Witchling Wars

by Shawn Knightley

  ‘What does he expect? I had to do something to entertain myself. To get my mind off of Maddie. Off of Emily. Off of everything!’

  A large table was in the center of the room. It wasn’t huge. Maybe the size of Madison’s guest bedroom. But it was enough for me. I had gran’s ancestral book in the corner on an end table and her grimoire wide open on a stand I took from the library that had been holding a copy of Shakespeare’s ‘Othello.’ A copy I had little doubt was once again, an original. Well, Shakespeare could take a backseat for the moment. I had greater needs.

  I walked over to the table and took a page of her grimoire into my hand, examining her old writing. I loved seeing her handwriting there on the page. Her recipes. Her potions. Even though we kruxa don’t have a vast amount of magic, we learned how to use what little we have effectively. At least in small ways.

  I peered over at a glass bottle I swiped from the downstairs kitchen. The liquid inside of it was bubbling. Gran’s grimoire claimed this potion could take up to two weeks before the mixture started to bubble on its own. Miraculously, only the liquid was hot. Not the glass. I could touch it and examine its color without getting burned.

  I turned on a lamp in the corner that I brought in from my bedroom and took a closer look. The hue was bright violet. Just what I needed. And it only took twelve days. Not fourteen like gran’s grimoire claimed. I guess the few ingredients I managed to find worked well enough.

  Water. A strand of my hair. A butterfly wing, which I only managed to get because one flew near my window just as I was closing it. I crushed it when I slammed down the glass.

  ‘Sorry butterfly. You will not have died in vain.’

  A wasp wing. A pinch of honey. Aged cinnamon. A burst of magic from my palm. An eyelash. And my personal favorite, a blue rose petal. Gran taught me how to dye rose petals when I was a little girl, manipulating the soil and infusing the ground with our magic. Humans had to genetically engineer them. Witchlings could make them grow. A vixra could make them grow in a matter of seconds, enriching the earth with their magic. Let’s just say a kruxa’s magic took a little more time.

  I plopped down in the chair that used to be in my rather large bathroom and sat at the table with the mixture in my hand, turning open the notebook Eli had given me. He rarely wrote me back. Once a week I would see a note written in the book letting me know that my sister was recovering and I would hopefully see her again in a matter of weeks. That was all. I had been cut off. Shut out. Practically banished. Not that I was offended or even bothered. Most vixra didn’t like us to start with. I didn’t expect special treatment. Especially after I made Eli so angry. But I did expect more news on my sister than I was getting.

  ‘You won’t get away with that for long,’ I thought as a mischievous smile crossed my face.

  Nathaniel occasionally used the notebook to give me small updates as well. To ask how I was, what I was doing with my days, and if Tobias was treating me in an untoward manner. Which he never did because I rarely ever saw him. But Nathaniel wasn’t with Eli anymore. He hadn’t been for weeks. He messaged me through to the notebook over a month ago to tell me Tobias had given him orders to do his bidding and that it wasn’t something he could share. I hadn’t heard from him since. And I suspected Tobias had done it on purpose. Maybe the arrogant prick didn’t like that Nathaniel and I were checking in on each other. Or that Nathaniel cared about me on some level that not even I entirely understood.

  I took out a pen from my pocket. One with a half-empty ink compartment. Then I took a dropper I stole from the kitchen a few days prior and dipped it into the potion I brewed from gran’s grimoire, added it to the ink and watched the two mixtures blend into one. I closed the pen and set the tip to the paper parchment of the notebook Eli gave me.

  ‘Deep breath,’ I ordered myself. ‘Just take a deep breath.’

  This was an old potion. So old that I didn’t think gran had come up with the mixture herself. It had been used during the days of writing letters back and forth being the fastest method of communication. Once the ink was read by the receiver of the letter, a kruxa could channel their magic through the ink to see the person reading it. And not only that. They could project their consciousness to the room of the receiver. To see what they see. Their surroundings. Even walk around. It was the only way to see more of what was going on with Eli. If he was going to continue keeping me in the dark like I was an irresponsible twat for trying to save Emily’s life when she most needed me, then I wasn’t going to feel bad about this. Not even one tiny little bit. Nervous, however, that was a different thing entirely.

  I closed my eyes, prepared myself, then began writing.

  ‘Eli,

  I was hoping to learn more about my sister. How is her recovery coming along and when might she be able to see her daughters again? They’ve never been separated from her for this long and I get phone calls from them all the time asking when their mom is going to come home.

  Also, do you have any advice for me pending the Congressman’s trial? I have to testify soon and I want to know what I should an should not say. I realize all witchling business must be kept out but is there anything else you would like for me to be made aware of before I’m thrown into the media spotlight again? I gather that this might garner more vixra attention to me that could stir up problems. Please advise me in any way you see necessary.

  Harper Ashwood.’

  I kept it formal and to the point. Eli might have been making me a bit irritated but I still had to show him respect. If not for my own sake, then for Nathaniel’s. I didn’t want to be the sole reason why he wasn’t to receive anymore vixra blood in the future.

  The words didn’t evaporate and turn to smoke like they did the previous time I had written in the notebook. Which could only mean one thing. Eli was busy. He wasn’t around to open up his notebook and read what I had written. Meaning I would have to try again another day.

  ‘Damn it!’

  I got up from the table and went over to turn off the lamp. Then I started to head for the door to go to bed.

  Just as I touched the door to pull it inward, images started crossing my mind. I glanced back at the notebook. Smoke was barreling out of the edges. Black smoke from the ink mixed in with gran’s potion. Eli was reading my message.

  I crumbled to the floor, feeling unsteady as the ground beneath me started to fade away. I wasn’t seeing the hidden room anymore. I was somewhere else. I was looking down at the notebook.

  No! Eli was looking down at the notebook. He was writing me back.

  I didn’t have much time. I forced the images in my mind to expand. To see all around Eli’s body. I was in a room inside Eli’s house. I could move around. Like a strange ghostly spirit, I could move about undetected. Unseen. I stood up and left his body, forming into my own. I watched him as he sat and penned down words to me, knowing I didn’t have much time. I had to move fast.

  Chapter 3

  I can’t say that walking around like a spirit feels anything like Hollywood portrays. It’s not like in the movie Ghost where Patrick Swayze sees the inside of a person’s body or the inside of a door as he passes through them. I didn’t even take time to notice. I ran through the door and did my best to look around as fast as possible, knowing I didn’t have much time to work with. I had to gather any hint of my surroundings with nothing more than a glance. And a hint as to where Madison might be.

  Once I went through the door of Eli’s study, I found myself standing near a large banister. But not just any banister. It was high. Very high. Maybe four or five floors high. There was stone everywhere and it was lit by lights strung up along the walls to look like lanterns with a luminous glow. Almost like a castle that had only the most necessary modern upgrades. Built strong and meant to last the test of time without the extravagant details of modernity tainting its foundations.

  I didn’t give myself too much time to admire it. I didn’t know how long Eli might take to write me back and I didn’t know how lo
ng the potion in the ink would last.

  I ran down the hall, not making a sound. It was kind of creepy actually. Moving without making a single sound of footsteps on the floor.

  I heard voices in the far corner of the long hallway decorated with tapestries that looked older than anything I had seen up close. This house was for the rich. That much was certain. Maybe even royalty at one point. Which made a certain sense. The vixra were the witchling version of royalty. Born with power and magic that I would never possess. This home, however, this castle, this palace, whatever it was, would take multiple attempts to navigate. I could easily get lost. There were several weaving halls going down the one I chose and countless rooms.

  I chose a hall where the voices were coming from, only to find that when I reached the end there was a giant staircase. Bigger than the Congressman’s staircase. Bigger than Tobias’s. It led downward toward a large entrance decorated with a ceiling covered in art. Portraits of people from an age long since forgotten.

  I walked down a couple of the steps to see three people down below chatting with one another. And not one of them sounded particularly pleased.

  “There’s no reason to bring the girl here. We have her sister. If she steps out of line-” the older man said.

  ‘We have her sister? What did he say? I thought they were caring for her. Not kidnapping her! Where the hell is Maddie?’

  “It’s not enough,” said another man I didn’t recognize. He wasn’t quite as old as the one closer to me, but still old enough to possibly be Eli’s father.

  Then it occurred to me. These were vixra. They aged one year for every five. These men were potentially over two-hundred years old.

  “I’ll make sure she doesn’t step out of line,” said a young woman. Her flaming red hair was the same color as mine. But her head was turned away from me. I inched closer to get a look. They started walking away. I was only grateful that the potion seemed to be working like a charm. They couldn’t see or hear me. Not even a little. I was completely invisible. Eavesdropping like a true spy. Maybe it was a bit childish of me but I felt a bit like a detective.

  “You’re not in a position to vouch for the honor of that girl,” one of the men spat. “You’re not in a position to vouch for anyone.”

  “Then why did you ask me to come here?” she demanded in a deep voice.

  The older man interrupted and started to protest when I felt a tingling in my right hand. I peered down to see it was fading away right before my eyes.

  ‘No, no, no! Not yet! I need more time!’

  It was too late. My entire body started to fade away in a pillar of smoke. Eli had stopped writing in the notebook.

  The ground beneath me in the room back at Tobias’s house came so fast that I stumbled right into the table. I managed to catch myself but that didn’t stop a few items on top of it from tumbling down. Including the large amount of gran’s potion I brewed in the glass bottle.

  “Shit!” I hollered as I ran to catch it. I was too late. The mixture smashed into the floor and the glass shattered. The wooden floorboards made a hissing sound as the potion spilled all over the place and slowly evaporated into thin air, leaving a purple stain that I doubted would ever come out no matter how hard I scrubbed it.

  ‘Great. Just great. It took nearly two weeks to brew the damn potion and now I have to do it again. And how am I supposed to find more butterfly wings? And wasp wings?’

  I grunted in frustration and kicked the leg of the table. Not the best idea in the world granted I had a thin pair of Converse shoes on my feet. I stubbed my toe and started hopping over to the chair where Eli’s notebook was sitting wide open.

  I managed to sit down and see what he wrote in just enough time before it started evaporating away in a cloud of black ink.

  Harper,

  Your sister is doing better. Her recovery has been long and arduous. I will ask my family’s physician when she might be able to come home but I don’t think it wise for her to leave at this time. We have potions and magic here at our disposal that will aid in her recovery.

  As for the trial, maintain the story that you’re nothing more than a town psychic who didn’t know what she was getting into. No one needs to know more than that. If you can, ask Tobias if he can remove the brand from your side in case it comes up in court given the victims had the brand as well.

  Eli

  ‘Fat chance! Tobias likes me being branded. As does Nathaniel.’

  I slammed the notebook shut in a huff.

  I had an evening date with a vampire that I honestly couldn’t stand. I was a target for Ragna’s temper. And for all I knew, the vixra were holding Madison hostage until they decided what to do with me. Maybe Georgeanna was right. They would require my presence one day. They would lock me up. And they would use my sister as bait to get me there.

  The chair to the dining room table made an awful screeching noise as Tobias held it out for me the next evening at dinner. I sat down without a word as he scooted me in. At least old fashion manners weren’t beyond his vampire sensibilities.

  He took a crystal bottle from the table and poured himself what anyone else might think was a glass of wine, just as I suspected he would. I knew better. The thick liquid could only be one thing. Blood. I could smell it from where I sat. The metallic scent struck my nostrils and nearly made me recoil. How was I supposed to eat with that happening on the other side of the table? Which was gigantic by the way. And fit for nobility with its polished wood and golden lining. I wondered if the ice in my glass had spun gold granted the finery presented before me.

  The smell of blood was quickly replaced by another smell. One I recognized and very much preferred.

  A man walked in. A mortal man wearing a white hat. A chef’s hat. He presented a plate before me with one of those fancy silver tops that didn’t reveal the food inside until he lifted it.

  Spaghetti Bolognese. How in the world did Tobias know this was my favorite? Or did he?

  ‘Of course he did. He probably asked the construction workers he has rebuilding my house what’s stocked in my pantry.’

  It wouldn’t be too difficult to tell my preferences. I practically stocked noodles and spaghetti sauce for the winter like it was going to sell out.

  “I hope the meal is alright,” said Tobias. “I have no sense for these things anymore but William is truly one of the best chefs in the city.”

  “A rather simplistic dish for the best chef in the city,” I said.

  William turned to Tobias. “I was told this would please your guest,” he said in a questioning tone. As if he feared he might have been misled and made a mistake. And only God knew what a mistake like that would cost him. I could sense the fear permeating off his body.

  ‘Good lord. He knows. He knows Tobias is a vampire. And that he’s powerful.’

  “You did excellent, William. Harper is being sarcastic.”

  “Oh,” he sighed with relief and gave a small uncomfortable laugh once he realized I wasn’t criticizing the meal. “Of course. Excuse me.”

  He poured me a glass of red wine. I sniffed it just to be sure that grapes were the only thing I could smell. And not that awful metallic smell coming from the other side of the table. William went back to the kitchen as I reached for a silver fork. I was about to dine with a vampire. And not just any vampire. Tobias Vallas. The leader of the Catach-Brayin. I wanted to hammer him with questions. Even though I knew he wouldn’t allow it. He would have what he wanted first, which was my submission. At least for the pleasantry of a meal together. He sure as hell wasn’t getting anything else.

  I twirled my fork in the spaghetti, feeling Tobias’s eyes linger over me. My magic was tingling under my fingertips. Not because I was in danger. Tobias wouldn’t hurt me. Or at least I didn’t think so. Why would he have kept me alive this long if I was a threat to him? No, it was there for another reason. Perhaps to keep me on my toes. Alert. Aware that anything could happen and I needed to watch Tobias like a hawk.
<
br />   “You’ll take a private plane back to Dilton tomorrow evening,” he said randomly.

  I stopped just before taking the first bite of food. “Why? I don’t have to give my testimony for a few days yet.”

  “The court date has been moved up. The Congressman’s attorney has requested to have a briefing with you prior to you taking the stand to give you further instructions on what to say. I doubt the prosecution will be kind. You must be prepared. He’ll likely call you names and try to make it appear as though you’re incompetent and there was no way you can possibly know the Congressman’s state of mind.”

  “Will Nathaniel accompany me again?” I asked.

  He took a sip of blood and placed the crystal glass back on the table, letting his fingers rest on the base. “No,” he said firmly.

  “But why? Brian is still on the loose. He could find me and-”

  “I won’t let him. I’ll be coming with you. Ragna will have temporary control of the coven while I’m in Dilton with you.”

  ‘Um, no. Hell no!’

  He must have seen the repulsion on my face because he feigned being offended. “Why does my company alarm you?” he asked.

  “Do I really need to answer that? Your kind and mine don’t exactly get along.”

  “You tolerate Nathaniel.”

  “Exactly!” I nearly shouted, then reminded myself of where I was and who he was. I had to keep my cool. “I tolerate him. And he tolerates me. It’s a relationship of mutual tolerance and nothing else.”

  “Who are you trying to convince,” he said with a grin. “Me or yourself?”

  I dropped the silver fork and crossed my arms over my chest. “You want to be in Dilton to help the Congressman, don’t you? You still consider him valuable?”

  He took another sip of the blood in his glass before speaking again. “Not in the way I had hoped. But that doesn’t mean I want him rotting in a prison cell either. He can remain useful in other ways.”