The Kuthun (2 page)

I shut my eyes trying to recall the memory, but it seems as though it doesn’t want to be revealed for now. I frown and look up, noticing that Uncle Jo is staring at me intently.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asks concerned.

I give him a light smile. ‘Yes, fine. I was just admiring how beautiful this charm is. It’s funny, but I feel as though I’ve seen this before. I just can’t seem to place it.’ I shrug with the distinct feeling I am missing something.

He stares at me thoughtfully before placing his mug down on the counter top. ‘Well it may come back to you. How about you finish eating, give that dog of yours some more bacon before she engulfs us all with her drool, and get ready for school. I have a present for you outside when you’re ready.’ He winks and lays his hand on my shoulder as he walks past.

Aunt Lily is leaning against the kitchen bench looking after Uncle Jo with a curious expression. ‘You know, he sometimes has this way of looking at you like he already knows what is going through your head,’ she says.

‘I know what you mean. That particular biological reaction seems to run in the family.’ I smile and throw Magi some more bacon before heading upstairs to get ready for school.

I walk into my room and place the box with the
charm in it on top of my antique dresser, where Audrey Hepburn is smiling down on me from upon the wall. I can’t shake the feeling that I know this charm somehow. While thinking about it I start to brush my hair.

As if in a trance I peer down, mesmerised by its glistening form, and feel compelled to pick it up. I carefully pull it out of the box, watching the waves of colour dance within it as I rest it softly in my palm, my fist closes around it protectively. I shut my eyes.

I reel back in shock as I open my eyes, finding myself in a swarm of people who are gathered in a village square of some sort. The outline of old, run-down buildings surrounding me on all sides.

I see nothing but people all scrambling amongst one another—some shouting, others crying. The distinct smell of fear and violence hangs in the air and I look around me in panic, trying to make sense of where I could be.

Without thinking I quickly turn to the man next to me and tap him on the shoulder but he doesn’t respond. I tap him again. ‘Excuse me sir, but where are we?’ I ask in a high pitched voice, bordering on hysteria. He doesn’t even acknowledge that I am there.

What is going on? Where the bloody hell am I?

I turn in confusion to the woman behind me. ‘Excuse me.’ She doesn’t even look at me or respond in any way. I wave a hand across her vision…nothing. They can’t see me.

It then occurs to me that somehow, by magic I would assume, I have been teleported to another time and place. I look around for some understanding, for some clue as to why this has happened, and then it dawns on me…it must be the charm.

I look down at it still nestled within my palm, curious as to its origin and the power it holds. A moment later my vision wanes and before I know what is happening my eyes close again.

When I open them I am standing back in my room, with the hair brush in one hand and the charm in the other. Trembling I put the brush down and catch my reflection in the mirror—my skin looks pale and ghostly, and my green eyes have taken on the haunted look of someone who has been given a glimpse behind the veil between this world and the next.

I drop the charm onto the dresser and shake my head in disbelief, taking slow deep breaths to stop the bile from rising. When I start to feel blood pumping back to parts of my body that a few seconds ago felt numb I exhale loudly.

My mind can’t make sense of what just happened. All my magical abilities up until this point have been focused predominately around spells—extrasensory perception; telekinesis; healing and regeneration. Never have I experienced teleportation before.

Mum, what did you give me
?

Magi’s bark startles me back to reality. I walk over to the window and look out to see Magi sitting on her haunches, watching me with her head cocked to one side. With a turn and a wag of her tail she beckons me outside. I take a moment to centre myself, casting a grounding spell that dispels my jittery nerves, ‘Sateya shenay.’ The calming effect flows through me.

I throw my hair into a make-do ponytail and quickly get dressed in my school uniform before grabbing my bag and heading downstairs, but not before I take one last look at the charm with an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu.

I take the stairs two at a time. ‘Bye, Aunt Lily. Have a good day!’ I yell as I fly through the door.

Outside the sun is shining and the air is crisp and fresh against my face. Feeling calmer but still slightly perplexed I make my way towards Uncle Jo’s shed, pushing the manic thoughts running through my head aside until I can make more sense of them.

Magi comes bounding up to me with a wag of her tail and her tongue lolling out of her mouth. I give her a pat and round the corner of the house, passing Old Olsen as I go.

Old Olsen is a very large, very old tree. He appeared shortly after my uncle bought the house a few years ago and has been standing silent and protective alongside the house ever since. To this day we still don’t know what species he is, stranger still is the humming sound that emanates from him whenever I stand close by. I figured that there must be insects living within his massive trunk and put it down to my own wild imagination, but the witch in me knows better than that. The witch in me knows that Old Olsen contains magic.

Up ahead I see Uncle Jo standing in front of what appears to be a vintage bike and my heart picks up pace.

‘Hey, what’s going on here?’ I ask excitedly.

‘Well, I figured that since you are sixteen now, and seeing as you run almost everywhere, that it may be time for a change,’ he says smiling.

My eyes take in the old looking bike worn with age. Its fat brown seat and wide gripped handle bars creating images of happy, old nuns riding through the hills with their habits waving in the breeze. Its light blue paint is chipped in places exuding a rustic feel, but overall the bike looks like it has been looked after by its previous owner. There is a big wicker basket on the front that is nostalgic of the nineteen-forties—my favourite era, and the pannier rack on the back is wide enough to double dink Phoebe if she was willing.

‘Is this a Schwinn?’ I ask him surprised.

‘Yep,’ he says with a smirk of pride.

‘But…how did you know I was looking at these?’ I ask.

The Schwinn bike is the one Audrey Hepburn was riding when she made the movie
Sabrina
. Ever since I saw that movie two years ago I’ve been wanting one, but the cost of an original was way past my allowance amount for the entire year.

‘You can thank Phoebe for that.’ He winks.

I touch the brown handle bars and squeeze, running my hand along its painted body in appreciation of something this old.

‘Thank you,’ I say, feeling slightly embarrassed at the generous gift.

He clears his throat. ‘You’re welcome. Not a lot of these bikes around but your aunt wouldn’t give up until she found it. Apparently she’s a bit of an eBay whizz.’ He looks off to where Aunt Lily is standing near Old Olsen. She waves.

I wave back. ‘Thank you, Aunt Lily!’ I yell. She blows me a kiss and heads inside.

‘So do you want me to drop you off to school or what?’ he asks.

I smile at him. ‘Not today. I’m going to ride Billie here.’

‘Billie?’ He looks at the bike and nods in approval. ‘I like it. Well she’s all ready to go. New tyres, oiled chain, and I installed a new bell for you as I knew you would like its quirky appeal.’ He smiles at me, showing off his laugh lines.

‘I love it!’ I grin, taking my bag off my back and placing it into the basket. Magi is sniffing around, tail wagging at my excitement. ‘Sorry, Mags, you can’t come. I’ll see you later this afternoon,’ I tell her as I scratch her on the head. Her ears fold down in disappointment.

I place myself into the seat and its over-sized springs cushion my weight. Kicking the stand of the bike with my foot I ring the bell once to signify my first venture out.

Uncle Jo laughs. ‘Be careful and I’ll see you later today.’

I smile and push off, heading down the gravel driveway towards the gate. I make a left turn down the laneway, heading towards Phoebe’s house, the wind lightly tickling my face and the vibrant colours of the surrounding hills rushing past me as I pick up speed.

I pull into Phoebe’s driveway a short while later, ringing the bell as I do, and I look up to see her peering out from her upstairs bedroom window. She mouths the words—
holy crap balls
—which is her usual sentiment to anything exciting and then she disappears from view. The next thing I know she is hurtling out her front door with all the grace of a full-speed penguin with curls.

‘Whoa! Is this what I think it is?’ she asks excitedly, her gap-toothed grin beaming at me.

‘Thanks to you,’ I say.

She gives me a big hug and whispers happy birthday in my ear. I gently pull her off me. ‘Thanks, Phoebs. Now get on and we’ll ride to school today.’

She cocks one eyebrow sassily. ‘Are you serious? I could die on that. And where would I sit?’ she asks, a little confused as to how we could accomplish such a task.

‘Come on, you can ride on the pannier rack side saddle. It’ll be old school romantic.’ I swoon at her, fluttering my eyelids.

She pokes her tongue at me and takes a moment to think about the idea. ‘Why the hell not.’ She shrugs, as she positions herself on the back. ‘Actually, this is pretty cool. I mean who else would have an old vintage bike like this?’ she says, a hint of arrogance to her tone. ‘Although, your uncle could have done us
both
a favour and bought you a car instead. But hey…whatever, this old girl will do for now.’

I laugh, trying to get my balance even with her extra weight on the back. She grabs me around the waist and we slowly edge our way down the driveway.

‘Bye, Mum!’ Phoebe calls out as we glide on past. Phoebe’s mum is standing on the front porch watching us with amusement.

Phoebe talks the whole way to school. Without taking a breath she humours me with the events in her life of the last twenty-four hours. From how her little brother Tom tried to wash her cat by flushing him down the toilet, turning it into a rescue mission of which a plunger and tongs were needed to pull him out. To then helping her mum bake choc-coated bananas on a stick for the local community fete, where due to a decorating error “on her mother’s part” they apparently turned out looking like small male appendages. With sore cheeks from laughing we finally reach the school.

I lock the bike up at the racks and we walk through the gates of Kingston High where the bitumen path leads up to the main building and its central tower entrance bay. Phoebe says it reminds her of a castle where knights defended helpless maidens and where the city was overthrown to an evil warlord. For me, I just love how old the school is. It’s a school built on character and history, and within its walls it holds stories of those who walked here before us.

While sitting in art I start to tell Phoebe about my morning so far, making sure to leave out the obvious witchy information of which she knows nothing about. This isn’t because I don’t trust her, because I do, it’s about protecting her.

As we’re chatting away Mr. Tyler enters the classroom and begins his lesson on clay art—a complete waste of time for me as I’m pretty hopeless at art, but Phoebe loves it and she wouldn’t let me lower myself to do music, so art class it was.

Even though I follow Mr. Tyler’s step by step instruction plan in
profile creation
my so called profile model of myself turns out to look more like
Shrek
. Phoebe’s on the other hand looks amazing. She sucks!

Before we know it class is over. In fact the whole day passes in a blur. Lunch is almost uneventful, apart from the fact that Phoebe made a point of telling anyone who was within earshot that I got a Schwinn for my birthday. Apparently, as she was subtly yelling this information across the eating area, Milly Fanning, aka Fanny Face—Phoebe’s name for her arch nemesis since elementary school—gave her a wicked look. Phoebe had her crazy eyes on after that and I couldn’t wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day.