, Aelfwen’s wisdom had saved me, and, after a detox, I was no longer a threat to the local flora and fauna.
“They do look majestic this year,” she said with a smile as I stood back to consider my work. “And that’s because you are here too.”
For the last month, Aelfwen had been hammering home just how important having me at Blackwood Hall was. The energy was better, she stated, the vegetables were growing with more vigour and those harvested tasted better, and every flower in the garden had a better scent, greener leaves, and more vibrant colour.
I managed to hold in a chuckle. Since we had overcome and destroyed the Shadow Man that had taken possession of Kattarina Blackwood, I could do no wrong in Aelfwen’s eyes. Although I sensed fear behind her praise; she desperately wanted me to stay on at the Hall and take on the role of Keeper of the Poison Garden along with all its duties.
When I first discovered that I had agreed to become Keeper under false pretences, or at least without the true nature of the job being revealed, I had resigned from my position at the Hall. But when the danger that Maximus and the rest of the staff were in became clear, I knew that my purpose lie with them, and had used my newly found powers to help defeat the creature that was attacking us.
I considered her for a moment, taking in the sparkling green of her eyes and sensed that she was holding something back. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me, Aelfwen?” I asked just as Jodi, my assistant, nudged the garden’s gate open with a wheelbarrow filled with ash. Flakes lifted then eddied before floating away as a light breeze caught them. Dressed in her usual oversized t-shirt and dungarees, complete with flower-patterned wellington boots, she was slender with a delicate bone structure, violet eyes, and flaxen hair held in a messy chignon. Despite the modern clothes, she held more than a passing resemblance to the forest elves depicted in my mother’s ancient grimoire.
“We’re holding the ball here this year!” she blurted as though sharing a secret bursting to be told.
“The Ball?” I asked.
Jodi threw Aelfwen a glance of surprise, her violet eyes sparkling with iridescent specks. She rested the wheelbarrow on the ground. “Is that true?”
Aelfwen nodded.
“Oh, wow!” Jodi exclaimed and turned her attention to me. “You’ll be busy then.”
“I will?”
She nodded.
“Leofe … holding the ball here, at Blackwood Hall, is a great honour.”
Jodi huffed. “I bet Maximus doesn’t think that.”
Aelfwen’s lips pressed together. “Master Blackwood is thrilled that the Hall has been chosen for this year’s Ball and even more so because with the unfortunate passing of the late Millicent Devereux-”
Jodi gave a derisory snort.
“… Jodi, we never speak ill of the dead.”
Jodi raised a brow. “Apart from yesterday when I overheard you talking to Maximus about how poisonous the old baggage was and-”
“Thank you, Jodi, for that reminder.”
“Who was Millicent?” I asked.
“She was a hideous, child-trafficking, black magic practising, toxic old witch and we’re all the better for her being burned to death!” Jodi said with satisfaction.
“Millicent, it is true, had turned to the dark side of magick,” Aelfwen agreed. “Unfortunately, her corrupted networks were so cleverly assembled that she remained Mistress of All Covens-”
“Yes, and director of the Academy, until her crimes were uncovered, and she was confronted by the Haligern crones. They saw to her end. She was burned to death by a dragon after she had been turned into a goat! It’s an epic tale and everyone is still talking about it months later.”
“Yes, thank you, Jodi. The position has remained unfilled for quite some time – disagreements among the covens …” Aelfwen sighed and grew quiet.
“Who are the Haligern crones?” I asked, fascinated by the unfolding story.
“You’ve met one of them, Beatrice, the lady who guided you to us.”
I remembered the tiny bird-like woman with the cloud of auburn hair who had scared me half to death by turning up in my kitchen and then at the garden centre. I thought I was going mad! It was her who had encouraged me to touch the fern that had then crumbled into dust in front of my boss. I shivered and pushed away difficult memories, fearful that the poisonous touch would return if my energies began to turn sour once more.
“Anyway, I digress. The point is that we have been chosen to hold this year’s harvest ball and it will be a particularly momentous occasion because there will be a Choosing.”
Jodi’s eyebrows raised a little further. “Oh, wow!” she repeated.
“Indeed, Jodi. It will be momentous which is why it is so crucial that everything runs smoothly.”
“And safe,” Jodi replied gesturing to the garden.
A wave of brittle energy, felt like ice cold wind, wafted from Aelfwen and she gave an almost imperceptible shiver. “That is our number one priority,” she said, and a flicker of fear crossed her eyes as they caught mine. “Millicent held the position of Mistress of All Covens for more than four hundred years,” she continued, “and now a successor must be chosen. Freysblöt and the Harvest Ball are to be held the day before the ceremony which means the Hall will be accommodating the senior crones from among the clans as well as many coven members.”
“What she means is that its going to be filled to the rafters with cantankerous and self-important crones, and judgemental old witches!”
“Jodi!”
“But I’m not wrong.”
Aelfwen rolled her eyes. “I hope that you’ll manage to curb your honesty when they are here. You could cause offense.”
This time Jodi rolled her eyes. “I promise to behave myself.”
Aelfwen’s smile returned.
“Good. Now, back to Leofe.” Her green eyes sparkled as they caught mine. “Leofe, there will be a marquee to arrange, and the gardens need to be brought up to standard. You’ve done a wonderful job so far, but if we could have them tidied in readiness …”
“Of course,” I said. In my mind I scanned the gardens. They had been neglected before my arrival, still magical, but overgrown. I had paid particular attention to the poison garden and the area surrounding it, but the estate was vast.
“Maximus and I agreed that the front of the house and the entrance gates and driveway need to be in pristine condition. First impressions count.” She continued explaining which areas of the gardens they had agreed needed the most attention and then slipped in that a wedding had been booked for August.
“No pressure then,” I laughed.
“I knew that you’d take it in your stride,” she smiled and I sensed the brittle tension that had wafted around her ease to softness. She hovered and I realised there was more she had to tell me. She cast her eyes to the garden office with its sloping turf roof then glanced to the beds of poisonous flowers. “The digitalis is looking spending, this year, Leofe.”
She did have something else to say. I agreed that the foxgloves did look stunning then waited.
“There is one more thing, Leofe,” she said catching my eyes briefly then returning her gaze to the flower beds.
“Yes?” I asked. From her reticence, whatever she had to say was not going to be good and I waited with a sense of increasing dread.
“Maximus has asked that you accompany him to the Ball … as his companion.”
Jodi tittered. “Leofe and Maximus sitting in a tree. K.I.S.S.I.N.G,” she sang with childish glee.
The dread that had been knotting in my stomach grew large then dropped like a stone.
***
If you haven’t read Book 1, Deadheading the Hemlock, here are the links: