by Mark Hockley
glimmering in the distance. A large house was situated within these grounds and it was brightly lit, despite the hour. The girl knew this was where Rebecca's SpiritHeart must be kept. "Will there be guards?" she whispered.
"No guards," Grace murmured and Ellie couldn't help but feel relieved. The witch glanced at her, pale features just an outline in the dimness. "Just traps."
Zack started awake. Something was suffocating him. A hand across his mouth. He struggled, disorientated.
"Be still," came the voice of Jeremiah in a hiss.
The boy relaxed a little, his eyes straining to see in the darkness of his room. "What's going on?" he asked with urgency once the man had removed his hand.
"It's started," came the terse response, "most of the others are out there now. I couldn't stop them."
"What!?" Zack exclaimed, unable to contain his alarm.
"They have torches," stated Jeremiah, already moving away from the bed towards the door.
"Oh my God," the boy whispered, throwing the blankets off and getting to his feet.
"Quickly," ushered the man, his own demeanour increasingly tense, "We have to stop this before anyone gets hurt."
In Zack's mind images flashed by, Ellie, Luke, Beth. But most of all, Leonie. He would not let anything hurt her.
The three women stood before an imposing door, steps leading up to it beneath a stone archway.
"So do we just ring the bell?" Ellie enquired, keeping her voice low.
Grace ignored her and moved forward. "Unlock," she said and they heard an audible click from within. Without further delay, the witch simply pushed the door inwards and entered.
Helen followed on behind, leaving Ellie momentarily standing outside alone. She looked about her, everything still. The lights from the house illuminated beautiful gardens, well maintained with numerous flowers and plants.
Why keep all the lights on during the night, wondered the girl. Were they expected?
With an uneasy sensation gnawing at her, she climbed the steps and went through the doorway into the house. Time to find out one way or the other.
29
If I am a witch, does that mean my Mum is one too? Crazy idea I know, but you get to thinking. I just can't see it to be honest. No offence, but my Mum just isn't the type! Okay, I realise there is no 'this is how a witch acts' manual, but come on, I would have known if she was. Seriously, that woman can't control herself, let alone anything else. So where did I inherit this power? Beats me.
Whatever Ellie had expected to see as she entered the house, it was not what greeted her. The three of them were standing in a single large room, perfectly square. Doors were situated in each wall. But the most striking thing about it was that everything was blue. Blue walls, ceilings, furnishings. It was quite dazzling in a harsh, unsettling way.
The girl glanced at her companions and both seemed somewhat perplexed. "Go very carefully," Helen said softly.
Ellie didn't need to be told. Her pulse was hammering away and despite the fact that the room was not warm at all, she felt a light sweat on her neck.
Grace went cautiously forward, ever watchful and Helen followed perhaps five feet behind, scanning both the floor and the walls. They were both obviously expecting trouble. Ellie hung back a little and noted that there were no windows, the light in the room provided by two enormous blue tinted chandeliers.
Even as the girl looked up at them she heard an odd mechanical whirl, the sound abruptly breaking the silence. She whipped her head around to see an opening appear above the doorway at the far end of the room and from inside a silver contraption appeared, as if moving along a track. It trundled forward and Ellie realised with sudden panic that it was some kind of weapon, similar to a crossbow. "Watch out!" she shouted, but even as she called there was a ratcheting sound as the machine released its bolt.
"Deflect," cried out Grace as the missile whooshed through the air at them and the bolt altered its trajectory just a few inches away from striking her, shooting off to imbed itself in a wall. It all happened incredibly fast and Ellie had to take in several long breaths to get herself under control.
With extraordinary casualness, Helen went over to examine the object.
A metallic dart was buried in the plaster. It must have been at least six inches in length judging by how much still protruded from the wall.
Grace and Helen exchanged an ironic look.
Ellie definitely didn't want to be taking the lead after that and waited for Grace to approach the door that had been protected by the crossbow device. Even as she looked on, the mechanism retracted and disappeared.
Without delay, Grace went confidently to the door, took hold of the handle and opened it.
For a moment, Ellie thought something had happened to her as she just stood there framed in the doorway, unmoving. Then coming up behind her, the girl saw that there was another identical room beyond. Identical in every way except its colour.
This one was entirely yellow.
Great, she thought, we have the interior decorator from hell who likes to set traps for unwary visitors! And yet, they were hardly visitors were they? They were unwanted intruders intent on stealing a very precious artefact.
And whoever had set these traps had expected someone to come. Ellie didn't consider herself to be any kind of genius, but it didn't take one to know that there would be other things designed to stop them before they reached their goal.
She waited for Grace to enter the adjoining room and then pointedly allowed Helen to follow. Ellie was more than happy to remain in last place. Age and arrogance before brains and beauty she decided.
Out in the night of Witch Town, Zack was becoming frantic.
There was noise in every direction. Shouting, cries of anger, screams of pain.
Lights flickers to his left, to his right. Whether it was flames or lanterns he could not say. He moved faster, running, Jeremiah at his side. Without really thinking, they were both making for the Green Coven House.
Sprinting now as the sound of raised voices grew ever louder, they were nearing their destination and rounded a corner to come face to face with a mob of perhaps half a dozen men, all carrying torches. Their eyes were wild in the firelight and Jeremiah confronted them with a shout of warning. "Hold!"
At the forefront was the grey-haired man who Zack had met before. He gazed at Jeremiah with barely contained zeal. "Now is the time! You and the boy grab a torch and let's end this!"
"No," bellowed Jeremiah, standing his ground. The other men milled about restlessly, eager to move away. There was fear, anticipation, anger, all vying with each other in their expressions.
"If you're not with us, just stand aside!" called out another voice from the group.
"No!" repeated Jeremiah once more. "I will not let you do this, Samuel." Zack took up a position at the man's shoulder. He had no idea what they could do against this band of men if it came to a physical confrontation, but he would not back down.
The man named Samuel who led them held his flaming torch aloft. "This is the way forward, Jeremiah. No more talk. This is the only way to change things!"
There was movement now to their left and the silhouettes of people approaching caught Zack's eye. All heads turned to see the three women advancing, the green of their accessories revealed in the torchlight.
"What is this!? What you are doing here!?" the first demanded as she came into view. Zack scanned their faces and was relieved to see Leonie among them. At least she had not been hurt. The girl registered him with a start, but said nothing. She turned her attention to the gang of men.
The spokesman for the mob stepped forward, trying to hide his fear at their arrival. "Keep away!" he shouted at them. "Do not speak again. You cannot subdue us all. If you force our hand, it will go badly for you." He sounded less than confident in his own words.
There was a commotion somewhere off to their left and this caused most heads to turn for a few moments. More cries in the night. Further distant ther
e were other sounds less distinguishable.
Zack recognised that there must be many small groups out there, intent on destruction. Already the boy could see smoke drifting into the sky.
The witch who had spoken challenged them with a fierce glare. "Do not defy us! You are Husbands! Return to your dwellings! How dare you threaten us!"
Now there was uncertainty among the men and some seemed in two minds. Several had an almost embarrassed look on their faces.
But Samuel suddenly roared, a shocking, animal sound that startled everyone. "No more!" And with that he stepped forward and thrust his torch at the witch, igniting her clothing.
For several long moments no-one moved. All eyes were locked on the woman as her garments began to burn, flames licking around her torso as the cloth was consumed by flame. The witch herself seemed to be transfixed by what was happening to her, merely looking down with dumb fascination. Her hair was burning now and it was then that she began to scream.
She had become a beacon in the darkness.
It was Leonie who rushed forward. "Extinguish!" she called, her eyes wide with shock. And although there was an immediate response from the flames, the other witch was clutching at her face and body, the fire already having caused terrible injury. She collapsed to the ground, moaning, all sign of the blaze now gone. But the damage had been done.
There was a stillness among them as Leonie knelt by her companion. Zack saw the horror in the girl's face and her anxious glance down at
