The Secret of the Sacred Four

by E J Elwin

  The ground felt unsteady, like liquid, as the room spun faster and faster around me. Just when I felt like I could throw up from dizziness, I was tossed up into the air, through the four ceilings, into the night sky and beyond, spinning and spinning.

  I opened my eyes and saw that I lay in the same place I had landed the first time, on the floor behind the bar inside McFadden’s Irish Pub. I eagerly scrambled to my feet and looked around. This time, there was no searching for him. There Connor sat in one of the chairs in the empty pub, looking as beautiful as he ever had and wearing a wide smile on his face.

  I ran around from behind the bar and threw myself into his arms, and he actually lifted me off my feet. The feel of his lips could have sent me shooting through the ceiling once more. It was like kissing a block of ice but I didn’t wince or pull back. I was overjoyed to be with him again. It felt like not even a minute had passed since the last time.

  “The legendary Burned Witch!” he whispered dramatically.

  Whatever wonders I had seen that day, the fire bursting from my hand, the city of Tokyo coming to life inside the Illusion Room, couldn’t compare to being able to hold him again.

  “So tell me everything!” he said. “Let’s go upstairs, there’s a great view—” He took my hand and started to pull me toward the corner where the staircase was, but I hesitated.

  “Do you… do you mind if we don’t go up there?” I didn’t feel like being back in the room where I had been so full of fear and despair, the place where Connor had died, where I, myself, had gone up in ash… He took one look at my expression and seemed to completely understand.

  “Of course not,” he said. “How about outside on the rocks?”

  He pointed at the pub door and I smiled, letting him lead me over to it. He pushed the door open, revealing the spectacular sea that surrounded the Halfway Place’s version of the Portland pub, the waves rising and falling and crashing against the rocks around the building. The waves were foamy and salty-sweet smelling, as if there were sugar in them along with salt. The night sky was resplendent, with twinkling stars that were brighter than the ones we could see from Earth, and the gigantic moon that was perpetually full and glowed a stunning silvery white.

  We sat next to each other on the rocks, and he held my warm hand in his cold one as I began to tell the story of what happened to me since I last saw him. I told him about using the crystal ball to find Sylvie and Lizzie in the Purple Haze; how the lights had flickered and the beer taps had turned on by themselves; how the man named Donny had harassed Jessica and she had made him nearly choke to death on bar nuts. Connor howled with laughter at this but urged me to go on as we had such little time.

  I described meeting Hortensia at her parents’ restaurant; how we had fought the two would-be rapists as a team; how the fireflies and then the meteor shower had come as our powers revealed themselves. I told him about seeing the traitor witch in her black swan form, about reading the full prophecy, and then learning of the existence of demons.

  “Demons?” he asked, in the same startled tone that I had. “Holy crap.”

  I told him of the plan the Brotherhood and the traitor witch were hatching, that they had already harvested the hearts of twelve witches, and that we were about to put our own plan into motion to take them out by luring them to us in the woods during the Bonding Ceremony.

  “See?” he said. “There’s your mission. You’re all totally going to kick their asses.”

  His comment reminded me of Sylvie, and I told him all about what the girls were like, and about our tour of the third floor. He looked blown away by the wonders of Jessica and Jasper’s house, especially the Combat Cave and the Illusion Room, and expressed envy that he couldn’t see it himself.

  “I mean, this is great and all,” he said, gesturing at the ocean and the starry sky, “but that sounds really awesome. And you and your sister witches are there. I wish I could meet them…”

  The sadness in his voice pierced my heart. I wanted him to see the house too. I wanted him to meet the girls and for us all to have adventures in the Illusion Room together.

  “They sound so cool,” he said, more cheerfully. “And it’s amazing that you all fought together so well. That came right after you told me that you felt like you couldn’t do any of it… Then you go out there and shoot fire from your hands! I’m so proud of you, my love.”

  I thought of Harriet and our talk about the Cloaking Crystals. She had also said she was proud of me. How strange it was for them both to feel that way when I felt like I had so far gone through all of this like a graceless deer bumbling through a china shop.

  I knew that if I brought up the Cloaking Crystals to Connor, he would say the same things Harriet had said, that it wasn’t my fault and I shouldn’t feel guilt over a mistake I couldn’t have known to prevent. But I couldn’t help feeling a stab of sorrow as I imagined what things could have been like if I had been wearing a Cloaking Crystal during the spell and the Brotherhood had never traced us.

  It was a cruel irony that my uniquely magical blood, the gifts the world of witches regarded so dearly, could have been the reason my life was ripped apart. Although, it had already been torn to shreds after Connor’s first death. Had it really been, as Harriet had said, fate for him to die in order for me to discover my destiny? The paths of the four will cross… each coping with loss, Ursula’s prophecy had said. Even in a life so enchanted by supernatural marvels, such tragedy could not be avoided. Just ask Jessica and Jasper, said a glum voice in my head.

  I leaned my head against Connor’s chest, wishing for the sound of his heartbeat, for the fire that lived inside me to leap onto him and jumpstart his heart. He stroked my hair with his icy cold hand and we looked out at the moonlit sea. I sensed that the better part of our hour had passed, and I felt the same heartache, the same longing I had before to stay here with him forever… or at least until it would be time to move on to whatever came next.

  “Do you sleep anymore?” I asked suddenly, remembering that I had been meaning to ask.

  “I don’t have to,” he said. “But I can if I want. I have been for short periods, just to feel something familiar… Other than the beer drinking, of course.”

  He grinned at me, and I experienced one of those seconds in which I completely forgot the reality of the situation. For a moment, it was one of those old Friday nights where we would have time alone with each other while our parents thought we were at the movies.

  “So tell me more about this witch gift of rhyming,” he said. “Are you going to start speaking in rhyming couplets?”

  “In a way, I guess,” I said, amused. “It’s how spells are cast. It’s kind of a blast.”

  Connor laughed. “When we first met,” he said, “I used to wonder if maybe I should write or read you some poetry. You know, to be romantic. But it felt kind of pretentious.”

  I thought of the way he had surprised me with ice cream that day in Ms. Rue’s shop.

  “I always thought you were very romantic,” I said.

  “And I always thought you were poetry,” he said. “All by yourself. A living, breathing poem. The best one I’d ever heard in my life. How accurate that turned out to be, huh? Poetry and rhymes are actually built into your blood, and they create actual magic. How rare to find that in a guy.”

  I laughed way too hard and held him close. It was then that the lantern-sized ball of violet light appeared over the swaying sea about twenty feet away. I turned to Connor, suddenly afraid.

  “Can I see you here again?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said casually. “I’m not leaving this place until I hear the story of you and your sister witches wiping the floor with the Brotherhood!”

  I smiled, warm with gratitude that I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to him just yet.

  “Tomorrow night?” I asked, as the ball of light advanced on me.

  “I’ll be here!” he said. “Good luck, my love. Give them a good kick for me!”

  �
��I’ll do more than that!” I assured him, as the light surrounded me.

  His ocean blue eyes shined in the violet light and I willed the image to be burned in my mind as I shot up into the sky, past the McFadden’s replica building, and into the vastness of space, spinning and spinning back to Earth.

  My eyes flew open, and I took a deep, gasping breath as if I had just climbed out of that sea in the Halfway Place.

  “Welcome back,” said Jessica. “That was fifty-four minutes exactly, again.”

  I saw Harriet’s relieved face, and the faces of Jasper, Sylvie, Lizzie, and Hortensia as they looked down at me with curiosity. Someone had brought over the remaining California chardonnay bottles from the dinner table, and Sylvie and Jasper were sipping some.

  “How was it?” asked Hortensia, looking me up and down as if to check for any changes.

  “Amazing,” I said, before turning to hug Jessica in thanks.

  “Was it the pub in Portland?” asked Sylvie.

  “It was,” I said. “Except surrounded by ocean.”

  Lizzie’s eyes went wide. Jessica glanced at the grandfather clock against the wall. It was just past nine. “Well, witches,” she said, “the midnight hour approaches. Let’s go over the plan, shall we?”

  **

  After a quick and intense run-through of our battle plan, we all rose from our seats and headed for the winding staircase. “I just want to say,” said Lizzie, and we all stopped to glance at her, “that if I die tonight, it has been a real treat getting to know you all.”

  Everyone chuckled but it seemed that Lizzie was serious. I understood how she felt.

  “Oh, sweetie,” said Jessica, patting her on the shoulder, “none of us here is dying tonight. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, are going to rue the day they ever laid hands on a witch.”

  We climbed to the third floor and entered the Broom Room, before crossing it to the Combat Cave. Sylvie rushed excitedly to her gleaming broadsword, while Hortensia twirled her quarterstaff off its display, and Lizzie gently and adoringly picked up her blue crystal encrusted crossbow. I picked up the twin crescent-shaped axes with the red crystals shining on their handles, and looked around at my sister witches. We looked like kids in a candy store.

  Harriet snatched up a series of daggers while Jasper took one of the long katanas. They went off to their bedrooms to prepare, while Jessica led me and the girls to the Wardrobe Room. She outfitted each of us with one of the pointy black witch’s hats that Hortensia had squealed over that morning, then pulled four velvety black cloaks from one of the metal racks. I examined the smooth black cloth as I draped the garment over my shoulders. It came down nearly to my ankles. I thought of the Brotherhood, dressed in black from shoes to masks, and suddenly had the urge to wear a different color for the Bonding Ceremony. Black, of course, made sense if one wanted to be discreet, but weren’t we doing the opposite of that in luring them to us?

  Before I could vocalize these thoughts, Lizzie helpfully spoke up. “Why black? Why do we need to wear black for the Ceremony? Doesn’t the Brotherhood like black clothes?”

  “Tradition aside,” said Jessica, “black doesn’t just represent darkness, like in the Brotherhood’s case. It also represents mystery, power, and yes, death. But isn’t death one of the great mysteries? Even to witches, who understand it a lot more than non-witches, death is still very mysterious. Plus, black is just classic and unbeatably elegant.”

  “Hear, hear!” said Hortensia gleefully, batting her long cloak around herself like a cape.

  Jessica threw on a black leather jacket like the one she had worn to the Purple Haze and gathered up the large wicker picnic basket in which she had stored the supplies for the Ceremony along with her favorite enchanted knives. On our way out of the Wardrobe Room, I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the full-length mirrors and couldn’t help but stop for a look. Sylvie sidled up behind me and grinned at both of our reflections in the mirror.

  “Sister witch chic,” she said, adjusting my hat.

  We trooped down the stairs with our weapons, Jessica leading us with her wicker basket, and I thought of children going trick-or-treating on Halloween. I had no other context in my past for such a bizarre-looking situation.

  We reached the ground floor and found Harriet and Jasper waiting for us by the fireplace. Jasper, who was wearing a puffy navy-blue parka, gasped at our appearance. The girls and I stood side by side at the foot of the stairs, looking as witchy as could be in our identical black conical hats and flowing black cloaks. Jasper brought a hairy clenched fist up to his nose and loudly sniffled, like a parent watching their child preparing for their first day of school. I almost expected him to whip out a camera and ask us to pose for pictures.

  As we moved toward the front door, I heard Jessica hastily whisper “later!” then looked around to see Jasper stashing a square-shaped shiny black object out of sight. The girls and I all grinned at each other as we stepped out into the night.

  CHAPTER 18

  The Bonding Ceremony

  The place in nature that had been agreed upon as setting for the Bonding Ceremony was Tillamook Head Trail, a large woodsy area at the south end of Seaside that was a popular hiking spot in the daytime. It was the place where Sylvie would have died the previous weekend after she fell from the very top of the trail, had it not been for her Hanged Witch gifts saving her life.

  It was a short drive away, and we all piled into the black Range Rover, with Jessica driving and Jasper in the passenger’s seat. I watched the thicket of trees in front of the house fade away in the darkness as we glided down the sloping lawn toward the vine and rose carvings in the wrought iron gate. The gate creaked open with a wave of Jessica’s hand and then swung shut behind us with an echoing clang. For a few moments, nobody spoke and only the low hum of the Range Rover could be heard, before Jasper reached out and turned on the radio.

  A song that I recognized issued from the car’s speakers. It was a soft-rock love song from the eighties called “Into the Night” by Benny Mardones. I could remember my mom playing it when I was younger during our drives to the Mom & Pop in Wineville.

  I watched Jasper silently bop his head in time to the tune, his parka swaying with him. Next to me, Sylvie began to copy him as she looked out the window, her pointy black hat gently grazing the roof of the car. I turned around and saw Harriet, Hortensia, and Lizzie all doing the same thing in the back row, almost absentmindedly, gazing off into space. Harriet caught my eye and grinned, and when I turned to face the front again, I couldn’t help but join the silent dance party. It was hard to believe, really, that we were about to be involved in a fight to the death.

  **

  We arrived at Tillamook Head Trail within twenty minutes. Jessica found a dark copse of low-hanging trees at the edge of the woods in which to park the Range Rover, and we all clambered out. Sylvie stretched and bounced up and down as if she were in a boxing ring preparing for a fight, and Jessica opened the trunk of the car so we could all gather our weapons. It felt like we were preparing to set up camp on a weekend away in the forest. I looked up at the night sky and saw the thinnest sliver of a pale gray crescent moon.

  “Ten thirty,” said Jessica, checking her watch. “We’ve got some time before midnight to find our spot in the trees and settle in.”

  She gathered up the wicker basket with the Ceremony supplies, and we all gripped our weapons as we headed into the wilderness. Jasper carried the large black cauldron he had chosen from the Concoction Cave for use in the Ceremony, his katana jostling around inside it. There was not a single soul anywhere around us, which I was grateful for. It was a relief to know that this fight with the Brotherhood wouldn’t involve innocent bystanders like the one in Portland.

  Branches creaked and twigs snapped underfoot as we plodded deeper into the woods, the girls and I holding our cloaks tightly to us so they wouldn’t snag. It was just light enough for me to see their dim outlines in the gloom.

  “I think I have a
flashlight in here…” said Jessica, reaching into her wicker basket.

  “I could light my hands up?” I offered.

  “Oh, that’s very sweet,” she said, “but let’s hold off on the flames until we reach the Ceremony spot. We don’t want to start a forest fire.” I agreed that she had a point, as it was impossible for me to walk more than a few inches at a time without grazing at least a bit of wood. She finally found the flashlight inside the basket, and a bright yellow light suddenly illuminated the path ahead. “There’s a great clearing not too far from here, if I recall…” she said.

  The forest around us became thicker and took on a feeling of heaviness, like we were sinking deep into a body of water. There was a sudden scuffling in the trees and the girls and I jumped at the sound. A fluctuation in the darkness to my left told me that Lizzie had just vanished and reappeared.

  “I’m sure it’s just a regular woodland creature,” said Harriet calmly. “There’s no way for the traitor to track us… yet…” I remembered the traitor witch creeping through the trees behind Huerta’s Restaurant, her beady blood-red eyes on us as she emerged from the shadows… I shivered silently in the darkness even though the night was quite mild.

  After about fifteen minutes of hiking, Jessica pushed aside a low-hanging branch which opened onto a large clearing in the trees. “Aha!” she said. “This is it! Isn’t it perfect?”

  The girls and I murmured our assent as we looked around at the clearing. It was a wide, almost perfectly circular space that was about as big as the library at the house. The ground was smooth dirt, and the surrounding trees grew thick and close together, like the bars of a giant cage made of tree trunks. The trees stretched high above us, forming a large circular window made of leaves that opened onto the starry sky with its pale crescent moon.

  Jasper set the cauldron in the center of the clearing and removed his katana from it, while Jessica pulled a glass container about the size of a champagne bottle from her wicker basket. A shimmering silver substance swirled thickly around inside it, visible even in the dim moonlight.