The Kuthun (16 page)

‘I realised that at the core of it all you haven’t really been given a choice here. You didn’t ask for this burden, but it’s your birthright and you have to protect yourself. I can accept that,’ she says with conviction.

I sigh. ‘Alright. But did you want to know anything else?’

She shakes her head. ‘Not right now. I think it may be better that I don’t know too much, otherwise my cocky bravado might implode and then I’ll really be freaked out.’

I nod, knowing that it is safer if she doesn’t know too much anyway.

‘So let’s get over it and have a little girly time.’ She throws my pillow at my head and we go downstairs, where Uncle Jo’s booming laughter echoes out from the kitchen.

‘Hey sleepy head. Feeling any better?’ he asks, his eyes never leaving the television where Will Ferrell is doing stand-up.

‘Yep, thanks,’ I say as we walk into the kitchen. He laughs again and Phoebe and I can’t help but chuckle along with him. It’s infectious. I don’t know how he’s even laughing after what happened today but I like hearing the sound.

We grab what we need out of the fridge and make our way into the lounge room, where the fire is already burning bright. The coffee table has been moved and our spare mattresses and pillows have been laid out on the floor in a super comfortable arrangement in front of the TV.

Phoebe says, ‘I think we should do s’mores first don’t you?’

I take in her curvy but thin frame. ‘Where do you put all this food, Phoebs?’

She shrugs. ‘Don’t know. Maybe I’m just a natural burner.’

‘But how do you burn if you don’t actually move much?’ I ask sarcastically.

She gives me a sassy look. ‘I move! I’m just more of a…stationary exerciser.’ She pops a marshmallow into her mouth.

I laugh.

As we rotate our marshmallows in the fire she says, ‘What’s it like?’

‘What’s what like?’

‘Having witch blood?’ she asks while blowing off her semi-burnt marshmallow and putting it on the chocolate biscuit.

I stare into the flames. No-one has ever asked me that before. Apart from Uncle Jo and Mum nobody has ever been privy to our family history
.
Phoebe’s right, it is a burden sometimes.
‘Well, it is what it is. I don’t know any different, so it’s hard for me to explain.’ I shrug.

She raises an eyebrow. ‘That’s it? Pretty lame, E. You’re not giving me much to work with here.’ I smile lightly and shrug. She looks at me curiously. ‘Well, what about your dad. Was he killed too?’

My dad. That’s someone I haven’t thought of in forever. ‘I never knew my dad. He was never a part of my life, so I can’t tell you what happened to him. It was just me and Mum for as long as I can remember.’

‘Huh. Well what about your uncle. Does he have super powers?’

I smile. ‘No. It’s just me.’

‘Are you sure?’ she asks suspiciously. ‘Because he has this way about him that is unnerving sometimes.’

‘I know what you mean. I tell him that all the time.’

We are silent for a moment while we put together our s’mores. The fire crackles in the hearth and the room feels warm and homely. I glance up at the pictures that adorn the walls and look upon the faces of my family.

Most of them are dead now.

Aunt Lily walks in carrying a tray of hot chocolate. ‘Hey girls, I thought you could use some refreshments.’ She places the tray down onto the coffee table. ‘Is there anything else I can get you?’ She looks at us expectantly, probably hoping we will keep her busy in the kitchen.

I smile softly. ‘No thanks. I think we’re good for now.’

‘Okay then, well…call out if you need anything.’ She wipes her hands on her apron and walks back out.

I hear the doggy door swing open and Magi comes padding in, plonking herself down by the lounge. She watches me, her amber eyes following my every movement. When she feels satisfied that all is fine, she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.

‘Are you scared, E?’ she asks quietly.

I nod.

‘Me too,’ she says.

I lift my chin. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you, Phoebs.’

‘It’s not me I’m worried about.’ Her brown eyes brush over me before she looks away sadly.

An uneasiness settles over us and before I can say anything else she grabs the remote and presses play.

The next morning I wake up with a sugar headache.
I stifle a laugh as I roll over to find Phoebe lightly snoring with bits of marshmallow still stuck to her face.

I didn’t dream last night and smile at the thought, glad to have had a reprieve from the visions if only for one night. I stay under the covers and listen to the sound of silence around me.

‘Good morning,’ Phoebe mumbles under her breath. She yawns and stretches her arms, emitting a cracking sound from her back.

‘Morning,’ I reply.

‘Did you sleep alright?’ she asks, not fully awake yet.

‘I slept great. I feel heaps better this morning.’

‘Good. Me too. Although I have a pounding headache. Think I ate too much, as usual.’ She groans as she places her hand on her forehead.

I throw the blankets off and hop up from the mattress. ‘I’ll make us a coffee.’

‘Good idea.’ She yawns again. ‘I’ll just stay here then.’

I walk into the kitchen and pop the button on the kettle. As I look out the kitchen window that sits above the sink I see that the sun is shining and the wind is calm. It’s going to be a nice day.

In the distance I watch Uncle Jo herding up the cows, obviously getting them ready for milking. Magi is helping him by skirting around the back of the herd like a sheepdog. I see one cow flick out its rear hoof trying to kick her out of the way but Magi is too quick and moves aside before rushing in to nip it on its shank. I smile as I go about making the coffee.

‘Here’s yours, Phoebs.’ I place the mug down beside her.

‘Thanks.’ She raises herself up on one elbow and blows away the steam. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking. Why does this…’ She pauses, waiting for me to understand who she is talking about.

‘Venator,’ I finish for her.

‘Venator. That’s such a strange name.’ She frowns.

‘It means hunter in Latin,’ I say.

She shakes her head. ‘Yeah, well it should mean douche bag in English!’

I laugh, spilling coffee on myself.

‘Anyway, why does he want to kill you? I mean really, it doesn’t make sense?’

I share with her some of the details surrounding the curse, starting with Isabella Cole, and she thinks about this new information.

‘Yeah, still, what would killing you solve? Other than redeeming that woman’s pride, which let’s be honest is sort of mute now she’s dead, why keep hunting you?’

I hadn’t really looked at it from that perspective before. She has a point. ‘Actually, I don’t know now that you’ve said that. It does sound pretty silly.’

‘I’ve seen the movies. I know that most people kill out of revenge or jealousy, power or greed. But in all of those cases it usually happens because the person is trying to prevent the other from something,’ she says taking a sip of coffee.

I frown. ‘What do you mean
prevent
?’

‘Well, they don’t want the other person to be happy or to move on without them. They don’t want the other person to have more money or power or success.’ She shrugs her shoulders as if this realisation should be obvious. ‘Or maybe they are just plain old scared.’

Her words hit a nerve. What
are
they trying to prevent? My skin prickles as I sit there contemplating her words. There is truth in it, I can feel it.

‘You may have a point,’ I say distractedly. ‘But what would they be scared of?’

She pauses for a moment, peering at me from across the rim of her mug. ‘You!’

I sit up straighter. ‘Are you serious? Why would they be scared of me?’

‘Uh…do you recall what you were able to do from the car earlier? You morphed into someone else for a second, and your powers were pretty amazing.’

I think about what she’s said. Could the Puritans really see us as being a threat? Is that what all this is about? And if they do, what is it that they know and we don’t?

Aunt Lily quickly pops her head into the lounge room. ‘Phoebe, your mum called earlier. She said she would pick you up in a bit to go to soccer.’

‘Ugh! Thanks, Mrs. O,’ Phoebe groans.

‘Soccer?’ I ask.

‘I promised Mum I would go with her to see Tom play soccer today. To keep her company,’ she says.

‘Oh, well that’s cool. I’ve got to do research with Uncle Jo today anyway,’ I reply, relieved that I didn’t have to tell Phoebe she had to leave early.

‘Yep, okay. I suppose I better get my things together then.’ She makes a move to get up and we pack away the room.

A short while later we hear her car pull up in the driveway.

‘Alright, well ring me if there’s any new information and…just ring me anyway if you want a chat, okay?’ She hugs me as she opens the front door.

‘I will,’ I say and wave her out. I wait until I see her pull away before I shut the door once more. I decide that I better go find Uncle Jo so we can get started on this research. I need to find answers.

As I head out the back I pull on my polka dot gumboots, breathing in the fresh mountain air as I walk towards the barn.

Magi sees me walking in her direction and comes running up to me, tail wagging. ‘Hey, Mags. What you doing girl?’ I scratch her behind the ear. She licks my hand and we walk towards the barn together.

Uncle Jo is bent over something and he has his welders mask on. Sparks are flying up into the air. ‘Uncle Jo!’ I yell. It takes me three more tries before he hears me and turns off the welder.

He flips the mask up, revealing his face. ‘Hey.’ He places the welder down and positions himself in front of whatever it is he’s working on.

I frown. ‘Um…what are you doing out here?’ I ask suspiciously, trying to see around his large frame.

‘Uh, not much. Just had a few ideas that’s all.’ He peels his gloves off. ‘So what can I do for you?’

He’s being elusive. ‘I wanted to know when we could get started on that research we talked about?’

‘Now is as good a time as any,’ he responds as he walks towards me, still masking my view of the secret thingy. What is he up to?

He wraps his arm around my shoulders and we walk back to the house. ‘Do you think he’s out there?’ I ask him, as I look towards the tree line where only a couple of nights ago Magi nearly died.

‘No. I think at the very least he was hurt. The way you flipped that car had to have left a mark,’ he says with certainty.

The images of yesterday come flooding back. ‘I’m still unsure how that all happened,’ I say quietly.

‘It’s alright, Ellie. I think your little kuthun friend may have helped on that one. It was glowing as bright as the sun right before the car flipped. So I think we can assume that through using your power, you also channelled
its
power, creating one very explosive reaction.’

We walk the rest of the way in silence and after heading inside I go and retrieve the laptop while he gets his maps, paper and pens from his study nook. We meet back at the kitchen table, rearranging it into a research station, and sit down to begin what now appears to be a very long day ahead.

‘Right. First I need to bring you up to date with important information I found while working for the government. You need to understand where I was up to and maybe we can work out the rest together.’

I nod in agreement and shuffle closer to him, taking in his familiar earthy scent.

He pulls out a large world map with “Cole Family Tree” written in bold at the top. The regions of America, Europe, The Middle East and Africa have all been magnified and there are boxes that have been drawn onto the map highlighting different areas within these regions.

Inside these boxes are the names of Cole women who have come before me. Names of women I have never heard of before. Names that would have remained unknown if it wasn’t for his research.

Central to these is the box containing Isabella’s name, located in Salem. From there the bloodline branches out to reveal the path of its past, which only adds to the intricacy of the information in front of me.

Uncle Jo begins to explain what it all means. He begins tracing the line with his finger, taking me through the eras of our ancestry. He takes me back through the Salem years which stems up into Vancouver and Whitehorse in Canada. The bloodline then reaches back down into Denver and travels through to San Francisco, into Mexico, and then Philadelphia. From there it enters Portugal, then Madrid and along the Spanish coast. The trail then leads into Bordeaux France, then Italy, and through to Greece. The bloodline finally finishes its journey heading into Turkey, then Beirut and ending with a large asterisk in Cairo, Egypt.

‘From this point on the trail goes cold,’ he says pointing to Cairo. ‘I have more information though that might help us.’ He grabs the box marked “Archives” and begins to pull out reams of paper that contain the findings and details about each woman that he was able to track down—their birth details, next of kin, their children’s names, cause of death, and so on.