Witchling (Chronicles of Witchood) (13 page)

I flicked open my eyes and looked down at the seemingly plain book in my hand. I opened it and without thought, I traced the image of the five pointed star on the inside cover. My eyes widened with amazement as letters started to appear and ink seeped back into the pages, no longer hidden from sight. The writing was old and spidery, the ink dark and shining as if the feathered quill that drew ea
ch letter had just left the inkpot. I could almost see the writer’s face, a man, early thirties, seventeenth century gentleman. He was one of the writers and the person that casted the spell to hide its contents, and, through a gut feeling, the one that engineered its journey into my hands. I didn’t know how I knew all this but I did. It came with unlocking the book’s secrets.

“What’s your name?” I found myself whispering to no one in particular. The book didn’t reply
, not that it could in the first place, and the visions faded away as quickly as it had appeared.

I looked through the book and found that not al
l its pages was revealed to me, only the first half and while the rest remained blank, its contents still hidden. I sat down on the bed and began to read.

The book was filled things about ghosts and demons and way to vanquish them. There
were recipes for potions and poisons, protective and destructive symbols. For a small book, I was amazed by its ability to cram in so much. I noticed that in the bottom corner of every page was a small pentagram inside a circle. I remembered reading about them, they’re called pentacles.

Ethan made sure to make a dramatic return to the house
. He called out my name as he walked down the hallway, his voice melodic and clear. I closed the book and came out of the spare room. The elder Winters’ brother stood just outside, as if he knew I was inside all along. He grinned at me.

“Hello Amelia,” he said
with sly gentleness. His eyes glinted and sparkled with light and it was clear to me that he must have won in whatever he and Aiden talked about during their disappearance.

“Hello Ethan,”
I said, my tone hard and unamused.

“What are you reading?” his eyes never left mine as he spoke.

“I don’t know, it looks like some sort of spell book. I found it at the library.”

Ethan lifted his left eyebrow as a
sceptical expression came over his face. “May I see, it’s probably a fake.”

I gave it to him but just as the book touched his hand, he pulled it back, as if it was covered it acid and the covers burnt his fingers. The book dropped to the ground and I bent down and picked it up.

“What did you do to it?” Ethan accused.

“I
didn’t do anything. Maybe you’re just, oh, I don’t know, allergic to the pentagrams inside.”

“Allergic to pentagrams? Don’t be silly. There’s no such thing but you’re pretty close to it. Show me.”

I opened the covers for him and his eyes looked over the inside cover and first page. He frowned then a sly smile.

“Where did you say you found this wonderful piece of
artefact?”

“I stole it from Angels Fall Public Library.”

Ethan clicked his tongue. “Well, lovey, looks like you’re on your way to becoming a proper witch. Come, we can walk and talk. I’m sure Aiden will be thrilled to find about this.”

I didn’t like Ethan’s tone of voice.
There was a lot that he knew and I didn’t. The imbalanced of knowledge made me feel weak.

“Amelia,” said Aiden as I entered room. Luk
e was on the first floor again. Aiden’s eyes flicked to the book in my hand and his face dropped with realisation.

“Oh,” sighed Ethan with
disappointment, “you already know.”

“She was holding it when she left the house.”

It took Luke a few seconds to realise that they were talking about the book in my hand. Ethan decided to answer the question on our lips before it was asked.

“It’
s a grimoire, a book of magic, a textbook of sorts, passed on from one witch to another.”

Luke came to my side and I understood that he wanted to look at it.
I gave it to him and he flicked through the pages.

“The ink’s all botched up,” he said, “
I can’t read anything.”

I frowned and peered over his arm. To me, the lettering was clear and crisp as if it had been newly written.

“You can’t read it,” said Aiden, “it must be protected and only your sister can see what’s written.”

“Yeah, it’s
definitely protected,” said Ethan, “Miss Witchling nearly burnt off my fingers just a moment ago.”

I opened my mouth to protest
but saw no use in an argument. Ethan clapped his hands. “Alright children, I’m off to hunt some Hunters. Aiden will keep you company and have you do something for him.”

Ethan left us. He twirled the car eyes on his finger as he sauntered out. Luke and I looked towards Aiden, who stood alone and looked rather hesitant, but he had lost whatever argument he had with his older brother.

“So how long have you had the grimoire?” Aiden asked.

“Since your first day at school, but it was only a blank book back then. I just figured out how to get the ink to show. There are pentacles on every page.”

“I see. Well, the
pentacle is a protective symbol. I suppose the creator of the book wanted to keep the contents inside hidden from the supernatural.”

“But I’m not supernatural,” Luke pointed out.

“No, you’re not. Some spells also keep normal humans from seeing its contents too. Speaking of pentacles, there was one in your room. Where did you get it from? It must have been painted by a witch, or else it wouldn’t have kept out the Hunters from getting into your room. The ones that attacked were powerful ones, since they managed to break into your house.”

“I got it from a thrift shop,” Luke said.

“Which one? If I may ask.”

“The one outside the mall, next to the game store.”

Aiden nodded as he tucked that little piece of information away in his mind.

“Ethan mentioned
that you wanted me to do something,” I started.

“Yes,” said Aiden.
“But before we do, I need to say this. I didn’t mean for things get like this and I promise that I find your parents.”

I nodded. “I know. What is it you want me to do?”

“It’s too dangerous.” Aiden shook his head as he decided against what he privately agreed with Ethan.

“Tell me what it is first and then I will decide whether
it’s dangerous or not.”

Aiden hesitated but eventually gave in. “
I need you to dream.”

Chapter 13

Aiden gave me a potion to drink. Luke and I watched it as he brewed the concoction from strange looking plants and fruits from his greenhouse. He blended it into a berry smoothie to mask the real taste, though the attempt had very little success. It tasted like cinnamon mixed with ginger and left a bittersweet aftertaste in the back of my throat.

I lay down on the floor in the middle of the living room with Aiden next to me. Aiden reached out and touched my hand. It wouldn’t have been so awkward if Luke wasn’t watching us from the couch.

I drifted off as the potion started to take its effect and a wave of sleep
iness sent me off to the dream space, where I found myself on the familiar forest floor, the dirt ground beneath my body and trees above my head. As I sat up, Aiden hovered next to me like a ghost, his body translucent and barely there.

He observed our surroundings.

“What are we supposed to do again?” I said. I felt a little hazy as I struggled to remember the conversation we had while I was awake.

“We are here to look for clues,” he said, “clues that might lead us to who the person or thing after you is.”

“I thought you already knew that, since you already knew that I’m going to be the sacrifice.”

“Yes, but a witch
ling can be sacrificed for many reasons.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“To break curses, to make curses, create cures, open or close gates into the other worlds. Is the forest always like this?”

“Yup and always a full moon too, a red full moon to be more specific.” I watched Aiden as he walked around nearby. We were completely alo
ne in my dream and Ethan was nowhere to be seen. He always made an appearance of sorts, even if it was in the form of a Hunter, or was it a Double Walker? I couldn’t exactly remember from the previous dream.

“What is it?” Aiden asked when he noticed my silence.

“Ethan’s missing.”

“Ethan? He’s in your dream?”

“Yeah. Sometimes he kills me, sometimes he doesn’t. It’s like that part of the dream isn’t set yet, except for the part where I die.”

“Who’s the other person?”

I stared down the pathway towards my death and tried to remember but the face refused to materialize. I shook my head and closed my eyes. Aiden lifted his face towards the sky and saw that the longer I attempted to remember, the bigger the crack in the sky got. It started out as a thin black line, almost undetectable and far away, but it soon grew and the stars spilled out through the crack.

“Amelia,” Aiden called and tried to touch my arm, but his hand went through my body. “Amelia,” he
called again, his voice almost lost in the small wind that swirled around me.

I snapped opened my eyes.
Darkness had descended on one side of the forest and there was a clear-cut line between light and dark. I stood in between and on both sides while Aiden was nowhere to be seen.

“This is new,” I found myself saying and wondered if Aiden was still with me, and that perhaps I just couldn’
t see him.

I didn’t move im
mediately from where I stood. The earth rumbled from both the light and dark side, and I knew that running would be futile. Without warning, a ring of fire burst up and threatened to engulf me and the forest grounds transformed into the execution clearing, where I was to die. A group of rocks caught my attention. While a part of me thought that I must have gone mad, after so many nights of the same dream, I was used to dying. Besides, Aiden gave me the potion in order to get clues about how and why I die, or, to be correct, how I’m supposed to die.

My executioner trudged out of the shadows, his dagger in hand and ready to slit my throat.
I was surprised to see the blade. I was usually burnt alive and forced to feel the pain. Or did I die before I was burnt? My memory of the dream was never quite the same, as if the different decisions I made led to a different method of death. Was this how premonitions worked? Before I had time to think, my executioner stepped into the fire and shoved the dagger into my chest.

The pain felt so different from what I expected. The fire no longer burnt my skin but blazed up in my heart, where the tip of the blade
pierced. Hot sticky liquid oozed out and I soon lost my consciousness.

~

I gasped as I woke from the nightmare. Aiden held me against his chest as I struggled to breathe. Luke was on his knees beside me, a cloth held up against my heart. Sweat drenched my skin as I felt a pain on the spot where I was stabbed.

“What…” I tried to speak but my voice came out weak.

“Keep pressure on her,” Aiden instructed. “I’ll be back.”

Aiden lowered me down on the floor and Luke continued to press his hand on my chest. My vision blurred as I noticed how dry my throat suddenly became.

“Amy, stay with me,” Luke begged.

“What…” I wanted to know what was going on, but my voice could not muster enough power to speak the words.
My heart struggled to keep its beat and for a moment, I thought I saw blood on Luke’s hand.

Aiden returned with
colored bottles in his hands. He uncorked one and emptied its contents in my mouth. I gaged and coughed and spluttered as the liquid burned my tongue. Luke’s face turned pale.

“Lift your hands,” said Aiden and that was when I was certain that the red substance on my brother was indeed
exactly what I thought. I felt the cool air in the house touch my open wound and knew that the injury was deadly.

This
isn’t how I was supposed to die. What was it that Aiden said to before I took the sleeping potion? It must have been important but I had forgotten it, something about my safety, something about things going wrong, something that I had been so sure about but not so sure now. The thoughts plagued my brain as Aiden poured another bottle onto the open wound.

I smelled burnt skin and heard the fizzing of seared meat. Luke covered his face, his eyes filled with terror that I have never seen before.
My eyes watered as I screamed with whatever sound I managed to muster. My back arched and Aiden placed a firm hand on me to keep me still.

“Luke, get my phone and call Ethan,” said Aiden. I could hear the panic in the Dextris’ voice.
It was the last thing I heard. I closed my eyes and then I was gone.

~

I stood in darkness, alone and cold, and wondered where this was going. I wasn’t sure if I was truly dead or in another dream. I could usually tell, not that I’ve been dead before.

The darkness wrapped itself around my body like cling film and I noticed how unusually calm I felt. I ought to be scared, terrified of the things that I couldn’t see, but after what felt like a long observation, I found that I felt nothing at all.

With nothing else to do, I started to walk, perhaps I would bump into something, perhaps a tree, the edge of a desk or even a wall, but there was nothing, only a vast emptiness that seemed to extend on and on.

After some time, I decided to stop. I touched my face as something cold dripped down my right cheek. I didn’t know what it was, except that it was liquid, perhaps water. I touched it and placed a finger in my mouth. It tasted salty, like tears and for a brief moment, I thought I saw Luke in the distance, like a shadow
illuminated by a dim lamp light. I stared in his direction but he faded as quickly as he had appeared.

“Hmmm,” I found myself saying.
“Am I dead or am I alive?”

No one answered
me and I felt that it was the only thing to be expected. I was alone and the loneliness of the realisation swept in as I felt someone carry me, and yet, my feet remained flat against the floor.

I thought about everything that occurred so far, the things that I remembered. I was aware of the large gaps in my memories and I wondered what those gaps held.
I remembered dying, but I always died in my dreams.

Amelia Ryans

Ethan’s voice cut through the darkness like an echo that waved back and forth like a pendulum.

“Ethan? Aiden? Can you hear me?”

No one replied. My palms started to glow and when I turned them over, I saw that the light on my skin was in the shape of a pentagram inside a circle. I was bemused by the sight, like a moth enthralled by a flame. The thought sent laughter out from my lips. It was as if I was attempting to be poetic. I didn’t feel like myself. My body started to fade away as I slipped into a different sort of darkness. Spirits from the other side touched my skin with their cold fingers. They caressed me until I felt numb. I knew what they wanted. I could feel their coxing as they whispered inaudible words in foreign languages to me.

Cool lips touched my ear.

This is not your time,
it whispered.

“
I know.”

~

I woke in a tub of shallow water. Smooth stone tiles lined the walls. Ethan sat in a chair reading Moby Dick. He was almost at the end and did not notice that I was awake until I attempted to sit up. I slipped and almost banged my head against the stone basin but Ethan caught me, one arm wrapped around my waist and the other just under the nape of my neck.

“Welcome back,” he said and for a brief moment allowed relief to appear on his face.
“You gave your brother a heart attack and drenched mine in guilt. Congratulations Amelia, you’re almost a proper witch now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Did someone stab you in your dream?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Do you remember the face?”

“No. What happened?”

“Well, you were warned of the dangers, but from the expression on your face, you haven’t clue what happened, do you?” Ethan lowered me back into the water. “Try not to move or drown, or else my keeping watch would have been useless.”

“What are you talking about?” my
voice came out weak and hoarse. “And why am I in a tub?”

I felt a throbbing pain in my chest. I lifted my hand but found that I had no
strength. Tiredness forced me to close my eyes.

“You almost died,” Ethan informed me, his tone blunt and almost regretful. I sensed that it was his idea to have Aiden go into my dream and look for clues.
“And the water is laced with a healing potion.”

“Did he find anything?”

“Nothing much, except for the time and date of your death.”

“And when is it?”

“In two weeks.”

“That’s encouraging.”

Ethan leaned back in his chair and looked down at me. I could feel his eyes on my face.

“You seem unusually calm about it.”

“I’ve died so many times in my nightmares, the flames doesn’t scare me.”

“But it should,” said Ethan. “Why aren’t you afraid?”

“Because you’re going to help me,” I mumbled out.

“How?” Ethan got out of his chair and knelt down
the tub. Ethan reached down and tilted my face away from the water. Without his hand, I would have drowned. “Amelia, wake up, don’t fall asleep yet, talk to me, tell me how?”

He called my name until I woke up.

“How?” he repeated.

But I could not answer him. What the spirits told me slipped away as quickly as the first time I had the nightmare.
All I remembered were those lips that touched my ear and whispered words that encouraged me to live.

“Is she awake?” said Luke. His voice reached me indistinctively.

“Yes,” Ethan answered. 

“What does she need?”

“Mandrake roots and while you’re at it, fetch Aiden.”