Chapter Eighteen
They had never seen Eleanor so angry. Her shouts and curses from behind the closed dinning hall's room could be heard even to where the rest of the family was sat. Pogue was snoozing in an armchair, with a leg dangling over the arm. Caleb was anxiously drumming in fingertips together, while Reid had left the room hours ago with his mother. She however came back with drinks. He was nowhere to be seen. Mary and Evelyn where absently drinking from their steaming cups while Tyler and Mary were stood aside.
"How long do you think they are going to keep him in there?" Tyler asked, throwing another look at the unchanged foyer.
"He broke the rules, Tyler," his mothered replied. Her voice was sure enough, but he could hear the worry in it.
"You saw what happened," Tyler exclaimed. After Reid ran off, Pogue followed to back him up. Caleb and Tyler waited to see if their mother's wanted to go. They soon decided when the quakes started again.
"Whatever that girl is-" he added.
"A Pendle. You should know what means if you are going to take ascension seriously. You should know all the colonies," his mother interrupted.
"Right," Tyler shifted. "If she is a Pendle, you heard her. She had nothing to do with Eleanor's illness. If anything we should be helping her."
"You have no idea what you are saying," Daphne interjected. Shaking her head like he was a child suggesting something insane.
"My guess is," Evelyn's soft voice spoke out from the sofa. "That is exactly what they are talking about it that room."
Her voice was animated and she was slowly coming back to herself. It was a sure cry from a few hours ago where they nearly had to wrestle a bottle of Jack from her grasp.
"What are the choice's? Help or not? Doesn't seem like a hard choice to me," Tyler shrugged his shoulders.
"A couple of hundred years ago, there was only one choice," Daphne explained. "If a Pendle was ever discovered, the penalty would be death."
"What?" Caleb said, his eyebrows rose in shock.
"What did they do to make everyone fear them?" Tyler asked. His eyes flicking in between his mother and Evelyn.
"Their power is an abomination to the Covenant," Daphne explained. "At the very beginning, that girl's ancestors committed such an act that their family line's power would be changed forever. When you use, your body pays the price. You age at a faster rate. They discovered a way to stop that."
"That doesn't sound too bad to me," Tyler said under his breath, thinking about the recent aging to his father.
"Could you commit such an act that would be remembered as the single most horrific thing in the history of witchcraft?" Daphne scolded.
"No," Tyler frowned, his cheeks reddening. "But how did they do it?"
"No one knows," shrugged Evelyn. "As far as I know, most of the records of that time and books with any mention of the Pendle line were burned. There are only a handful with brief passages in them, but they were either lost in time or hidden away, forgotten in history."
"If all the evidence is vanished, how is the story still alive?" Caleb suggested.
"Word of mouth. Parents tell their children, who tell their children, so on, so forth," Evelyn replied, moving her hands in circles.
"How do you know that those stories are as accurate as the truth?" Tyler said. "It may have started as a cautionary tale, but over the centuries turned into a big game of Chinese whispers."
"Why are you fighting so hard to protect someone you don't even know?" Daphne snapped.
"Why are you fighting so hard to condemn a girl from a family she is clearly hiding from," Tyler countered.
"Enough," Evelyn exclaimed rubbing her temples. "Enough of this useless talk. The decision doesn't lay with us, so don't waste the energy."
Georgina was lying on the bed staring up at the ceiling. She had been in this position for about half an hour. Unable to move and unable to sleep. Like last time she released, she felt terrible. Her skin was tender and muscles were tight. A headache pounded behind her eyes. They bought her in this room shortly after the incident in Eleanor's bedroom. Rowena had every intention of locking her in the basement, but Eleanor shouted long and hard enough. So they bought her here. With a locked and protected door and window should she ever try to escape.
A gentle tapping sounded in the room. Georgina ignored it. She knew the guard on the other side of her room had gotten curious about her. He told her his name was Andrew and he tried to talk to her, but she ignored him and he quickly took the hint.
The tapping turned to soft knocks. Georgina sighed and opened her eyes. The light was too bright. Squinting, it was then she saw the blue protection shields on the window and door had gone. With a frown she painfully got off the bed and walked to the window. Putting a hand on the window she could feel the cold glass. There was no shield. She quietly opened the latch and slid the window up. Cold air flowed through and Georgina gripped the window ledges. Readying her self.
But a wave of tiredness washed over her. With a last look at freedom, she turned and leaned against the wall. Scrunching up he face, she gently knocked her head against the wall. The rocking persisted.
"Okay," she softly exclaimed. The noise annoying her.
Leaving the window open, she walked to the door and opened it. She held it closed enough for the young guy stood in front of her couldn't see the open window.
"Hey," he said bashfully.
He was good looking enough that it made her weary of him. She never trusted good-looking guys, especially if they were talking to her.
"They asked me to bring up some food for you," he said, raising the tray he was carrying.
It wasn't until she saw the sandwiches that she realized she was hungry. When she looked up she saw he was staring.
"Erm," he said shaking his head, "Here."
He held out the tray, but in a way as to not let her touch him. She was too tired to care at that point. So she took it from him. She was about to shut the door when he spoke.
"I'm going to have to put the shields back up," he said anxiously.
Whether he knew about the open window or not, he never said. Georgina just softly shrugged and said, "Do what you got to do."
And closed the door behind her. When she turned around she nearly jumped out of her skin. Leaning his tall, lean frame against the window seat was Reid. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was too late. The blue shield went up behind him. Locking them both in the bedroom. He threw a lazy look at the shield and smirked his little smile at her. She shook her head and walked slowly to the desk.
"What are you doing here?" she asked in a deflated tone, putting the tray on uneaten food on the desk.
"I thought you might like someone to talk too," Reid shrugged. "You know. Someone who's not trying to kill you."
Georgina turned and tilted her head at him, disbelieving. What he was carrying caught her eye.
"Is that my bag?" she asked standing as straight as her aching body would allow.
"That was the other reason I'm here. Eleanor asked me to bring this too you," he replied holding up her backpack.
A cast him a suspicious look before walking to him. He maintained a look of nonchalant innocence, but she could bet it was just a façade. He gave her the bag.
The weight of it nearly pulled her down. She forgot how heavy it was.
"Whoa," Reid said rushing to her.
He went to help her, but she flinched from him. He stood back.
"Are you okay?" he frowned, noticing the flush in her face and shivering.
"I've been better," she stated simply, trying not to show weakness.
"Here," he said, holding his hand out.
She shook her head about to tell him not to bother, but he cut her off.
"Give me the bag, Georgina," he said, stepping closer.
She gritted her teeth and handed over the bag. As soon as the weight was gone, she felt better. But the headache was getting worse. She turned away from him and went to the bed. He followed at a safe distance.
"Why are you bothering?" she said, sitting heavily on the bed but turning to face him.
"What can I say," he shrugged lazily, fixing his baby blues on her. "Things were getting a little dull around here."
Reid frowned down at the bag and tested its weight.
"What is in here anyway?" he asked.
"Mostly books," she breathed, rubbing her temples.
Reid pulled a face and put the bag down on the bed, "Anything interesting?"
"Not unless you like to read about ignorant 16th century soldiers decimating a land that wasn't theirs," she said and then looked at him. "Then it ain't half bad."
"Oh yeah, that sound's interesting," he nodded enthusiastically, keeping his face deadpan.
Georgina stared at him then snorted, feeling the corners of her lips pull up.
"It really doesn't sound interesting," he added with a small smile. "At all."
"It isn't," she said, losing her smile.
"Then why fill your bag up with them?"
"Research."
She watched as he nodded slightly to himself. He put his hands on the footboard of the bed and leaned forward. She saw a small tattoo of a crown on his finger. The movement accentuated his frame. The long sleeved dark navy shirt he wore was rolled up at the sleeves. He had more tattoos on his forearm. Georgina wondered about the fascination of tattoos and wondered if he had any more. She frowned at the thought. Why does she care? It's not like she had great taste when it came to men. The last one she trusted betrayed her.
Unaware of the internal monologue, Reid stared at her. Her hair was slightly messy but it looked great on her. The jumper she wore was clearly too big and it hung off her shoulder. He could see some scars but they disappeared under her top.
She looked up at him and saw him staring. He dropped his eyes and nodded to the bag.
"Need a hand with it?"
Eleanor tried to calm down. Her fingernails dug into the cherry wood of the chairs arm rests. She looked to her side at Gregory. He was nervous as hell but he kept it together. Gregory felt Eleanor's eyes on him and smiled tightly at her. She nodded in pride at him. Though he had no idea what his punishment would be, he had no regrets.
"Clearly we are not getting anywhere with this," Rowena pursed her lips.
She was sat on the other side of the long dinning table with the council either sat next to her or stood behind. The ones standing were showing signs of fatigue. They had been in that room for the past two hours. And the only thing they have accomplished was to see Eleanor and Gregory's loyalty to Georgina. They had yet to know why.
Eleanor bit her tongue. She wanted to tell Rowena where to go. But she didn't. Rowena was head of the Ipswich line. If she jeopardized their relationship any more than she had done already, Eleanor's opinion would be silenced. Then Georgina would be defenseless.
"I move to suggest we bring in Georgina Pendle," sighed Rowena. Most of the council disapproved straight away.
"We are unprotected," someone shouted out.
"She is a Pendle," another voice said.
A wheezy voice, barely audible said, "We need to hear her story."
Every silenced and looked at a withered old man sat on a chair at the end of the table. He wasn't on either side of the table. Instead he held the silver lion figure head of his cane and watched everyone interestingly. His name was Lionel Cornwell and he was the oldest witch in the history of the Covenant. He looked every bit of his age. And at 93, it was a feat no witch had ever managed before.
"I have been on this earth a lot longer than any of you," he said. "I have learnt that not everything is so black and white. Let's hear her story."
And with those four words, it was decided. For Lionel was the Head of the Council, just like his grandfather was before him. And his word was law.