The Return of The Witch

by M. J. Caan

  This was good. It might just be the break that we needed. “How do we go about doing this?”

  “This particular type of magic falls under your aunt’s purview,” said Aunt Vivian eying her sister. “I’ll get the supplies.” With that, she left the basement and headed up the stairs, no doubt to their shared study.

  “Do you need help?” I asked.

  “Not with this…but while I am casting this spell I need you to focus on the wards around the house. This type of magic can attract a lot of unwanted eyes. You focus on keeping us veiled, got it?” I nodded and mentally reached out to touch the wards, just to make sure they were all still up and in place.

  Elion was pacing the length of the short entryway like a caged panther. I asked Cody if he would mind making a sandwich run. He took Nate and Rob with him, seeming to catch the vibe that the fewer people present for this spell, the better.

  “You okay?” I asked Elion.

  “Why did you do that?” he asked, standing in place long enough to stare me down.

  “What? You mean save your life?”

  “My life was not yours to save.”

  “What are you going on about? Wait…did you want to die out there?”

  He hesitated before replying and that gave me my answer.

  “Allie, I’ve been alive for a very long time. Longer than you can comprehend. And during that time I’ve done things—things that I am ashamed of, things that would make you hate me. If you knew…you would not have hesitated to let me die in there.” His black eyes were cast downward and I searched the tone of his words to see if there was meaning deeper than what he was stating.

  “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know what you did in your past, but you came to us offering help. Saying that you were reformed, that you were more than your vampiric nature. Was that all a lie?”

  His black eyes smoldered as they bore into me. “No. That was all true.” He took a deep breath and released a heavy sigh. “I’m tired, Allie. Tired of so much fighting and bloodshed. Tired of literally killing other living creatures so that I can live. You have no idea how heavy the weight I feel is.”

  He was wrong. I was starting to understand just how he felt. But I kept my mouth shut.

  “Look, I’m not going to try and convince you of anything,” I said. “Honestly, I don’t have time to do that. Instead, I’m going to be painfully truthful and selfish. I don’t give a damn about your whiny, emo feelings right now. We are all about to be wiped off the face of the earth, or eaten by ghouls, or who knows…so forgive me if I don’t have it in me to indulge your self-pity right now. The truth is, I need you. You’re a weapon for me to point at Mallis and his crew. That’s what I need from you. Your power, your strength, and your knowledge of the enemy. I don’t give two shits about what you do after we win this fight. And mark my words, we will win. Failure is not an option.” I stepped closer to him. He was taller than me, but I looked up directly into his eyes without blinking. “So hear me, and hear me well. You’re going to table your shit, help us defeat Mallis and the Warlock, and then and only then, you can do whatever the hell you want to do with your…un-life.”

  He didn’t say a word, just kept those black eyes trained on me.

  “Besides, I think that’s all bullshit anyway. If you wanted to die, you could walk out into the sun at any time. But I saw all the carcasses you tried feeding on back there in that hole. You were fighting for your life…there was nothing defeatist in the Elion I saw back there.”

  There was a ruffle behind us, near the stairs. I walked down the hallway in time to see Hope scurrying quietly back up the stairs, brushing past Aunt Vivian as she returned with an armload of jars filled with various powders and dried herbs.

  “What did I miss?” she said taking the temperature of the room.

  Aunt Lena, who had been sitting on the couch with her eyes closed during our exchange just shrugged. “These kids and their manufactured drama.” She smiled and reached out to take some of the jars from her sister and arrange them on the coffee table before her. Then she motioned for Elion to sit down beside her.

  “Allie, mind the wards,” she said. “And you, vampire. I’m going to access the memories of someone buried deep within you at this time. This might hurt a bit.”

  16

  As I watched Aunt Lena work with Elion, I couldn’t help but wonder how much more there was to the art of witchcraft that I needed to learn. Would I ever know everything that my aunts knew? They had a lifetime of practice behind them, while I was so new to my power. Still, I was the Reliquary. Mine was a higher calling and a greater responsibility. Part of me resented the fact that I wasn’t involved in the conjuring the blood memory spell. It would have been the perfect learning opportunity.

  Stop it, Allie. Concentrate on what you need to do. I reached out with my mind and tickled at the wards. Then I poured some extra magic into them. In my mind’s eye, I pictured them as reflective mirrors, creating a dome that would completely mask our house from any and all magical signatures. Still, a part of me couldn’t resist eavesdropping on Aunt Lena and Elion.

  The two of them sat on the floor facing one another, legs folded beneath them. Aunt Lena held a walking staff across her lap. I recognized that staff from the night my aunts had summoned the spirit of the Warlock to question him in their study. The sight of it and the memory of that night made me shiver. Between them, there was a large silver bowl filled with water. Aunt Vivian stood behind Aunt Lena, both hands on a different staff, the heel of which she had planted firmly in front of her.

  “What do you need me to do?” Elion asked.

  “Not a thing, dear. Just close your eyes and relax. Don’t fight the spell when you feel it,” replied Aunt Lena. “Hold out your hands, palms up.”

  Elion did as he was told and Aunt Lena placed her own hands, palms down, on his. Immediately she withdrew her hands, a surprised look on her face.

  “What is it?” said Elion.

  “Nothing…your mind is…shielded, it seems. A byproduct of being dead, I assume. No matter, just relax. Concentrate on the moment you bit into the hellhound, what it made you feel, what you sensed through the connection. I’ll do the rest.”

  Again they resumed their previous connection, hands touching above the silver bowl of water.

  “Etrion ature imex,” said Aunt Lena softly, “Mother Earth, give me your sight and show me what the blood remembers. Etrion ature imex…Etrion ature imex!” When she opened her eyes, they flared white. Elion’s body stiffened in response to the incantation, but he kept his eyes closed as he was told.

  Aunt Lena leaned forward and stared into the bowl.

  “Don’t move, Elion,” she said. “You’re going to feel a little pinch.” She lifted one hand and held it over her head, never once taking her eyes off the bowl. Aunt Vivian handed her a small silver dagger no bigger than a letter opener. Still staring into the water, Aunt Lena took the dagger and opened a small cut in Elion’s palm. The wound began to close almost instantaneously but not before she was able to dip the tip of the blade in his blood, like a macabre quill into a brackish jar of ink.

  “Etrion fae namare,” she said, “show me the hidden.” Then she placed the tip of the knife into the water and stirred slowly.

  The water hissed in response and tiny wisps of smoke began to snake upward from the surface, encircling my aunt as she continued to peer into the bowl. Aunt Vivian raised her staff a few inches off the floor and slammed it back down, causing the smoke tendrils to evaporate and retreat back into the bowl. The surface of the water turned a bright, highly reflective red, and slowly, images began to appear. It was like suddenly looking down into a television screen that needed to be cleaned. A bit murky in places, but moving pictures were definitely forming.

  Slowly, a scene materialized in the darkened fluid. It started as a hazy outdoor scene, like someone was running through a field, recording on their phone as they went. A house came into view briefly, a large, stately Victorian with an
intricate rose garden leading into a high shrub maze. Whoever was filming ran toward the garden and then the camera whooshed upward at a dizzying rate, only to come back down again beyond the maze, at the bottom of a grand concrete stairway that led to an oversized covered front porch.

  Another leap and the porch had been gained. Now, we were at the massive double front doors that led into the house. A nudge opened them and the view suddenly morphed to the interior space of a very well-appointed foyer with a large circular mahogany table adorned with a tall white vase with an assortment of grasses and beautiful flowers shooting out of the top. A grand circular stairway flanked the table to either side, flowing gracefully up to a catwalk landing that overlooked the space.

  We moved through the entry and under the overlook, heading deeper into the mansion. A quick turn and the view changed to a large drawing room ringed with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. A massive, ornate fireplace dominated the far wall of the room. It was big enough that two large men could have stood comfortably inside. The room was dark—whatever windows there were let no light into the space. The soft flicker of dozens of candles spread throughout the room provided the only source of illumination.

  Our view swiveled to the back of the room, where a large desk covered in intricate carvings squated. Behind it, a figure draped in shadows sat. The figure rose and stepped forward into the light, seeming to walk towards us.

  Mallis. I felt my heart quicken and a sudden spike of adrenaline shoot through me at the site of him.

  “So…you’ve returned from your hunt, I see.” His voice sounded hollow and far away, like he was speaking through a tin can. It was both eerie and disorienting to hear voices float up from the bowl. “I take it you did not find the injured turncoat? You should have finished him when you had the chance.”

  “Oh, come my love,” came another voice, floating into the space. The hollowness of the bowl made it difficult to tell from which direction it emanated. “The vampire was stronger than you led us to believe. He actually managed to hurt a hellhound.”

  Our view swung around to the library entrance to take in a tall female form standing in the doorway. She wore a long black dress that pooled at her feet, but her face was covered in shadow. She started to step into the room, but abruptly stopped.

  “What is it?” said Mallis, his voice instantly taking on an alarmed tone.

  “Don’t move and don’t speak!” said the woman. She reached, stretching one arm in our direction. Palm out, fingers splayed, she let loose a blast of light that nearly blinded all of us that were looking down into the bowl.

  “Allie!” screamed Aunt Vivian. “The wards!”

  Damnit! Too late, I realized my attention on them had wavered. I was too engrossed in what was playing out in the bowl of water. Reaching out, I probed the wards, breathing a sigh of relief when I realized they were still up…only something was wrong. They were cracked, splintering in places. I immediately poured magic into repairing them, only to feel them begin to break apart even faster. Large chunks seemed to be sliding off quicker than I could repair them.

  “Ummm…something is wrong,” I said through gritted teeth. “The wards…they are—”

  Before I could finish the sentence, another flash of light broke free from the bowl, this time accompanied by a rolling wave of thunder that split the air. The bowl began to hum as Aunt Lena broke her contact with Elion. They dropped their hands and eased away from the glowing basin. Just as quickly as it appeared, the light vanished and the water returned to its normal, reflective state in the vessel.

  “Well at least we know—” started Aunt Lena, but her words were cut off as a ghastly hand reached up out of the bowl. The sudden appearance startled both Aunt Lena and Elion as each tumbled back away from the appendage. An arm followed as the hand reached higher out of the bowl, the fingers wriggling and flexing slowly, teasing the air around them.

  “Get back!” said Aunt Vivian as she brought her staff forward, aiming it at the arm.

  Before she could mutter an attacking spell, however, the fingers straightened menacingly in her direction and again flung a bolt of white light at her, knocking her backwards across the room. Before any of us could respond, the arm wavered, becoming transparent and then disappearing, only to be replaced by black smoke that rose from the bowl, billowing across the ceiling to hang in place, floating in midair opposite myself and Cody. It reminded me of an old show that my aunts used to watch about an misogynistic astronaut who kept a genie enslaved in a bottle and only let her out when he needed something.

  Only this puff of smoke didn’t solidify into a perky blonde wearing some oversexed male’s idea of an Arabian harem outfit. No. This smoke monster slowly became solid, taking on the form of a tall woman dressed head-to-toe in black. I could practically feel her eyes staring at us. At least I imagined they were; I couldn’t really tell because a veil covered her face.

  “I had hoped it would not come to this,” she said, her voice still ephemeral and sounding far away. “But you have left me no choice.”

  “Witch!” said Aunt Lena. “You have chosen your doom in coming here! And so help me, if you have harmed my sister…”

  “You’ll what?” replied the witch. “Drown me in tea? Plant me in a garden?”

  The menace in her voice drowned out any hint of snark. Time to put an end to this. I raised my hand and conjured a bolt of mystical force and hurled it at the witch. She spun to face me, raising one arm to effortlessly deflect the bolt. The magic ricocheted away from her, shattering one of the sets of French doors that led out to the lower-level deck.

  The witch raised the hand she had used to block my magic up to her face, seeming to examine something. “Interesting,” she said. She then extended her hand in my direction, unleashing a sizzling blast of magic in my direction. In a blur, Cody was in front of me in hybrid form, taking the brunt of the blast, but it still struck hard enough that it sent the both of us reeling backwards. The impact with the carpeted floor knocked the breath out of me. I landed on top of Cody and rolled over onto all fours, gasping as I tried to see if he was okay. The blast of magic had singed his fur but otherwise had not done too much damage. That was surprising since the blast had been meant for me. Was the witch holding back?

  I struggled to my feet just as Cody leapt to his. He shifted to full wolf form and bounded back into the large living space, a full throated growl let her know his intention as he stalked toward the witch.

  “No, Cody, stay back.” Aunt Lena had risen from her position next to Aunt Vivian. She stepped forward, protecting her sister, staff held before her. “No telling what this one might do with you…stay close to Allie. I’ll handle this.”

  “Handle me?” said the witch. “Are you mad, woman…?”

  Her words were strangled off by an unseen force that grabbed her from behind. The witch struggled against whatever held her in an invisible vice-like grip. I looked at Aunt Lena and could see her lips moving quickly as she invoked a silent binding spell. Her staff was aimed squarely at the witch in her grasp, and the end of it made small circular motions in the air.

  The witch was lifted off the floor a few feet as Aunt Lena applied more pressure against her. Her arms were held down at her side and her hands bound by magic as she attempted to raise them in my aunt’s direction. I closed my eyes and drew upon my magic, willing my senses to see the unseen.

  When I opened my eyes I could see the wispy mystic chains that Aunt Lena had conjured to hold the witch in place. But I could also see the raw power the witch was drawing on to combat her bindings. I could see the strain in the chains as Aunt Lena struggled to maintain them; they weren’t going to hold much longer.

  I moved to the center of the room and gestured at the witch. I called upon my own version of bindings and reinforced the chains that were thrown around her. Instantly, I could feel the witch’s strength. She called upon blackness and asked it to help her break the spell that bound her. I could feel the dark come creeping into the room. It
seeped in from all directions, snaking across the floor to do its master’s bidding.

  I could feel the dark tendrils crawl around me as they sought a way through my defenses. They crept stealthily up behind Aunt Lena, pillars of evil that were erected behind her, waiting to topple forward and crush her under their relentless weight. My warning scream was cut off as one of the black wraiths clawed at my throat, attempting to choke the life out of me.

  I dropped the spell I was using to help bind the witch and instead focused on keeping the blackness from worming its way into my mouth and lungs. The sensation caused me to flash back to first attack the witch had launched on me when I was on the deck, and I could feel my adrenaline rush giving way to crushing fear.

  “Allie…!” came a deep voice, cutting through the terror. The blackness was smothering now, engulfing me and threatening to carry me away. “Allie!” It was Cody’s wolf calling to me again, threatening…hungry.

  “Allie, snap out of it! Do something!” No. Not the wolf. Just Cody…he was imploring me…pleading for my help. “She’s going to kill Lena!”

  His words cut through the darkness and struck me like a red-hot knife.

  No. This was not about to happen on my watch. “Evultis!” I shouted a single word meant to expel darkness and let in light. Blue fire erupted from inside me, flaring out in all directions. It burned through the blackness that sought to bound me. The flames hugged my body, suffusing me with warmth and safety. I could feel myself floating in the air, held aloft by the power of my determination and will.

  Power flowed from my eyes as I regarded the scene before me. The witch had broken free of the binding spell Aunt Lena had thrown around her. She was advancing on my aunt with what looked like a mystically manifested black blade that glowed and spit dark magic. She held her free hand out before her, hooked into an obscene claw position. Aunt Lena had dropped her staff and was grabbing at her throat with both hands, trying in vain to free herself of the invisible force that was choking her.