Last Witch Standing (Mountain Witch Saga)
Read Last Witch Standing (Mountain Witch Saga) Online
Authors: Jonathan Grimm
Last
Witch Standing
Mountain
Witch Saga Book 2
Sequel
to Run, Witch, Run
Jonathan
R. Grimm
Copyright
© 2012 Jonathan R. Grimm
All
Rights Reserved
ISBN:
ISBN-13:
978-0615683768
ISBN-10:0615683762
Cover
Photograph:
©
Ioana Grecu | Dreamstime.com
Table
of Contents
Monday, May 14, 1973
The Citadel Universe
Katie ran through the undergrowth, stirring up clouds of
spikelets from foxtail that flourished by the lake. The Citadel stood proudly
atop the hill, a stone sentinel keeping watch over the elegant gardens
nourished by water from the streams that fed into the lake below. Katie hopped
atop the fence that marked the southern boundary of the vegetable garden. She
did a little dance on the tips of the white pickets, then hopped down and
two-stepped through the rows of squash, landing upon their large leaves, like a
frog on lily pads, yet doing no damage.
This time I will get my lake back.
They think I only collect tablets for them in the ruins. They do not know that
I can read and understand the instructions written on them.
“Good morning Katie," the Headmistress of the
Citadel’s academy called from the lake shore beyond the garden. She was quite
tall. Katie would call her regal. The regal-ness was especially prominent in
her dark blue Victorian dress with lace around the wrists and high neckline.
Her salt and pepper hair was held in place by a polished rosewood hairpiece.
Around the Headmistress, on a checkered blanket spread on the lush green grass,
were several pupils, all holding pencils. On their laps were books and tablets,
books
Katie
would’ve given anything to own. All eyes were on Katie, who’d stopped atop one
particularly large squash leaf.
She emerged from the garden and peeked through the picket
fence. Her cerulean blue eyes were oversized for her child-like face. A pink
headband held her golden ochre hair firmly in place.
"Come, sit with us," the Headmistress summoned,
although she knew Katie was too skittish to come so close.
Katie jumped the fence and approached to within
half-a-dozen meters of the party and gestured towards a freshly-built structure
at the corner of the lake. The mill's wheels turned slowly, adding a charm to a
scene the English landscape artist, John Constable, would have been proud to
paint.
“We can’t move the mill, Katie. The fishies go around it.
You can too.”
Katie gestured a second time.
Why didn’t Headmistress
understand it ruined everything having it there?
"No, dear. We have already discussed this. Let's hear
no more about it," Headmistress Mary-Beth Simplice answered, adding a
touch of sternness to the last sentence.
Mrs. Simplice's pupils looked at Katie, small smiles
curling from the edges of their mouths. The oldest, Karen, a light brown haired
young woman of 17, held out her hand. Next to her, Jakob, a youth, only
slightly younger, lounged close enough to the girl to imply the intimacy of
long familiarity. Katie did not look at the girl, but instead, reached a hand
into the pocket of her yellow dress, removed an item, and put it behind her
back.
“What do you have there?” Karen asked.
“What do you have, sugar-plum?” Jakob, the young man,
asked. He was dressed in a white cotton long sleeve shirt and tan riding pants.
His boots were carefully polished and reflected the sunlight. He lay on the cloth,
his
head resting on his palm, an unfinished apple next to him.
Katie beamed. She was enjoying this.
Just wait until
Headmistress sees what I have, sees what I can do.
“Did you find something in the woods or the old village?
Perhaps something you might like to trade for some pretties?” Headmistress
Simplice asked.
Katie nodded no.
“Did you find an artifact? Or, perchance another old
tablet? The last one you brought us was quite useful.”
Again, Katie nodded no and smiled, her toes tapping the
ground. Overhead, a flock of sparrows dotted the ultramarine blue sky on their
way to nest in the cover of the brush at the far end of the lake.
“Well, Katie obviously feels she won the jackpot. What did
you find?” Mary-Beth asked.
Jakob sat up straight. All now stared at Katie.
This is
just right; they are all paying attention to me.
Katie brought her hand
from behind her back. Inside her palm lay a ball of blue plasma. It illuminated
her face like stage lighting directed upwards towards a performer.
“Run!” Headmistress yelled to the students and dropped her
book.
Katie, like an Olympic competitor hurling a shot put, sent
the blue fireball at the mill. The projectile was visible as it traced a
parabola in the air, picking up speed as it went. The mill erupted into flame
when hit. Shards of stone and timber flew in all directions. Soon, black smoke
and dust obscured the area around it. From the distance, she could smell the
structure as it burned.
Katie went to where the students had been and stood triumphantly
facing the mill as the fires consumed it. She raised her fist to the sky and
grinned, her baby teeth glistening in the light.
Sixteen Months Earlier
Christmas Morning, December 25, 1971
Earth
“Sh! Quiet!” Dan Edwards said to his sister, Katie. They
crouched in the hall, peering through the white balustrades of the stairway,
trying to get a peek down at the Christmas tree below.
“I am!” Katie answered.
The Christmas lights lit the room. Dan could see the
cookies they had left for Santa on the coffee table were gone, only crumbs
remaining on the plate he and Katie had set out the night before. He had been
there.
A door opened down the hall.
“Hurry.” Dan herded his little sister back into the
bedroom. He jumped into his bed, and pulled the covers over him. Katie just
stood in the center of the room, in her nightgown, staring at him.
There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Dan said.
Keith Edwards peeked his head in. “Ready?”
Dan hopped out of bed. Katie grabbed his arm and their
father led them down the stairs. Their mother was already in the living room
and smiled at them as they entered.
She must have seen us on the stairs.
A Big Wheel was in the corner by the tree, a pink bow
wrapped around each handle.
Their mother put
GOODYEAR’S Joyous Songs of Christmas
LP
on the phonograph.
“Santa Claus arranged your gifts like this.” Keith Edwards
pointed towards two stacks. “Katie’s here, and Dan’s there.”
“I know you two are anxious to see what Santa left, but let’s
get some pictures first,” Patricia Edwards said. In her right hand she held a
Polaroid Colorpack II Land Camera Dan and Katie had picked out, with their
father’s help and funds, for last year’s Christmas gift.
Katie stood so close to Dan as their mother snapped
pictures with her Polaroid that he almost lost his balance and tumbled
backwards into the tree. He took a deeper stance and put his arm around her.
Their mother had to adjust the front lens knob to refocus before she flashed a
final picture.
“Okay, kids. Let’s open your presents.” Their father took a
seat on the reclining chair by the fire.
Katie tore the wrapping paper off the first gift.
“Katie, dear, I think the Big Wheel is yours,” Patricia
Edwards said.
“Okay.” Katie looked up, then returned to removing the
paper from the next present.
“What do you have?” her father asked.
“I don’t know.” Katie turned the box in her hands.
“Here, bring it to me, and let’s see.” Her mother drew
yellow cloth from the box. “It’s a sundress.”
“It’s pretty.” Katie brought it to her father to examine.
“Beautiful,” he said.
Beside Dan lay a desk set. Pens, a notepad, a stapler and a
container for paperclips. It would come in handy for his projects. He was
always having to go downstairs to use the stapler in his father’s study. He
reached for the next package. It was heavy and came up to his chest as he
kneeled and began removing the wrapping paper.
Requires assembly.
That
was always good news. Dan was good with his hands and liked building things. He
tore the paper diagonally across. On the front of the exposed box was a picture
of a radio controlled P-51 Mustang. Gas powered. Perfect. He couldn’t wait to
show his best friend, Jimmie.
No BB gun this year. He could always play with Jimmie’s.
Ring, ring. The telephone call. The one his father got from
an old army buddy every year since Korea.
Katie sat staring into the window of an ant farm. Dan knew
this would keep her busy for a long time – and out of his hair. Within a week
the colony would be filled with ant tunnels. She was fascinated by anything to
do with science and experimentation and her Christmas gifts reflected this. No
dolls for her.
Dan helped his mother collect the used wrapping paper.
Katie was too preoccupied with her presents to notice as they gently pulled a
piece from under her foot. “Mom, I’m gonna run next door, see what Jimmie’s
got,” Dan said after they had cleaned up the living room.
“Okay, don’t be too long. We’ll have breakfast soon.”
The Sanderson’s curtain was open. Jimmie saw Dan coming and
met him at the gate.
“What ya get?” Dan asked his friend.
“A pellet gun,” Jimmie answered.
Dan halted. This was too much. On the other hand, if Jimmie
was occupied with his new pellet rifle, that would be more time for Dan to use the
BB gun.
The rifle was a Sheridan pump, the model advertised in
Boy’s
Life
magazine. One look and Dan knew it was well made and would easily
outshoot Jimmie’s Red Ryder BB gun.
“I got a scope for it,” Jimmie said.
Dan held it in his hands and admired it. The stock was of deep,
finished rosewood and the barrel of heavy gunmetal. This was not a toy.
“Try it.” Jimmie dug a pellet from his pocket. “Only one
pump. My Dad has to build a trap for it. It goes right through the backstop.”
Jimmie showed him how to load a pellet and pump it. Dan
took aim at a Coke can and fired. Plink! The can flew off the stand. The recoil
was less than the BB gun and Dan could tell it was far more accurate. At least
as accurate as the .22 rifles he shot at summer camp.
Dan was met by the smell of pancakes when he returned home.
His father dozed in his reclining chair as Mrs. Edwards worked in the kitchen.
Katie was pushing a train car across the floor, yelling, “Choo choo”. Beside
her lay an opened B/O Railroad train set.