How Torie Got Her Hex Back: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel: Singing Falls Witches Book Three

by M. J. Caan

  “Ancient spirits of those before,

  providers of the power I now implore,

  hear my plea, through the Soul of Wells,

  and grant us audience behind your veil.”

  Immediately, the three witches went limp, each slouching over, their heads resting peacefully to one side, their breathing barely perceptible. Glen and Fionna exchanged worried looks before settling into the chairs opposite the couch.

  For Torie, the feeling she experienced was the same as she had felt years ago when she had agreed to ride the Cyclone rollercoaster at Bush Gardens with her son. The ride promised the fastest acceleration of any ride on the planet; from zero to over sixty-five miles per hour. It had certainly lived up to its billing; rocketing the two of them up an incline at a dizzying speed. That was the ride that cemented Torie’s fear of rollercoasters, and she had sworn she would never step foot on one again.

  What she felt now was that times a thousand. She felt like she had been snatched out of her body and fit into a slingshot that flung her towards a black sky with an explosion of light showering her from behind. Had it been possible, she would have screamed; but as it was, she could barely breathe, let alone form sentences.

  Everything around her was comprised of shades of gray and black. There was no up or down, left or right. She couldn’t feel anything around her, and with no way to orient herself, to make sense of things, her mind was sending signals of fight or flight—and her body was definitely in the flight mode.

  “It’s alright,” said a calming voice. It was Opal, and her tone was a soothing balm to Torie’s racing mind. “We’re on the astral plane right now, the meeting place of the spirits. Focus on my voice and calm yourself. Everything is okay. We’ve been granted an audience with the elders.”

  Torie focused on the sound of Opal’s voice as it echoed in her mind. Slowly, she felt herself begin to calm down, although the disorientation she felt was something she couldn’t explain. It was like having all her senses but no longer having a body to temper and guide them. That was when she realized that was exactly what had happened to them. Their essence had been ripped out of their bodies and deposited here.

  Is this what if felt like to be dead, she found herself wondering.

  That was too macabre a thought to allow free reign in her mind; especially in a place occupied by spirits. Could spirits read minds? If they could, what would they think if they heard what she—

  “Torie! Snap out of it. Focus on the here and now.” This time it was Jasmin who spoke to her mind.

  Torie took the mental equivalent of a deep, cleansing breath and focused on her friends. She felt a weight around her, pulling at her, and instantly felt more at ease when she realized it was the silver thread Opal had wound around her. At least she couldn’t float away into the nothingness. She tried to look around, slowly becoming aware that she could make out vague shapes in the swirling fog. Something, or some things, were flitting in and out of her periphery.

  “We’re here,” said Opal. Torie had not been aware they were floating forward until she experienced the strange sensation of not moving. They were in one place now, and directly in front of her, Torie could make out another, much larger shape.

  No. Not one shape. Three.

  There were three enormous chairs sitting in front of them, and seated on each chair was an equally enormous figure. Each form was misty and dark, seeming to fade from view the harder she tried to focus on them. They were slender with flowing robes of green and black that swirled like fog about them. Featureless faces capped with wild growths of gray hair floating in all directions around them.

  “Elders,” said Opal, her tone that of deference and respect. “We thank you for granting your daughters an audience.”

  “Why have you sought us out, little one?” The voice, while singular, seemed to emanate from all three at once. In Torie’s mind it was less a voice and more a primal wail that she somehow understood.

  “We come seeking a favor from you, most exalted ancestors.”

  A sigh from the ages-old witches seemed to roll through Torie, causing her astral form to ripple.

  “You can dispense with the formality, young one. We are not royalty after all. Simply tell us what it is that has brought you here.”

  “I bring a friend, elders; one who has lost her place among us. She is a witch who no longer possesses the power to hex. I—we—would ask that you see fit to grant her the return of her powers.”

  There was a rumbling that passed through them, one that seemed to carry with it a million words, all spoken at the same time, yet Torie could comprehend none of them.

  “You speak of the witch Torie Bliss, do you not?” said the elders.

  “Yes. She has lost her powers and we would like you to return them.”

  “She did not lose her gifts,” came the reply.

  Just then, lost in the moment, having formless, faceless spirits talk about her as if she were not among them, angered Torie. She forgot herself and found her own voice.

  “I have lost them,” she said, projecting the words as loudly as she could without the aid of a voice. “I assure you, my friends and I have tried everything; to no avail.”

  “Torie, no!” said Opal, yanking at the binding that held them together in hopes it would remind Torie of the rules she had agreed to.

  “Let her speak,” said the elders. “If you are here on her behalf, then she should have a say, don’t you think?”

  Torie felt the touch of Opal’s mind relax a bit as she drifted forward to face the figures sitting in their chairs.

  “We know you,” said the elders.

  If she had possessed skin, Torie would have felt it crawl at that moment.

  “What? How do you know me?”

  “You are all our children,” they said. “Recipients of our hexes at birth. We know you through the untold number of generations through which your magic has flowed. We have felt the touch of your power as it has dispatched those that would do our kind harm. We know you through the touch of your mother as well.”

  Grief, sadness and apprehension washed over Torie at the mention of her mother.

  “My mother? Is…is she here? Is she with you?”

  “Only a part of her. The part that joined with us at the moment of her untimely death. We await the full joining of her spirit when it is time.”

  The full joining? What did that mean?

  “Are you saying she isn’t here? In the astral plane with you?” Torie asked.

  “You know that she is not. She is…elsewhere.”

  Torie felt a hundred questions bubble within her mind, but before she could ask any of them, she felt the elders pushing at her, driving her slowly back.

  “But your mother is not the topic you are here to discuss, is it?” they wailed.

  Torie felt the sting of Jasmin’s mind lash at her. Stay on task.

  Again, she steadied her mind and asked the question that had burned for the past few weeks.

  “Will I ever wield magic again?”

  The elders paused and she could feel a ripple of silent communication move through them as they considered her request.

  “We will not return your magic to you, Torie Bliss.”

  The silence stung her like a blast of ice-cold water to the face after being out in the sun for too long. That was it. The finality of their tone told her there was no need for further discussion. She had been prepared to beg if it came down to it; at least this way she was spared that indignity.

  “Why not?” This time it was Jasmin. She spoke out of turn, allowing her anger to show through her words. Opal moved to silence her, and Torie could feel her friend shrug her off. “No, I want to know why they won’t help her. This woman has used her magic for nothing but the betterment of our kind. She has saved lives, both supernatural and human. She is a good person. And I want to know why you won’t help her.”

  Torie felt the elders rise, the space around them thickening. Somewhere in the distance
, she thought she heard thunder. She felt the cord that bound them tremble in response to the ire of the elders.

  “You dare question us?” they replied. “We do not explain ourselves to anyone or anything, child, but we will tell you this much. The witch known as Torie Bliss does not deserve to have her magic returned to her. She gave it away willingly…we will not return something she obviously did not want.”

  “No, that isn’t true!” Torie yelled into the void. “I did it to save an innocent. And I’d do it again if I had to!”

  “Insolent little pup,” said the elders. “I suggest you take your leave of us before we decide that none of you are worthy of our gifts.”

  “Why you—” started Jasmin, but that was all she got out as Opal tugged fiercely at the silver thread.

  “And that’s enough out of the two of you. Time to go.”

  And just like that, with the same snap that carried them into the astral world, the three of them were hurled back to their bodies.

  Orientation returned slowly to Torie. Her senses were slow to kick back in, and for a moment she thought part of her was still on the astral plane when she opened her eyes and took in the chaos around her.

  Everything around them was in disarray. No, that was putting it mildly. Her home had been destroyed…everything was smashed and broken beyond repair. The walls were charred with smoke, the elaborate wainscoting had been blasted to splinters in places, and entire chunks of flooring had been ripped away. There was a hole in the wall where her picture window had once been.

  A scream from what had once been her kitchen drew her attention. She jumped to her feet, following closely behind Jasmin as they entered the room. There, in the center of the floor, sat Fionna, holding the body of her wife as she rocked her back and forth.

  There was a shuffling of wood, accompanied by a moan that came from Torie’s left. There, sticking out from under a mass of wood and granite that had once been her center island, was the lower body of a large, dark-colored wolf.

  It was Elric, and he wasn’t moving.

  12

  “Oh my God,” exclaimed Jasmin, rushing to Fionna’s side. “What happened?”

  The squirrel shifter was too distraught to speak. The only sound that escaped her lips was a heart-wrenching cry that seemed to come from the depths of her very soul. Her voice was raw and hoarse, and she flinched when Jasmin placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at the witch through bloodshot eyes, one of which was swollen and black. Her lip was cut and there was a bruise on her cheek as well as a cut across her forehead.

  “Fionna! Who did this to you?” Jasmin repeated.

  “It was Max. He and the hunter attacked us while you guys were…whatever you were doing.”

  Jasmin looked around at the devastation. The house was unrecognizable. The once beautiful home now moaned and creaked under pressure. Large parts of the support walls had been knocked out and Jasmin feared the entire home might come crashing down on them at any moment.

  “We fought back as much as possible. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Elric, we would probably be dead. I’ve never seen a shifter fight like that before; he was incredible, but he couldn’t stop them both.”

  “Why would Max attack like that?” asked Jasmin. She motioned for her sister to help Fionna and Glen while she rushed to Torie’s side. “We need to get him out of here. No telling how long this place is going to remain standing.”

  “Max wasn’t himself,” said Fionna. “He was working with the hunter. She must have done something to him.”

  Opal knelt next to Fionna and placed a hand on Glen’s forehead. She closed her eyes and hummed, her deep tone reverberating throughout the broken house.

  “What are you doing?” asked Fionna.

  “Finding her spirit and asking it not to leave her body just yet. She is alive, and I can help her stay that way, but we need to get out of here.”

  Fionna nodded and stood, holding her wife in both arms as she carried her carefully across the rubble and towards the front door, with Opal close behind her.

  “Come on, you two,” Opal said, making her way out of the house. “Move it!”

  Torie looked up at Jasmin, tears in her eyes. “I won’t leave him.”

  “You won’t have to,” Jasmin replied. She extended her arms, holding them over the wood and granite that covered Elric. The debris began to glow blue and then floated upward, enough that Torie was able to drag the wolf free. Once he was out of harm’s way, Jasmin let the mass drop with a thud. Together they dragged Elric across the floor and towards the front door.

  Just as they exited the home, a loud crash erupted, followed by another even louder.

  “I don’t know what that was but looks like we won’t be going back in there,” said Jasmin.

  They made their way to the driveway and the front lawn where Fionna had laid Glen, resting her gently on her back. Torie and Jasmin dragged Elric over and placed him beside her. His wolf form was nearly as long as Glen, and while his breathing indicated he was not as hurt as she was, he still had not regained consciousness enough to shift back to human.

  Opal was focused on Glen, her magic reaching deep into the woman and probing her injuries. Her eyes were closed, and she hummed loudly as her hands moved across the lithe figure before her.

  “Here,” she said, her hands hovering above the left side of Glen’s abdomen. “She’s bleeding here.”

  “Should I call 9-1-1?” asked Fionna.

  “Yes, definitely,” replied Opal. “I am going to try and stop the bleeding, but she will definitely need medical attention.” She dropped her hands and placed two fingers on Glen’s neck. “Her pulse is thready.” She gently placed her thumb and forefinger on the woman’s chin and tilted her head from one side to the other. Like Fionna, her face was bruised and there was a thin line of red seeping from one ear.

  Opal sat cross-legged and clasped her hands together before her. She reached out again, holding her hands over Glen’s broken body, as she began to chant.

  “Most powerful spirit, protector of all,

  it is to your power, I now call.

  Heal this child’s body, cease her pain,

  this I ask, in your divine name.”

  Fionna watched as ghostly green roots made their way up from the ground where Glen lay and covered her body before sinking into the injured woman and becoming part of her.

  “Hey—” started Fionna, reaching for her lover.

  “It’s okay,” said Opal, waving for her not to move. “Those are earth spirits. They preserve life. They will help stabilize her until modern medicine can do more.” She smiled wearily at Fionna and placed a hand on her arm. “It’s alright. She’s going to live. I promise.”

  “Don’t suppose you have some extra earth spirits for Elric?” asked Torie. She had watched what had transpired in awe, but now her attention was back on her lover.

  Opal moved to sit next to Elric, holding her hands above his body as she hummed.

  “He does not need my help. His body is already healing,” said Opal. “Shifters are incredibly resilient. Especially werewolves. I’ve seen them lose a limb and regrow one.”

  She stopped speaking when she saw the look on Torie’s face.

  “Good job, Opal,” said Jasmin, “all these years and you still haven’t learned to read the room.”

  Opal scowled at her sister but decided against the smart-ass reply that was on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she turned her attention back to Elric.

  “His bones aren’t broken, so that’s good.”

  “Why is that good?” questioned Torie. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad, but why is that a good thing?”

  “Because he’s unconscious,” replied Opal. “He can’t shift back to his human form. His bones would heal in his wolf shape and then…well, we’d probably have to break them again when he shifted to human form, so they could heal properly. I’ve seen it done before…it’s not pretty.”

  Torie shuddered inwar
dly. The thought of causing him more pain than he had already gone through was more than she could bear. Her thoughts were broken by the wail of an ambulance’s siren as it made its way up the mountainside.

  Minutes later, the side of the house was lit up by flashing lights as the paramedics arrived.

  “She has a ruptured spleen,” Opal told the young woman who was assisting in getting Glen onto the stretcher. “Liver laceration and ruptured ear drum as well. You need to get her to surgery right away.”

  The paramedic didn’t question her as they loaded her into the back of the ambulance.

  “What happened to her?” asked an older man who had been taking notes on a small electronic tablet.

  “Gas explosion,” said Jasmin, stepping forward. “We were lucky to get out. She was caught in the blast.” She saw the man’s eyes track to the large wolf lying on the ground. “And so was the family dog.”

  “Um, okay. Is everyone else okay…do you need a second unit?”

  “No. We are fine. Please, can you just get our friend to the hospital as soon as possible?” said Torie.

  The driver hesitated only briefly before nodding to the young female to close the doors.

  “Wait, I’m going too,” said Fionna.

  “Are you family?” asked the driver.

  The flash of yellow that crossed through Fionna’s eyes was nearly enough to make him wet himself as he held the doors open long enough for her to leap inside. He nodded to Torie before climbing behind the wheel and peeling out of her gravel driveway.

  “We needed Fionna to tell us more about what happened,” said Torie, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “No, we don’t,” said Jasmin. She was looking at Elric, who, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be sleeping. “Whatever happened is locked in his mind. I can get at that.”

  “Do we need to be worried about cops showing up?” asked Opal. “I mean, I’m surprised they haven’t responded already.”

  “Max has been building the force up out of supernaturals; mainly shifters. They will wait for his orders before they act.”