Read Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins Online
Authors: Margeaux Laurent
Tags: #vampires, #magic, #witchcraft, #magic fanasy low fantasy historical fantasy folklore, #occult thriller, #magik, #occult fiction, #occult paranormal
I looked up nervously, “I have never seen
anything in my book that alludes to a spell that will destroy a
Puca…”
“Martha believed that when you shattered his
amulet at the Ball, that you also decreased his powers to shield
himself from your spells. She said that the stone was ancient and
very powerful, but you have weakened him.”
“Can he still transform into the Puca?” Becky
inquired, as she folded her arms around her waist.
“Yes,” Greer sounded upset by his own
answer.
“Then that is what he was looking for at the
quarters,” Becky answered, “He needs another amulet to block our
spells and he thought he could find one at my home.”
“Did Martha say how we were to defeat him?” I
asked in haste.
Greer clenched his knuckles tightly together,
his frustration so overwhelming that he started to shake, “She just
said to
. . . trust in the magic
.”
CHAPTER THRITY-FIVE
Evening
My mother sat in the back parlor working on
her embroidery. I knew she was trying to ignore me. She was still
angry that Martha had forced her out of the plans to take down
Lamont.
“I do not hate Greer,” she finally stated,
after an hour of silence.
I lifted my head from the book and put down
my quill. I had been making notes on a separate piece of paper,
jotting down anything that might be helpful to pass along to
Becky.
“Martha was correct though. I do not trust
him,” she said angrily.
“Martha trusted him. Isn't that enough for
you?” I asked with a hint of resentment in my tone.
“It should be enough, but it is not. Aislin,
please keep your guard up. Everything that has happened occurred
after you met him. Remember that,” she said, as she furiously
ripped out a line of thread that she had sewn incorrectly.
“Then you should not forget that it has been
Greer who has saved me numerous times!” I countered.
“He killed Martha!” she shrieked as she threw
her embroidery ring at me and stomped from the room.
I saw the embroidery hoop flying in my
direction and deflected its path, forcing it to fall onto the chase
lounge in the corner of the room.
“Oh and Mother,” she stopped in the doorway
at my words, “I have placed a blocking spell on you. If you try to
hex my relationship with Greer, you will destroy your own
relationships as well,” I said coldly. She turned and slammed the
door behind her.
********************
Supper was in an hour's time. I set the table
in silence and ignored my mother when she tried to apologize.
“Aislin,” she said weakly, as I placed the
dishes on the table. “I am sorry.”
I gave her a scathing look and continued to
busy myself.
“Aislin, I cannot lose you too. First my
family in Ireland, then the woman who took me in as her own . . .
now you,” her voice cracked and she leaned on the table to steady
herself. “What am I to do if something happens to you?”
As angry as I was at her for distrusting
Greer, I felt pity for her. I walked over and hugged her.
“I understand how you feel. We have gone
through so much in the past few months. You are right. Greer has
been there through all of these happenings, but he has been the
reason I am still alive.”
At my last words, she stiffened and threw my
arms off her, “Stop trying to defend him Aislin. It will not work.
This is how I feel.”
********************
At dinner, my father talked about the news
going through town and how all the slaveholders were becoming
anxious by Lamont's presence.
“There are rumblings that this Lamont chap
might be trying to kill off all the slaves, and their owners are
getting nervous about it. Many of the townsmen cannot afford to
replace the slaves that Lamont may have executed. The end result is
that many are starting to question his techniques.”
I kept my head down and listened. I needed to
gather as much information as I could so I could help Becky and her
family, as well as everyone else that was now apparently in
peril.
“What has aroused their suspicion?” my mother
asked.
“Well, apparently after Martha was discovered
to be dead, Lamont lost his temper. He was demanding an explanation
from the soldiers who were supposed to be guarding her. One of the
soldiers curiously recounted that they became very tired and fell
asleep, as though they were drugged. Lamont did not accept this
story and in his anger, he struck the guard so hard that he broke
the poor fellow's jaw. Between that and the interrogation of the
slaves, many of the townsmen are fed up,” my father said in between
bites.
“What are they planning to do?” my mother
asked, as she refilled my father’s glass with water.
“Well for one thing, they are going to the
church for a meeting. The townsmen are starting to talk about
pressing Lamont for answers. Some of the men believe there is a
connection between when he showed up in town and when the killings
started.”
His words caught my attention, “Do they
really believe that Lamont is behind the attacks?”
My father wiped his mouth with his napkin and
nodded, “Some do, although most do not. Apparently, he was spotted
at the Marthaler's when we all went to investigate the livestock
slaughter. People are starting to place him with the attacks. Did
you know that he was at the Ball the night that Zachariah died?” he
said casually.
“Yes . . . I knew,” I stood from the table
and cleared my place, and then went to my room to think.
CHAPTER THRITY-SIX
Things had grown quiet in the past weeks
time. The townsmen have questioned Lamont’s tactics, and the
Governor heard an earful from those who did not want to lose money
over hysteria
Although the Governor did not like being
questioned by mere subjects, he was a very savvy politician and
knew when he needed to take the displeasure of his supporters into
account. He, in turn, told the Minister that the witch-hunt was
officially disbanded. Lamont's only concern was to find the
creature that killed Clement and he would continue to provide the
soldiers for the hunt. The Governor did not want another person
executed or interrogated on his watch.
Becky and I believed that Lamont's powers
were decreasing and that he no longer had the ability to hold both
the Governor and the Minister under his hex.
“He needed my mother's powers to stay strong
and now he is being cut off from all chances of regaining his
strength,” said Becky, as she looked out the window of my room.
“If he has grown as weak as we suspect, do
you think that he will give up his hunt for me?” I asked
hopefully.
“No,” Greer replied as he pet Sneachta, “He
was defiantly searching for something at Becky's and I'm guessing
he's looking for a protection charm.”
“He is a powerful sorcerer… so what is
keeping him from casting a charm on another amulet?” Becky thought
aloud, as she flopped on the bed next to me.
“Well, I know Martha told me that charming an
item takes strong magic and involved rituals. Some even require a
specific moon phase, so maybe he has not had time yet. Or perhaps
he needs a more ancient magic to deflect our spells the way he used
to . . .” I trailed off.
“You are saying that there is a chance he can
regain his strength if he gets to the right moon cycle?” Greer
asked anxiously.
“Aye,” I replied, “I do not know which phase
he would need. My book does not contain every spell known to man,
just the ones that my ancestors have put in it.”
“So we are once again blind,” Becky
groaned.
“No. We still have our own magic,” I said as
I lit a candle, “We can figure out what he is up to.”
********************
Becky sealed the room with her mother's black
salt and chanted as she worked. I cast a circle and sat in the
center of it, as Greer listened at the door to make sure that my
father did not come barging into my room.
In the center of the circle, I placed a
candle and my scrying bowl. I asked the Goddess to send me guidance
and then placed my attention into the water.
I could hear Greer pacing the room, Sneachta
flicking her tail, and Becky chanting as she consulted her
ancestors. I breathed in deeply and concentrated all my energy on
the flat sheet of water that was before me. Finally, all the noises
around me dissipated and images appeared.
“The past,” my guide told me as I saw myself
at the Governor's Ball and my hand pulling the amulet from the neck
of Lamont. I saw it shatter and then the image faded. I saw him
flicker into view as he walked through the trees at Rebecca's house
after killing her family. I saw him waiting for the power to fill
and revitalize him, but it never came. Another image appeared—I was
with Martha and she was teaching me to manipulate the element of
fire. The image faded again. I was now looking down one of
Burlington's side streets. I was standing behind the market house,
and my mother was inside the building rolling pumpkins. It was the
day before Samhain.
“Look closely,” my guide said, as I leaned
forward, my nose almost touching the glassy water. I watched as my
figure moved down the side street. Then I saw a little boy, his
back was to me, and he was sitting on the ground by himself. He was
playing with a toy and it hung in the air before him. He used his
magic to spin it repeatedly and made it dance. He laughed. Then
another little boy crept from the shadows and yanked the doll from
the air . . . It was Mathew Marthaler and the other little boy was
Isaac.
That was why Mathew wanted the tattered
little doll. That was why he had tried to steal it from Isaac . . .
Isaac is a witch.
I pulled myself from the scrying bowl.
“Stay!” The guide said forcefully, as I tried
to pull myself from the images.
My heart was pounding as the image changed. I
saw a small house and a group of soldiers lingering about. One man
was distinct from the rest. He was in a long black coat and he wore
heavy black boots. I did not need the spirits to show me his face.
I already knew it was Lamont.
A tall soldier was looming over Becky and her
husband Pete. They were being interrogated at a table by the
window. I followed Lamont as he walked away from the crowded table.
He was searching for something.
Lamont sensed something; he walked to the
cabin’s front door and opened it. He stood in the doorway and
stared out into the front courtyard where Isaac was playing with
his little doll in the snow. Lamont watched as the child made his
toy fly through the air.
A horrible realization overcame me.
Lamont
was not looking for an amulet in the slave quarters…he was looking
for a witch who’s powers he could steal…he is going to kill
Isaac
!
“Isaac!” Becky and I screamed
simultaneously.
********************
Without another word, we fled from the room.
Greer followed close behind us as we sped passed my mother and
father, not bothering to answer their questions as we raced from
the house and into the street. Greer grabbed us and took us both to
the slave quarters more quickly than Becky and I could run, even at
our accelerated pace.
Becky ran to her friend's home who was
supposed to be watching Isaac, but her friend said that the
soldiers had come into the quarters again and caused a great
commotion. Many of the children were still hiding in fright.
Becky burst through the front door of her
home and we started searching the house for her child.
“Isaac, Isaac!” she screamed, and we ran
about, knocking over anything under which he could be hiding. He
was not there. It was as though he had vanished.
Becky ran to her neighbors and started
questioning if they had seen her son. None had. They had not seen
him all day, and most thought that he was with her. Pete was
working at the Smith's stables and had not taken Isaac with him. He
felt that Isaac was far too small to be around horses.
Becky and I did not hesitate, we ran west
into the woods, and then south towards the Leeds' home. It was
hidden deep in the surrounding forests, and the shed where Lamont
was lodging was a little ways passed the main house. The home was
far from the main town and we had a long run before us, but neither
of us stopped, we simply ran as hard and as fast as we could.
It was still light out, but as we ran further
into the pine forest
,
the visibility decreased. The deeper
we went into the woods, the more light was filtered out, until
eventually the shadows started to meld together.
Night would be coming soon. Winter brought
the moon out so early that we would be racing through darkness in
no time.
I felt branches whip against my face as I
ran. I felt a few stings as my skin was slashed from the thorns,
but I did not stop. Greer had gone up ahead to be a sentry and I
followed close behind Becky.
“What are we going to do?” I panted, as we
continued to leap over rocks and press our way passed the
thicket.
“I do not know. We just need to get Isaac
back.” Becky was transfixed on her son.
I understood that, but I also knew that
Lamont would not be so willing to let us just walk into his
residence and take the boy. As I thought of that, the realization
came over me.
We were walking into a trap
.
“Becky stop,” I gasped, as I reached for her
arm.
“We have no time,” she said, as she twisted
her arm free.
As Becky lunged back into a sprint, I
followed. We were coming passed Rebecca's home and I felt my
stomach lurch as I thought of her. I knew that Becky was thinking
the same thoughts and she quickened her pace even further.