The sun was getting brighter, stronger as it rose into the sky. It cast out stinging rays of light, like hot pokers to their skin. Wincing, they pulled up their hoods, retreating.
Chapter Seventeen
Meele
The world has been ending for a long time. Humans destroy the planet with global warming every day, burning and flooding their own planet. They can’t see their end, but Meele can. Demons drift through the streets, killing or eating humans. They take down cities once every hundred years or so, to keep off the humans’ radar.
But the real problem is the blood-thirsty angels.
She had received a call from an old friend. Hella Corvime has been activated. Meele Scire packed a duffel bag and set off to the little town of Mill Valley, Australia. She had to meet the origin of the prophecy; the girl who would change the world. The promised witch, Hellora Corvime.
Once more, quickly, before she packed it away, she looked into the crystal ball.
Meele’s eyes glazed over, opaque. Warm Parisian air flowed through the open window, the break of dawn casting golden light along the walls. She stared into the possible futures; time is a fickle thing. It comes in many strands, almost endless possibilities. It changes with every decision, every birth and death. But this has remained the same. Now, she could see, the one and only future was in danger. In her hands, she held the small amethyst crystal ball. Gold sparks bounced off the ball from inside the crystal.
She saw the end of her race, the Cambions, and, following that, a cataclysmic upheaval for the humans. Watching the future, seeing the bloodshed, a single tear rolled down her cheek. She could not let this future happen. Meele could see, hear and feel the pain of those she loved.
Wiping her cheek, Meele stood up, stretching her long legs. She put the crystal ball into the bag. Praying to the stars, she shimmered into her Faerie form. She gathered up a blade from a bookshelf and sliced deeply into her upper arm, bleeding drops of deep golden blood. Meele let the fat drops fall onto the carpet. She moved her arm, creating a circle. Meele chanted the words of the Old Tongue, from her youth.
Slowly, the portal emerged.
Chapter Eighteen
Remy
Remy Stealthing was eighty-six years old and therefore too old to be sitting cross-legged on the hard, stone floor of the garden. She folded her arms over her chest, as if to convey this message to her fellow witches. The five younger women nodded, cheeky smiles on their beautiful faces. Together, before the official meeting, they liked to meditate, paying tribute to the Goddess. Remy rolled her eyes but respected the custom. The sun set around Sian’s garden, painting the sky in hues of rose-pink.
Sian, the head of their coven, got up, gesturing for the rest to do the same. Sian moved to stand over a large slab of stone, engraved with Wiccan prayers to their Goddess, upon which sat a large cauldron, Remy’s old book, and a myriad of potion ingredients. She looked to Remy. ‘This is a good plan,’ she said. ‘I like it. But are you quite sure it will work?’
Remy’s fingers touched the pages of her book fondly. ‘The knowledge I have gathered over the years, my vast experience… I have never created such a spell, it’s true, but I do believe it will work. The angels have it coming. We will use Hella, her strength will help.’
The other witches listened silently, watching their leader and their elder. Sian nodded. ‘We will go down in history,’ she said, ‘as the ones who saved the world from the angels.’ Her dark eyes glistened.
One witch, Hunter, raised her eyebrows. ‘You can kill angels?’ she asked. Her slim face was framed with black and teal hair. She was a unique member of the coven; part witch, part faerie. ‘Those bastards have taken my little sister, Tessa. They’re keeping her somewhere right now. Maybe ripping off her wings.’ Hunter choked on her last words.
Her girlfriend, Lola, put an arm around her. ‘We’ll get her back,’ Lola promised.
Remy shook her head. ‘We cannot kill them, no, my dear. But we will find your sister. In a slightly longer-term plan, this will effectively destroy them. The Cambions will finally be at peace.’
Lola’s arm was wrapped protectively around Hunter. ‘How do we do it, Remy?’
‘We banish them,’ Remy said, with a touch of pride at her spell.
‘Banish? How? To where?’ Lola asked, her face serious. Her sandy-blonde hair was tied up intricately in a braid by the crown of her head, pulling her face to seem like she was frowning.
‘Back from whence they came.’ Remy glowered. ‘To before they graced us with their presence. Back to Heaven. They’ll be locked away up there. Unable to return.’
‘That’s never been done before!’ Hunter cried out, voicing the thoughts of the other witches, now anxious. ‘How could we ever pull that off, what, with some spell you decided would work? We need to find where they’re keeping the Cambions, now.’
‘We have to work on this first, Hunter. Hella has been activated, she’s the centre of the prophecy. I know you’re worried about Tessa, but we can’t find her right now.’
Hunter opened her mouth to argue, but Sian silenced her with a look. ‘I know, Hunter. She’s our sister too, by extension. But we’re not doing this alone,’ Sian assured them.
‘What do you mean, not alone? The promised witch?’ Hunter asked quietly.
Remy smiled. ‘Her too. But she meant an acquaintance of mine. He’s an angel. He’s going to help us banish his brethren. He wants to go back home, too.’
The other witches frowned, scepticism etched deeply upon their faces.
‘He’s promised to help us. We need an angel feather for the potion to work. I can’t risk meeting him at my store, but someone will get it for us. Soon,’ Remy said. ‘Now, Sian, if you’ll return with me. I expect Hella will be at the store by now.’
Chapter Nineteen
Hella
Hella’s green eyes grew wide as she watched her entire family flip out in her kitchen. Both of her parents yelled. She had never seen her sleep-in, lazy younger brother so alarmed. Fearful. And angry.
‘Hella!’ her mother shouted. ‘You said Remy warned you not to—’
‘Young lady!’ Her chilled-out father stared, hands bizarrely on his hips in a confused sense of reprimand.
‘What the hell do you mean, a witch?’ Elliot frowned, as if he’d misheard. Something dark bubbled in his bottle-green eyes.
There were too many people yelling at once. Hella shook her head. ‘Okay, hold on. Please. No, mum—I’m sorry. Dad—wait. Elliot. One at a time!’ she finally yelled, matching the rest of the noise in the room. She threw her hands up, tired.
Everyone in the room froze in silence, eyes wide. Elliot’s mouth fell open. They all watched as Hella’s fingers danced with red-purple fire, sparks flying. Her hair flared purple.
‘Oh.’ She paused. ‘Someone needs to tell me how to put this out.’ She waved her hands, as if they would simply be doused like a match.
Her mum pushed through the others and took Hella carefully by the shoulders, avoiding her long braid in case the purple flames burned her. ‘It’s okay, honey. All you have to do is be calm.’ Her mother ran her hand soothingly along Hella’s back.
Elliot backed into the kitchen, then reappeared and dumped a glass of water on Hella’s still-lit hands. The water sizzled and evaporated. The flames grew. Elliot dropped the glass, panicked. He backed up until their father caught hold of him.
‘She’s still your sister, kid,’ their father said.
Elliot shook his head. ‘She’s not. She’s a freak.’
It was a chilling echo of her father’s word before. Freak.
‘Look at me, Hellora,’ her mum said firmly. ‘Be calm.’
Hella took a steadying breath, and the flames finally wavered. After a moment, they disappeared, as if reabsorbed into her skin.
Elliot blinked furiously at her. ‘Freak,’ he hissed. Then he looked at his mother suspiciously. ‘Are you like her?’
&
nbsp; Their mother nodded. ‘Yes, El, your sister and I are both witches. But we’re your family.’ She reached out for her son, who flinched away, then tore himself from their father and stomped upstairs without a backward glance.
For the first time in her memory, Hella was mad at her brother. Normally, El was too young and lazy to really be mad at. They never fought. Upstairs, his door slammed shut.
‘That’s the first time he’s ever done that,’ her mother noted.
‘I don’t think that’s him just being a teenager, Grace,’ her dad said.
‘I know,’ she said sadly. ‘We have to make sure he knows it’s still just us.’
Hella finally interjected. ‘What if he’s right about me, about us? What if we’re just freaks?’
‘Oh, Hella, no.’ Her mother hugged her tightly, encasing her in warmth.
‘That’s not true, kiddo,’ her father murmured, though he didn’t approach. ‘You’re special, Hells, that’s all.’ Hella felt a strange sense of betrayal at her brother’s reaction. She had never seen him look so angry, let alone at her.
‘I don’t want to go back to Remy’s.’ Hella groaned. ‘I feel like I need to sleep for a week.’
‘It’s the magic. It drains you,’ her mother said, leaning over the bar of the kitchen bench. She had made Hella a sandwich.
Hella nibbled on it gratefully, having skipped the lunch Remy had conjured, and James had devoured—she had been too confused and upset to eat. Now she was starving. ‘Well that sucks.’
‘One of the most fundamental rules of being a witch, Hella, is that all magic comes with a price. Nothing is free or easy.’
Hella frowned. ‘That sounds like taking the fun right out of it.’
‘Has it been fun so far?’ her father asked from the stool beside her.
She dropped her head. ‘It really hasn’t. I nearly killed James and Remy today. And now my brother hates me.’
‘But they’re both fine,’ her mother said.
‘And he doesn’t hate you,’ her dad added. ‘Sweetie, try to understand how you might feel. For us regular people, it’s a pretty shocking thing to process. And El stumbled upon it unprepared.’
Her mother nodded. ‘Your father’s right. Don’t worry, we’ll talk to your brother. I know you’re tired, but you do need to go to Remy’s. At least meet the leader of the coven. It’s important.’
‘Why can’t you come? You’re a witch.’ Hella folded her arms, exhausted. ‘And I thought Remy was the leader?’
‘She isn’t. Remy Stealthing is an old and powerful witch, Hella. She’s had many students, and she is much more suited to teaching you than I am. Besides’—she clicked her fingers, filling Hella’s cup with fresh coffee—‘you don’t listen to me half the time. I don’t think I could teach you properly.’ She smirked at her daughter.
‘I do too listen,’ Hella grumbled through her mouthful of bread and peanut butter.
‘Mmm-hmmm. How’s your homework?’
Hella pouted. ‘It’s fine.’
Her mum came over to hug her daughter again. ‘Honey,’ she said, ‘you forget. I’m a witch and a mum. I see everything.’
Hella frowned. ‘Well that’s just cheating.’ At that, her father chuckled.
Chapter Twenty
Meele
The swirling vortex spat Meele out onto the rough road. She tumbled awkwardly, grazing her arms and legs on impact. ‘Stupid portal,’ she spat. Such an unreliable magic. But much faster than flying on a plane. She pressed her fingers to the wound on her left arm she had cut open. Meele got up, brushing herself off. She looked around, then groaned.
‘Oh, come on.’ She looked up to find that indeed she was in Mill Valley, where she had aimed to be. However, she was on the wrong side of town, outside a notoriously seedy bar. And her duffel bag was hanging from the taller branches of a nearby tree, far out of reach. ‘Son of a—’
Chapter Twenty-One
Hella
It was dark by the time Hella gathered her strength to head to Remy’s. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon. Stars poured over the sky like scattered diamonds on a dark tablecloth. The full moon shone brightly. Hella grabbed a jacket and hugged her mum one last time on the doorstep, wishing she would come with her.
‘You’ll be fine, kiddo.’ Her mum kissed the top of her head, running a hand down her tangled hair. She quickly undid her daughter’s messy hair and started fixing it. Any other time, Hella would have squirmed away, but this time she stayed still, grateful. Her mum turned her daughter side to side in the porch’s lamp-light, nodding in approval. ‘It turned purple, when you used your magic. Did you know that?’ She touched her daughter’s braid, as if expecting to still feel the heat of the flames.
‘I did notice that.’
‘I’ve never seen that before. Not in a witch. It’s almost like a warlock shimmer,’ she said. ‘Well, off you go.’
Hella opened her mouth to ask what her mum was talking about, but decided she was too tired. She smiled and set off, pulling a light jacket over her shoulders. As she walked through the brisk night air, Hella could hardly keep her head from spinning. There was so much new information she was still processing. She was a witch. Her mum was a witch, and her dad knew. Her new boss was a witch. She’s the centre of a prophecy. Her brother was afraid of her.
Hella walked through Mill Valley Park, into the calm familiar area, where things used to be normal. She sat on one of the swings, catching her breath in a rare moment alone. She watched the moonlight filter through the leaves on the trees. She had stared at the light too long. When a light on her right began to shine brightly, Hella thought her eyes had been seared with the glow of moonlight.
But the light grew stronger until it hit the ground.
The effect was like a small meteorite, sending up a wide spray of dirt nearby. Sitting on the swing, Hella felt the chains tremble, clinking together. She watched as something emerged from the light a few metres away. Hella tripped up trying to stand, backing up as she saw a remarkably human-like man get to their feet and spread large white wings from his back. Hella stumbled back, kicking up dirt and tanbark. A golden halo shimmered above his head.
He took great strides toward her, closing the gap between them in seconds. The wings on his back blocked out the night sky as he stood over her. The gold from his halo bleached his face of colour. Except for his eyes. They were green and smouldering with true anger. It made Elliot’s anger pale in comparison.
With a rumbling growl, he spoke. ‘I can feel your magic, witch. I can see your aura. Purple, and strong.’
Hella could hardly breathe. She swallowed, nearly choking herself. ‘Who are you?’
The angel ignored her question. Instead, he reached up, plucked a feather from his wing and brought it down to meet Hella’s throat.
‘This might not look sharp, but I assure you it is.’ He flicked his hand, and Hella felt a gash open along her neck. Nothing too deep, just a warning. She gasped, feeling blood slide down her neck into her shirt. She held her breath, not daring to move or look away.
‘Consider this a warning, little witch. You will learn of Cambions. Do not aid them. Do not help other witches. Do not befriend or sympathise with warlocks or faeries. Stay away from the diseased and the undead.’ The razor-sharp feather came dangerously close to her eye. ‘Or I will find you again. And I will kill you.’
The angel’s lip pulled up in a flash of a smile, then he stuck the bladed, rigid feather into Hella’s leg. ‘That’s a reminder.’
She cried out. Tears welled in her eyes. Her vision blurred, she watched as the moonlight refracted off his halo, creating a starburst of light in the darkness. The angel backed up, letting the night sky darken the edges of her vision again, until he stood a few paces back. Then he seemed to be sucked up into the night sky, a flash of white light as his wings carried him away.
Alone again, Hella lay frozen with fear on the tanbark of the park, the
feather sticking grotesquely out of her leg as blood seeped through her jeans and poured onto the tanbark. Her heart racing faster than ever, Hella felt her muscles give way, and she collapsed.
Everything went dark.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hella
‘It’s been a long time since I carried her,’ a distant voice echoed somewhere above Hella’s head. Sound and vision swam together, forming a jumble of misplaced senses.
‘I know. She used to be so small. Oh, my little girl. Look at her throat, Finn. Her leg.’ A different voice, but both familiar.
‘Put her down over here, on the couch.’ Remy’s voice now, alongside her parents.
Hella could feel herself moving, being carried. She felt the gaping wound in her throat, the stickiness of the blood down her chest. As her father lay her on the couch, at what she thought must be Remy’s store, Hella’s eyes rolled open for a moment.
She saw the creased, worried faces of her mum and dad as they spoke to Remy, who looked worried too. There was a stranger standing by Remy’s side. A woman with long black hair. Hella’s eyes rolled shut again. She couldn’t keep them open. The stabbing pain in her leg would not abate. It spread up and down her body in staggering waves. The bizarrely sharp feather was still in her leg. It wasn’t all a dream? She had really been attacked by a very rude angel? Hella heard herself groan, then felt a cool hand on her forehead.
‘She’s getting warm. We have to take this out.’ Hella had never heard the voice before. It must’ve belonged to the woman who reminded her of a raven, all sleek darkness. Hella did feel very warm. She regretted putting the jacket on. ‘Hella, if you can hear me, my name is Sian. I’m the head of your coven. I’m going to help you.’ Her voice was firm but soft. Reassuring. Commanding.
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