“Stop,” she muffled. “I can’t breathe, and everything hurts.” As soon as he released her, she whacked him weakly in the chest. “You bloody idiot. It burns or some such,” she said, mocking his voice. “I’ll say so. I actually prayed for death it hurt so badly.”
Feeling like he’d never live it down, he started blubbering again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Well, it’s gone now, thank goodness, but I won’t soon forget it. How bad was yours?”
He wasn’t quick enough to lie. “I actually didn’t feel anything, it just got dark for a second or two.”
She whacked him again and sat up, peeling off her coat. “It’s hot,” she complained.
“It is hot!” he exclaimed, not having noticed due to his terror. “And I thought it didn’t work. But we must have at least come forward to summer.”
Now she started to cry. Startled and frightened she might still be ill, he asked her what was wrong.
“If it worked, that means we have to do it again,” she sniffled. “To get back. I can’t go through that again.”
“Let’s not think about it yet,” he suggested lamely, ducking in case she might try to hit him again. He patted his pockets and looked around. “Plus, I think I dropped the spell.”
Her eyes widened and she crawled in a circle, searching the undergrowth for the papers he copied. “Tell me you’re joking.”
He shrugged. “I’m fairly sure I can remember it all. When you feel well enough, we’ll explore a bit, try to figure out how far—”
A distant low roaring filled the air, some far off buzzing like thousands of bees. They grabbed each other’s hands and crept closer together, waiting to see what was about to eat them. The sound got closer but still seemed very far away, and he relaxed enough to look around. It was coming from the sky. Perhaps they’d be safe way down here on the ground, under the cover of the forest canopy. Through the tops of the trees he could see a swath of blue sky and puffs of clouds. It really was a nice summer day. Then, finally, he saw it.
“The metal bird,” he breathed in awe. “Your mum told me— it’s a flying machine, Ariana. There are people in that thing!”
Her eyes were round as they watched the flying machine until it was past their line of sight. “There can’t be people in it. How far ahead did we go?” she asked.
“Pretty far, I reckon. Let’s go,” he said, eager to see more. He jumped to his feet and reached down to help her up. “Are you well enough to go?” Seeing her wincing when she rose caused a fresh bout of guilt and he paced in a circle.
“I suppose it’ll get better,” she grumbled. “Why didn’t it hurt you the same as me? What is it about you, Owen Povest?”
He could tell she was truly disgruntled and worse, apprehensive. Maybe scared. No, she would never be scared of him.
“Dumb luck, I suppose,” he said.
“Luck, my foot. You’re so good at these spells it’s actually a bit ridiculous, and one that was clearly marked as causing burning, agonizing pain—”
“It wasn’t, I swear. I’d never try something that I knew was dangerous.”
“Wouldn’t you? I think being so good at all this has gone to your head. Anyway, my point was, why didn’t you feel anything?”
“You sound like you’re disappointed I wasn’t hurt,” he said, sliding past pricked feelings toward outright anger. “I don’t know. It’s as plain as that. Just like I don’t know why I’m good at this stuff.” He kicked a rock and walked faster, forgetting she might still be too weak to keep up. “And why do you have such a problem with it, anyway? You’re good at them, too. Afraid someone might be as clever as you for once? Or maybe more clever?”
He felt something hit him in the middle of the back and turned around to find her quite a bit behind. Her aim was fine, as she’d pelted him with a rock, and was leaning down to pick up another. Her face was red with rage, and he could tell he hit a nerve with his last accusation. He held up his hands in surrender, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate to send the next rock sailing straight at his head.
“I won’t say I’m sorry,” she called. For being jealous or for hitting him with a rock, he wasn’t sure.
“Nor will I,” he called back.
Not that he had anything to be sorry for. Well, he felt a little bit bad. With a loud huff, she dropped the rock and hustled to catch up with him.
“We shouldn’t fight,” she said, as if it had been all his fault. “Who knows what we’ll find in this place.”
“Time,” he corrected.
Her face drained of all its color. “Time,” she whispered. “Owen, we need to go back. Do you actually realize what we’ve done? It’s okay if you haven’t because I only just now did. We’re kids.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him back the way they came. “Little children. In a time where there are metal birds that carry people. What do we do here? What if someone catches us? We don’t know who this land belongs to now.”
She was right, but he wanted to see the house. More fantastical things to prove he did that wondrous spell and really moved them forward in time. He pulled out of her grip.
“Let’s at least look at the house,” he said. “We’ve come so far. Nothing will happen.”
Ariana looked like she might faint. Her eyelids actually fluttered and she shook her head wildly like his horse when he dropped a lantern and caused a small fire in the barn. He thought she’d gone pale a moment before but now she was beyond white.
“We’re in the future. What if it’s the future where something bad is supposed to happen to me? What if this is what mum was so afraid of?”
How could he have been so stupid? Really, this was bad even for him. He’d been blubbering only a moment ago, afraid he lost her, and now he was going to put her at more risk.
“I forgot about that,” he said with a gulp. The fear that was written all over her face began to seep into him. “Okay, let’s get back.” He frowned as she recoiled. The pain. She was barely over it and now he was going to inflict it again. “We have to do it. And fast.”
He had a sudden feeling he could save her from the pain and grabbed her hands, squeezing hard and trying to either force something out or pull something in. He wasn’t sure, but he knew he needed to try. The something was working away in his mind, just beyond his reach. He only had to let it happen.
As he thought they might, words rose unbidden from his lips. While he didn’t understand them, he knew what they were for. He put all his heart into beseeching that it would work, then yanked Ariana to sit down.
Before she could yelp her disagreement, he chanted the words to the traveling spell. He concentrated on home, the very moment they left. If it didn’t work she might die. Or kill him. Either way he didn’t like his chances and prayed for home.
***
Ariana shook with fear as Owen chanted the words to the spell. She knew she should be concentrating on the exact moment they left, but anticipating the terrible pain made her mind go blank.
She decided she’d rather take her chances here than go through that again. She tried to break free from Owen’s grasp when once again everything went black and quiet. She opened her mouth to scream, but a blast of cold air hit her. She opened her eyes to find she was alive and pain-free. Her hearing returned with the bloodcurdling sound of Owen hollering.
Twisting around she saw him lying several feet away, his face a rictus of agony as the awful guttural sounds kept coming out of him. She didn’t have a second to be grateful she hadn’t felt anything this time and hurried over to his side. Planting her hands on his shoulders, she found he was completely stiff, his eyes screwed shut and his jaw clamped so tightly she thought he might break his teeth.
“Owen,” she cried, shaking him.
He stopped his horrible noises and went limp. She slammed her ear to his chest, heard nothing, then slapped him across the face. Feeling guilty for hitting him when he must have gone through the pain she went through the first time, she cradled his cheek and begg
ed his forgiveness.
“I didn’t mean any of it,” she said, thinking of every mean thing she ever said to him. “Come on you dummy. I didn’t die, so you can’t either.”
She never felt so frightened in her life, and when another cold winter wind blasted past her she didn’t even feel it, she was already so chilled with fear. Rubbing her hands together, she placed them on either side of his face and concentrated with all her might. There had been healing spells in the book but they had dismissed them as dull. Now she summoned every last ounce of her will into making him wake up. She knew what was in the book was also in her blood. Her aunt and her grandmother had contributed spells. There was something within her and she was determined to use it to save her best friend.
Owen shivered and curled into a ball. “I might be sick,” he groaned. He reached around and shoved her weakly away, then threw up. “Sorry. I feel a lot better now.” He crawled away from the mess and slumped against a tree trunk. “It’s freezing. I guess we made it to winter. Hopefully the right one.”
“We left our coats in the other time,” she said, huddling close to him to try and block the wind. “And we did make it back because there’s the paper you dropped.”
“Did you feel anything that time?” he asked. She shook her head and he grinned. “Then it worked.”
“I’m sorry it hurt you this time, but I have to admit, I’m awfully glad I didn’t have to go through it again. Once was enough.”
“You’ve got that right,” he agreed. “I thought I was dead. Wished it, actually. But then this lovely cooling feeling spread over my face and I woke up.”
Ariana nodded gratefully, wondering if she had anything to do with that. Regardless, she vowed to herself to study the healing spells from then on.
“Why do you suppose it hurt you that time?” she asked. “Unless it’s just temperamental.” She would rather take her chances with a hot poker to the eye than ever risk that spell again. She recalled the words he spoke before he chanted, words that weren’t part of the spell. “Did you do something different?”
He wrinkled his nose and tried to look modest, which for Owen was nearly impossible. When he did something he was proud of, everyone ended up knowing about it.
“Just a little something I wanted to try. I had a feeling about it.” She waited silently until he couldn’t stand it and burst out, “I transferred whatever happened to you to me. And you were right, it was bloody terrible.”
She looked at him with a mix of awe, gratefulness, and wanting to smack him all at the same time. “Why would you do that? How did you do it? Are you mad?”
“You’re welcome,” he groused. “I was afraid it really might kill you if it happened to you twice, and thought I’d have a better chance. I also thought they might spare me altogether, but I was very wrong about that.”
She stood up, feeling the cold all of a sudden and wanting to get back to the house. “What do you mean ‘they’?” she asked, not really wanting the answer.
She wanted normal hot tea and soup and biscuits. She was tired to the bone of magic. And yet, she asked, ready to ask again if he didn’t answer.
He looked confused. “They?” he repeated.
“You said you thought they’d spare you. Who are they?”
He shook his head and shrugged, and she could tell by his eyes that he honestly didn’t know what she was talking about. But she heard him say it, she knew she did.
She turned and marched toward the house. She was going to be in trouble for losing her coat. As much as she knew she should avoid her mum until she could think of a proper lie explaining the loss, she only wanted to be in her embrace like a baby.
Owen caught up with her. “You’re not angry with me for saving you, are you?”
“No,” she said honestly, looking at him hard, but only seeing her old friend. There was no one else lurking behind his clear blue eyes— with a gasp she wondered why she thought there might be. “It worries me that we don’t know much about this. We might have been killed today, or trapped in that other time. Our parents would never know what happened to us.”
What really worried her was that Owen was doing things he didn’t seem to know he was doing. Yes, it had been for her benefit this time. But what if one day he did something— no, she was tired and being silly. With a nervous laugh, she thumped him playfully in the arm, the closest she could get to saying thanks.
He thumped her back, and then turned serious. “We’ll try to find out more. There’s so much in that book, I’m certain we can learn some things before we do any more spells. I still can’t properly feel my feet,” he complained.
“Might as well prepare for a bit more suffering,” she said, skipping ahead. “They’re not going to be happy about us losing our coats.”
Chapter 9
April 1826
Dear Ariana,
I’m sorry I wasn’t able to visit but Father can’t get away due to planting and Mum hates to leave him for long. She promises perhaps next month or beginning of summer at latest. To make up for it I’ve copied out loads of spells for you to study. You needn’t hide while reading this as I put a hex on it making it seem like a description of all the fishing lures I’ve made recently.
Ariana breathed a sigh of relief and flung open the wardrobe door, letting herself spill out of it. She seated herself more comfortably at her writing desk and hurried to read on, disappointed she didn’t get to see Owen after such a long time, but eager to learn new spells.
Also, since everyone knows I would never write such a fat letter, I’ve hexed most of the pages to look like insipid, hideous artwork.
Why would he make himself seem like a bad artist? she wondered. His sketches were quite good, in fact.
I know how much your mum values us children’s hard work and knew if she found them at all appealing she might display them somewhere and then you wouldn’t get to read the spells, or worse, the hex might wear off, showing what they truly are.
She nodded, impressed. He was more clever than she gave him credit for. Her mother really would have hung up even moderately good artwork. She was always praising them for their efforts. Ariana shuddered to think what might happen if her mum knew what they really were.
I tried asking at school if there was a history of witches in our village, but the master is from the Highlands and didn’t know. There’s a boy in our class who said his grandmother sometimes mutters about witches. I tried to take her some of Mum’s pear jelly but she’s always ill so I haven’t been able to see her yet. I’ll keep trying, though. But just because I haven’t found out anything about your family doesn’t mean I haven’t found out something about mine …
Ariana turned over the page to find it blank, and squeaked with frustration. The wretched, dramatic boy. She wanted to wring his neck. The post took so long, how could he expect her to wait for the next letter to — As she angrily shook the pages, words began to appear on them.
Did I trick you? How angry were you just now? It had to be pretty angry or you wouldn’t be able to read this at all!
Ariana had to admit she was impressed. She also fairly twitched with envy that he got the book full time and she had to wait for him to send her new spells.
It seems I have a cousin, once removed. That means he’s my father’s cousin. I can tell you’re scowling because you already know that.
She laughed out loud because she hadn’t exactly scowled, but she’d rolled her eyes. She did miss him so, but his letters always entertained her.
His name is Sorin and he’s very kind, and an excellent shot. I like him very much but at once I could tell my parents were wary about his visit. It was clearly unplanned. My father went quite pale when he arrived, but then they seemed to get on fine and they spoke about this person and that person until I couldn’t keep up anymore. I have loads of family in Moldavia, did you know?
Ariana shook her head as if he could see her. She only knew Uncle Kostya was from that far away land. She often tried to imitate
his accent, but other than that he never spoke of his life before he came to Scotland.
Everything was jolly until two nights ago. It was after I was sent up to bed, and the only reason I came back down was because my father and Cousin Sorin had quite a bit of brandy, which of course is odd for my father. I don’t know about Cousin Sorin. They were speaking about the past and Father was getting upset. That’s when they sent me away. Since I’ve been desperate for answers, especially why my father’s name is in the book, I thought it was my duty to listen in.
“Yes, yes, you did well,” she mumbled, blinking her eyes a few times against Owen’s atrocious handwriting. “Now get on with it.”
Cousin Sorin told father I had a right to know, that he could see how powerful I was, and it was wrong to keep me in the dark. He offered to take me to Moldavia with him and teach me what my father refused to. Then Mother started to cry and father told him he was forbidden to ever speak of it with me, and if he did, he would be sorry! There was a long silence, except for my mum crying, and Sorin agreed he wouldn’t speak to me now, but that he still believed I should know.
What else can you make of this except that they were speaking of magic? It might have been anything else if he hadn’t mentioned he thought I was powerful. What else am I good at except magic? I’m trying not to let it go to my head, but I do wish you were here to bring me down a peg. It’s very hard not to think about. At any rate, I caught Cousin Sorin alone the next day and asked him what I had a right to know. He tried to scold me for eavesdropping but I stood firm. However, it didn’t work and he told me I would find out one day, but not from him as he’d promised my father.
I know you won’t but I think you should ask your father about your late Aunt Camilla. She’s in the spell book too. It’s so unfair that they’re keeping this from us. Like Cousin Sorin said, we have a right to know.
Tell your brothers hello from me, and hug your mum, etc. I’ve mastered all the spells I’ve included so do hurry and catch up. Yours, Owen.
Belmary House 5 Page 6
