“I guess…I wouldn’t mind knowing where I came from one day,” said Kate slowly. She turned around.
Stewart was sitting at the table, leaning back in his chair, watching her. His dark hair was a little long and framed sculpted features. His shoulders were broad, arms well muscled. He looked more like a soldier than an archaeologist. How could an archaeologist, a university professor, be so fit?
“Where did you come from?” Stewart asked, looking up.
“I was left at Saint Anne’s as a newborn. The nuns knew nothing about me. I came from…nowhere,” she said. The kettle whistled and she turned off the burner, “Its not uncommon for young mothers to abandon infants I’m told. It happens every day.”
“You said you wanted to know more about our brand of witchcraft,” said Stewart. “That kind of information has a price much higher than a token thrown into a Beltane fire. My associates and I share a commitment more binding than…marriage let’s say. Its not something to be undertaken lightly.”
Kate pulled plates and a teacake from the cupboard and placed both on the table along with the teapot and cups. A moment later she sat across from him, eyes lowered. “I don’t want to get married. I’m just curious.”
“Pity,” said Stewart. “We’d like to have you. We have a use for a woman just at the moment. Generally we don’t.”
“What kind of use?” Kate asked.
“Kate, that’s not the way it works.”
Once again she was struck by their odd color. Gray, like broken stone. She could see flecks of silver, or was it blue in their depths.
“You have to join and serve just like the rest of us…”
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