Free The Silver Rose by Rowena May O'Sullivan Page A

criticized the most. “They were loud and clear. There was no mistaking what they were or what it means.”
    â€œWhen? When did this happen?”
    â€œSaturday night. Or, more accurately, the wee hours of Sunday morning during my usual contemplation with the Goddess.”
    Alanna appeared awed and horrified all at once. She grasped Rosa’s arm in a tight grip. “Why didn’t you tell us straight away?”
    Unable to articulate just how personal the entire experience had been, she simply said, “It’s impossible to explain. I don’t know if I can.” She really should have chosen a better place than a café to tell them. But she felt safer knowing Alanna was less likely to harass her in public. “I’m so unprepared. I needed time to think it through.”
    Beth accepted what Rosa told them immediately. She beamed from ear to ear. “There’ll be a marriage within the month. Your wedding tapestry is itching to be made.”
    The possibility of Rosa having to yield her magic or become a Black Witch and flame out was, it seemed, furthermost from Beth’s mind.
    But it was not far from Alanna’s. A born meddler, she took a more forthright and negative approach. Cheeks pale, her hazel eyes narrowed, she glared at Beth and then at Rosa. “We must take action.”
    â€œNo interference!” Rosa held up her palm to interrupt, knowing she was asking a lot. Beth would respect her wishes, and Rosa hoped she would temper Alanna’s propensity to go off half-cocked, especially when distressed, excited, and sleep-deprived.
    â€œI understand now.” The confidence in Beth’s happy voice was unmistakable.
    â€œYou do?” Rosa’s heart was in her throat. “Explain so I can understand too?”
    â€œI’ve been having the weirdest dreams. Now I understand why.” Beth picked up her spoon and finished off the last of her coddled egg.
    â€œDreams?” Rosa’s heart skipped a beat and fear lodged itself in her throat. “What dreams?”
    â€œEveryone is keeping secrets,” Alanna harrumphed, a flash of envy lacing her words. “You with the bells and Beth with the dreams. I’ve had nothing. Not a thing, except that my damn sculpture isn’t happening. My muse has up and left me all alone.”
    Rosa repressed the urge to reprimand Alanna for her selfishness, but her focus was on Beth, whose dreams could be an important clue to finding her mate. She was a Spell Weaver. Future events often revealed themselves in dreams prior to her casting them into tapestries.
    â€œThe dreams haven’t been clear. If you’d told me earlier, I might’ve made the connection. I would’ve put two and two together and saved you unnecessary worry.”
    Alanna chewed on a piece of toast smeared with a heavy layer of jam, a clear indication to Rosa that her sister was upset. Alanna hated jam. “So, do you think Aden has something to do with it?”
    â€œMaybe. I don’t know. I can’t see any magic in his aura. Just huge potential. But he did turn up within twenty-four hours of my hearing them.”
    â€œHe’s definitely not a warlock,” Alanna said. “We’d know if he was.”
    â€œBut he has more potential than any other mortal I’ve ever met,” Beth echoed Rosa. “Oodles of it! He could very well be the one for you.”
    Rosa shook her head in denial. She was not going to get her hopes up just yet. “He can’t be. He’s a drifter. A man of no fixed abode.”
    Alanna’s derisive snort cut through the room, turning a few heads in their direction. “A very rich, successful drifter. If you don’t want him, tell him to drift up to my studio any time.”
    â€œIt’s not what I want. It’s what the bells want, and how am I supposed to know what that is?”
    â€œWell, for a start, you can listen to me,” Beth