Witchfall by Victoria Lamb

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Parti Hampton Court

Spring 1555


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1 SCRYING

I ad e here before in a dream. I was standing in a highplace, buffeted by winds and wrapped in a reddish mist thatstretched into cloud a few yards ahead. My loose hair whippedabout my face, longer than it was now. The wide skirt of mygown billowed around my ankles, f lapping like a ships sail.Power prickled at my fingertips, tingling with familiar heat.

Yet I was not permitted to use magick. Not in this place.My senses strained for clues as to my whereabouts, catchingstrange sounds, a rushing noise like wings.

Sensing movement above my head, I glanced up. A hawkcame soaring out of the sunset. It screamed impatiently, tilt-

ing its barred body as though hunting for a place to land.When I looked down again, Marcus Dent was standing infront of me, clothed all in black.

You always knew it would come to this, Meg Lytton.His words echoed in my mind. Didnt you?


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v i c t or i a l a m b12

I stared at him, too horrified to speak.

I had to get away from him, yet seemed unable to move.My arms hung stiff ly by my sides, my feet rooted as thoughtied to a stake.

You bested me with your girls magick last time we met.But now you will find I have the advantage.

The witchfinder showed me what was in his hands: abroad-headed axe, shiny and cruel, its thick shaft wrapped

thrice about with holly.No, I managed hoarsely.Marcus Dent watched as I struggled to break free from

whatever supernatural hold he had asserted over me. His blueeyes gleamed with malicious amusement.

Why waste your last moments on this tiresome show ofresistance? Accept your fate and kneel for the axe. You havetried before to escape meand might have succeeded witha little more talent. But you are a mere girl. It is your destinyto die at my hands. You have neither the strength nor theknowledge to fight me. I will always be stronger than you,and your blood spilt in this place today will prove it. Withthe axe, he pointed to the stone between us. Now, downon your knees!

Sweat broke out on my forehead as I battled to break freeof Marcus Dents hold over me. How had the witchfindermanaged this feat, binding me so tight to this time and placethat I could not escape?

I will not kneel to you, Dent. I refuse!Meg, he said deeply, leaning closer. The axe blade f lashed

in my eyes, dazzling me. His voice grew urgent. Meg! Meg!Then a hand came down on my shoulder and I turned,looking up into Alejandro de Castillos concerned face.

The young Spanish novice was balancing a tallow stump onhis palm, its f lickering f lame reflected in his eyes. As though


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w i t c h f a l l 13

I had never seen him before, I drank in the sight of my secret

betrothed: strong cheekbones, dark hair swept back from hisforehead, a burning intensity about himand yet a steadinesstoo, like a rock set in the midst of a wild torrent.

Meg, it is time to go.I closed my eyes, dazed and confused as reality flooded

back. I was no longer standing in that high place, about tohave my head chopped off by the witchfinder Marcus Dent.

Instead, I was kneeling on the dirt f loor in a tiny disused stor-age room adjacent to the kitchens of Hampton Court Palace.

My heart was juddering, my palms clammy. It was hardnot to let my frustration show as I stumbled over my words.I must keep scryingjust another few minutes.

The kitchen servants are assembling to carry the dishesinto the Great Hall. Your absence will be noted if you are notat the princesss side when the banquet begins.

But I must finish the vision! I must see how it ends.Alejandro pointed to the ground. The copper scrying bowl

had been tipped over, the wine almost drained away into thedirt. Forgive me, I had no choice. It was the only way towake you.

You had no right to interfere, Alejandro. What I see inthese visions is important.

Alejandro helped me to my feet, brushing the dirt frommy skirts. Mi querida, he murmured, his Spanish accentpronounced, your fury is quite charming. As is the flashin your eyes when you say Alejandro in your very Englishvoice. Have I ever told you that?

The Lady Elizabeth has ordered me to keep scrying andconsulting my books of magick, looking for any threat thatmay lie ahead for her, I countered, ignoring his question asdeliberately provocative. He put his arms about me, and it washard to push him away. Be serious, please, just for a moment.


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I am always serious with you. I know you serve la princesa

well, but might I suggest you find somewhere less dangerousto practise your scrying? His slow, warm smile made myheart flip over. Now that I have found the woman of mydreams, I would hate to lose her to the Inquisition.

The woman of his dreams? I was hardly that. Not only wasI that most forbidden of creatures, a witch, but I was also inthe pay of the Lady Elizabeth, whose dislike for the Catho-

lic faith was widely whispered at court. Yet there was no de-nying the heat between myself and Alejandro. That passionwas what had led him to offer me marriage, for Alejandrobelonged to a holy order which permitted its priests not onlyto fight in Gods name but also to marry.

Although I felt the same about him, however, and had se-cretly agreed to be his betrothed for a year and a day, I hadnot yet been able to give him a final answer. Life would notbe easy for such an ill-matched pair, after all.

Besides, our betrothal did not mean he could demand thesacrifice of my craft.

I turned away, tucking the copper scrying bowl away out ofsight under a dusty shelf, and stoppering the wine bottle I hadused to fill it before carefully hiding that too. They would beneeded next time I came here to scry in silence and solitude.

I am safe enough from the Inquisition, I insisted, thoughthe black-robed priests who prowled the court looking forheretics made me very nervous indeed. I halted before himand smiled up into his eyes. They do not even know of myexistence. Give me your patience a little while longer.

Frustration f lickered in his face, though he did not refuse.Instead, he put out a hand and tucked a loose strand of hairback under my courtly hood. You are beautiful, Meg, butvulnerable too. Do you have any idea of the horrors in storefor you if these activities should be discovered?


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How could he ask that? Alejandro had been present at the

horrible execution of my aunt, burned at the stake as a witchand a heretic. He must know that my last glimpse of Aunt Jane, screaming in agony as she was consumed by smoke andflame, had been scorched into my minds eye for ever.

I shall be more careful in future, I promised him.But you will not stop. It was a statement, not a question.I cannot, I whispered.

Not even for my sake? He held up the candle to see myface better. Not even though I am your betrothed and askit of you?

Beyond the closed door, I could hear clattering and shoutsfrom the vast roaring kitchens as hundreds of servants bustledabout, preparing a feast f it for the royal court.

I placed a hand on his chest, feeling the thud of his heartbeneath my fingers. I was born into this path. I cannot beother than a witch, any more than you could turn away from

your training in the priesthood. If your Order of Santiago didnot allow priests to wed, would you give up your calling tomarry me? I sighed. Please do not ask me to change whoI am, Alejandro.

He looked deep into my eyes, then nodded slowly. Sobe it.

For a long moment we gazed at each other without speak-ing. It was the first time in weeks we had managed to be alonetogether, and heat bloomed in my face at the sheer intensityof his look. Was this how love always felt, this exquisite ten-derness, as though my emotions had been scraped raw and

could not bear to be touched? I wanted so badly to speak, toadmit that my love for him was as strong as ever, despite theobstacles that fate had thrown between us. Yet I did not wishto break this love spell with the clumsiness of speech. Andwhat if he did not feel the same way?


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Alejandro bent his head and touched his lips to mine.

My arms clasped about his neck, and I kissed him back,temporarily pushing all my fears to one side as I let my heartrule my head.

We swayed together, tangled up in each other like strandsof wild honeysuckle, and then his arm came round my waist,pulling me even closer. Still I did not resist, lost to reason,wanting the moment to last for ever.

He made a strangled noise under his breath, and the heatof his kiss increased. Then suddenly he took an abrupt stepbackwards, holding the candle in a less than steady hand.Meg, we cannot

My cheeks were on fire. I knew he was right. But that didnot make the trembling ache inside me any less of a torment.

Yes I mean, no. We shouldgo, I managed unevenly,but could not resist brushing his cheek with my fingertips.That would be wise, Alejandro agreed with a crooked

smile, before I lose my head.It was only a joke. But I remembered Marcus Dent with

his axe, and shuddered.After the witchfinder had put me through a sickening trial

by waterbound and thrown into a pool, to drown if in-nocent, to be hanged if I survivedmy banishing spell hadtossed him into the void. I had thought him gone for ever.

Yet now Marcus Dent was appearing in my visions, seem-ingly unharmed by his ordeal. What could it mean?

Alejandro opened the door and bowed, allowing me to go

through before him.Meg, the Lady Elizabeth awaits you, he reminded mesoftly when I hesitated.

I nodded and squeezed past him in the dark narrow space.These were dangerous times at court, and I needed to focus


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on survival, not on the prickling heat I felt whenever I looked

at Alejandro.I had heard nothing of Marcus Dent since the Lady Eliza-beth had been summoned back to court earlier that spring.Now summer was approaching fast, and every day I fearedDents arrival. I did not know where he had vanished to afterWoodstock, nor how long my spell to silence him might last.

It was not a comfortable thought that my vision could be

a premonition of my death. If Marcus Dent had indeed re-turned from some otherworldly void, and was perhaps free toaccuse me of witchcraft once more, I would have no chanceagainst him. The word of a witchfinder must outweigh theword of a suspected witch every time.

I rejoined the Lady Elizabeth in the Great Hall, sidling inbehind her chair on the high dais and hoping that no one hadnoticed my absence. I had only slipped away for half an hourduring the dancing, after all, and with the Queen still keep-ing stubbornly to her apartments, these royal banquets neverdragged on much beyond nightfall anyway.

Blanche Parry shot me an accusing look but said nothing,pursing her lips and folding both arms across her ample chestas I begged a passing servant for a cup of ale. The princessslady-in-waiting knew better than to draw attention to myabsence when the King might overhear and punish our mis-tress for it instead.

Forgive me, I whispered to Blanche. I forgot the time.Mistress Parrys gaze f licked across the Great Hall to where

Alejandro had joined the black-robed priests at the back wall,his cowl drawn forward to hide his face.Indeed, she said drily. At your prayers again, were you?

Theyll make you a nun soon, you are so keen on your de-votions.


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I ignored her jibe, turning to watch the princess. Since

Queen Mary had summoned her to court from imprison-ment at Woodstock Palace, the Lady Elizabeth had becomea favourite with the courtiers. Some said too much of a fa-vourite, and that the Queen would send her sister away againonce the royal baby had been born.

Deep in conversation with His Majesty, the Lady Elizabethwas seated on the left hand of the King, simply dressed in a

plain black gown with a net of tiny pearls in her hair. Eliza-beth laughed at all King Philips jests and smiled in a flatter-ing way, her face f lushed and animated.

I spoke little Spanish, so could not follow what the prin-cess and King Philip were saying to each other. But courtiersthroughout the Great Hall were openly staring at the couple,their heads so close togetherthe Queens dark-haired Span-ish husband and her slim-waisted sister. Indeed, it could notbe denied that the princesss youth and shining reddish-goldhair were in contrast to Queen Marys dour looks.

Not that the court had seen much of Queen Mary in re-cent months. She still kept to her state apartments, insistingthat her baby was late. But King Philip showed so little in-terest that few still believed their Queen to be with child.Instead, the whispers spoke of a sickly Queen and a youngprincess who might well be married to the grieving Philipbefore the year was out.


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If you purchased this book without a cover you should be awarethat this book is stolen property. It was reported as unsold and

destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

ISBN-13: 978-0-373-21100-5

WITCHFALL

A Harlequin TEEN novel/April 2014

First published in Great Britain by Corgi Books, an imprint of Random HouseChildrens Books

A Random House Group Company

Copyright 2013 by Victoria Lamb

North American Edition Copyright 2014 by Victoria Lamb

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and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbiddenwithout the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited,225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either theproduct of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblanceto actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales isentirely coincidental.

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Witchfall by Victoria Lamb