Timeless

by Patti Roberts

  "Well done, little witch," D'Artagnan said, an impressed expression animating his face.

  Alexandria moved deeper into the room. "Is there anyone in here?" she whispered, pausing to listen for answers in the shadows. Nothing. "Hello. Are you in here? We are here to help you," she said, louder this time.

  D'Artagnan sheathed his sword. "I don't think we're in the right place. I don't think anyone is in here."

  Alexandria heard the clinking sound from earlier, and followed it into the shadows. "Is anyone in here?" she asked again, quickly brushing cobwebs out of her hair.

  D'Artagnan grabbed the burning torch on the wall, and walked over to Alexandria, the fiery glow of the torch blooming around them, and there, hanging like a shackled rag doll on the wall, was an unconscious girl who, Alexandria thought with a sudden sadness, looked to be only a year or two older than herself.

  "Help her," Alexandria shouted, rushing to the girl and hugging her around the waist, trying to share the burden of her weight.

  D'Artagnan shoved the burning torch into an empty sconce on the wall, then tried to pull the chains out of the wall. "I can't do it," he said after a moment. "I'm not strong enough."

  Alexandria struggled with the girl's dead weight. "Can't you cut through them with your sword or something?"

  He shook his head. "We need the key. That's the only way these manacles are coming off."

  The girl lifted her head a fraction, then let it fall against Alexandria's shoulder.

  "I can't hear you," Alexandria whispered. "Say it again."

  The girl's lips, cracked and swollen, moved again against Alexandria's ear.

  "Over there," Alexandria said, motioning with her elbow. "There is a key over there somewhere, hanging on the wall."

  D'Artagnan snatched the torch out of the holder, leaving the girls in darkness, then darted across to the opposite wall, his hands moving quickly over the stony surface, searching.

  "Hurry," Alexandria shouted. "We have to get her out of here. I don't think she can hang on much longer."

  D'Artagnan moved faster along the wall. A second later, something tore into his hand and he shone the torch on the wall. A large brass ring with a key hung on an old rusty nail jutting out of the wall. "I've got it," he said, lifting it off the nail and rushing back to Alexandria and the girl. He returned the torch to the sconce, then quickly unlocked the manacles at the girl's wrists and ankles, freeing her. "I've got her," he said, lifting the girl into his arms.

  "Okay," Alexandria said. "Now how the hell do we get out of here?"

  The white wolf stirred, alerted by a sound only he could hear coming from the woods. His ears pricking, he stood, listening and sniffing the air.

  "What can you hear?" Kat asked, watching the wolf bound across the clearing and into the tall trees bordering the Witchwood property. "What, no goodbye?" she said, as he disappeared into the darkness off the woods.

  "I should have known you'd be involved in this mess somehow," Nina said, her closed parasol swinging from her hand, the fair-haired runaway traipsing along after her like a lost puppy. "Sit," she ordered the man, poking him with her parasol. The man dropped obediently to the ground by her feet. She tapped him on the head unaffectionately. "Good boy. Stay." She hooked the parasol in the crook of her arm.

  Kat stood up, still clutching D'Artagnan's hat firmly against her chest. A trickle of blood ran down the fair-haired man's throat. Kat stared from the man back to Nina. "Did you," she waved a hand towards his throat, "feed on him?" she asked curiously.

  Nina scowled at her. "Don't be ridiculous."

  Kat nodded, somewhat relieved.

  "Now if he'd been Italian…" Nina said, glancing down at the man. "I do like Italian..."

  Kat stared at her open-mouthed, not sure if she could believe the vampire standing in front of her. "Then what happened to his throat?" she asked, uncertain about wanting an answer one-way or the other.

  "Injured running through the woods, I imagine. The smell of his blood is what attracted me to him in the first place. Of course, I knew he wasn't from around here the moment I saw him, which brings me back to my original question."

  "It was actually a statement."

  "What?" Nina said almost absently as she studied the newness of the brightly lighted gazebo beneath the old oak.

  Kat took a breath. "You didn't ask me a question, you made a statement."

  Nina shot her another warning glance.

  "I'm just saying," Kat murmured, shrugging and taking a step backward. She looked at the gazebo, hoping that Alexandria and D'Artagnan would return soon, but it remained motionless.

  "Where did you get that?" Nina demanded, motioning toward the pocket watch hanging around Kat's neck.

  Kat grasped it protectively in her hand. "It belongs to Alexandria. We opened the portal with it. The two of us. Then that perv came out," she said, pointing accusingly at the man seated on the grass. A dreamy look drifted over Kat's face when she thought about D'Artagnan and she smiled.

  Nina eyed Kat suspiciously. "So where's Alexandria now?"

  Kat let go of the pocket watch and pointed toward the gazebo. "In there," she said. "But don't worry, she'll be quite safe. D'Artagnan is with her…" she drifted off, imaging how it would feel to have his hands on her.

  "D'Artagnan? From the musketeers?" Nina asked. "How interesting."

  Kat nodded enthusiastically. "Do you know him?" she asked dreamily.

  "All the pretty girls know D'Artagnan."

  "Isn't he the most gorgeous being to ever walk the—"

  Nina rolled her eyes. "Yes, the most gorgeous thing … now snap out of it, stupid, and pull yourself together. Tell me, what else happened?"

  Kat let out a long sign, and continued. "She heard voices … Alexandria heard voices, I mean. I never heard a thing. Anyway, they went in there ... it was a portal then ... to save her. The girl, I mean. To save the girl from ... well, I'm not sure from what, exactly, but Alexandria said—"

  "Please stop blabbering," Nina said. "I need to think and I can't do that with you blabbering on like a lovesick schoolgirl."

  "But I am a school—"

  Nina shot her another steely glare.

  Kat nodded. "Yes. Right. It is probably best I just stop talking." The pocket watch around her neck began to whirl. "It does that sometimes," Kat explained.

  "Yes, I'm sure it does," Nina replied, walking back and forth for a moment, then said, "Give me your hand."

  "What?" Kat asked, screwing up her face.

  "Your hand. Give it to me."

  "Why?" Kat whined.

  Nina held out her hand. "You'll give me your hand if you want to see Alexandria again."

  "What are you going to do with it? My hand, I mean," Kat asked, imagining Nina lifting her palm to her lips, her fangs growing long and sharp, then biting into her flesh.

  "What about D'Artagnan? You want to see him again, don't you?"

  Kat shook the images of Nina drinking her blood from her thoughts, and grasped Nina's hand. "Of course I want to see him again. Both of them. What do I need to do?"

  "You can shut up, for a start."

  "Can do," Kat said, then snapped her mouth shut, squirming at the coldness of Nina's hand. D'Artagnan's hand would be warm and caressing, she mused, sighing inwardly.

  "For goodness’ sake, will you stop squirming, or would you like me to make you?" Nina hissed.

  Kat froze.

  The gazebo began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, until it began to shimmer brightly.

  The fair-haired man stood up silently behind Nina and Kat, then turned on his heel and ran back toward the forest.

  Kat spotted the running man out of the corner of her eye and spun around. "He's getting away."

  "Forget him," Nina spat, pulling Kat back around to face the whirling orb. "I'll worry about him later. Right now, Alexandria needs us to help get her back. Now concentrate."

  "And D'Artagnan," Kat added firmly.

  Chapter 14 –
Lavender, Speedwell & Rose.

  Kat pushed open the back door of Witchwood just as Mindy and Andrew were walking through the front door.

  "I'll just take these groceries," Andrew said, walking toward the kitchen.

  "Aunt Mindy?" Kat called. "Is that you? We need you. We have kind of an emergency in here."

  "There is always an emergency of some kind, dear Kat, when you are involved. What is it now? Have you broken the heel on your shoe?"

  "I'll go upstairs and find a clean sheet," Alexandria said, rushing past Andrew as he walked into the kitchen.

  He sidestepped her. "Hey, where's the fire?" he asked, turning to look at her, then did a quick double take as he saw a young man in a long-sleeved laced shirt with trousers tucked into knee-high boots, and carrying a dirty, unconscious girl in his arms. His eyes opened wider when he saw a sword swinging from the man's waist. "Jesus," Andrew said. "And I thought I had an interesting night."

  Mindy rushed into the kitchen, and Andrew sidestepped again. "I feel like a revolving door," he said, putting the groceries down on the counter, just as the old phone on the wall rang. He looked at it for a few seconds, wondering when the telephone line had been connected. "When it rains, it pours," he said, picking up the receiver out of the cradle and putting it against his ear. He turned and leaned against the bench, his eyes still on the stranger with the girl in his arms. Not a smart idea, he thought, turning your back on a man wielding a sword. The phone buzzed in his ear. "Hello?"

  "Good evening, dear. You must be Andrew. Alexandria has told us so much about you," a woman's singsong voice crackled down the line.

  "Um, yes, this is he. Andrew," he replied.

  "Well, dear, this is Mrs. Barnaby returning Alexandria's call from earlier today. I was wondering if I might be able to talk to her, if it isn't any bother."

  Andrew raised his arm, trying to attract Alexandria's attention as she rushed back into the room with a sheet in one hand and a pillow in the other, and failed.

  Mindy grabbed the sheet out of her hand and quickly spread it out on the kitchen table. "Here, put her down," she said to D'Artagnan.

  Alexandria lifted the girl's head and slid the pillow carefully under her head.

  Mindy examined the girl's wounds through her slashed garments. "Hot water, clean towel and a facecloth," she said, looking up at Kat. "Go," she said. "I also need you to light as many candles as you can find to keep away any negative spirits and bad energy. I'm sure you'll find a box of candles in the pantry."

  "Going," Kat said, bounding up the stairs two at a time.

  "I'll get the hot water," Alexandria said, fishing around in a cupboard for a large bowl, then filling it up with warm water from the kitchen sink.

  "Alexandria," Andrew said, hugging the receiver against his chest.

  "In a minute, Andrew," she replied, not looking up at him.

  "Add some lavender oil, speedwell and rose oil to the water," Mindy added.

  Alexandria searched through the shelf of colorful bottles in the cupboard, found the lavender oil and speedwell and added them to the water. "I can't find any rose oil," she said, placing the large bowl of scented water on the table next to the girl. Next, she went to the pantry, retrieved a large box with the word CANDLES engraved on its cedar lid. She opened it to find numerous candles of all sizes in a rainbow of colors. Some of the candles, she noticed, had tiny flowers embedded in them. She quickly placed them around the kitchen, lighting them as she went with a lighter she found in the box of candles. Within minutes, the room smelled like a forest and a thousand and one wildflowers.

  Mindy looked at Nina. Unspoken words passed between them. "Of course," Nina said, hanging her parasol on a hook near the back door and extracting a red rose from the vase on the kitchen windowsill. She held the bud of the rose in her palm and squeezed it above a small bowl, muttering an incantation in an ancient language no one else in the room could understand. Moments later, a crimson stream of rose oil drizzled into the bowl, filling the room with the scent of roses. She handed the bowl of rose oil to Mindy, without another word spoken.

  Kat ran back into the room with a white fluffy towel and a facecloth. She hung the towel over the back of a kitchen chair and handed the facecloth to Mindy.

  "Thank you," Mindy said, taking it, adding a few drops of the rose oil to the bowl of warm water. She submerged the facecloth in the steaming water, then wrung it out. With the scented facecloth, she bathed the wounds on the girl's face, arms and throat, then her wrists and ankles, where the poisoned manacles had rubbed her skin raw. "She looks like she's wearing some kind of uniform, like a waitress's uniform," Mindy said, examining the torn fabric of the girl's black skirt and white, button-up shirt. "It doesn't look like any uniform I've seen around here before, though."

  "Maybe it's a uniform from a private residence?" Kat offered. "The wait staff at home wear something similar when we have formal dinners."

  "That’s possible," Mindy murmured. "But whose?"

  Andrew waved his hand in the air, trying to attract Alexandria's attention for the umpteenth time, then gave up. He might as well have been invisible. He put the receiver back up to his ear. "You know what, Mrs. Barnaby, now isn't a very good time. Can I have her call you back when things calm down a little bit?"

  "Of course, dear boy. That would be perfectly fine. Goodbye, dear." Then the phone went completely dead in his ear. He looked at it, jiggled the cradle up and down and held it back up to his ear. Nothing. The line was completely dead. He shrugged, chalking it up as one of the many quirks of the Witchwood house, then placed the receiver back in its cradle.

  The girl on the table murmured, her eyelids fluttered, then shot open. Wide eyed and breathing hard, she looked from one face to another, until her gaze found and rested on Alexandria.

  Alexandria stared back at her. "It's okay. You're okay. You're safe now." She rested her hand reassuringly on the girls arm, and she flinched. "I'm sorry," Alexandria said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

  The girl's breath began to slow, and she nodded. She raised her hand, resting her fingers on her lips.

  "You're thirsty? Alexandria asked. "Do you want water?"

  The girl nodded again, her eyes not leaving Alexandria.

  "I'll get water," Kat said, letting go of D'Artagnan's arm and fetching a glass of water.

  Mindy slid her hand under the pillow and lifted the girl's head while Alexandria held the glass to her lips. The girl drank thirstily until the glass was empty.

  "More?" Alexandria asked.

  The girl shook her head weakly, and closed her eyes as Mindy lowered the pillow.

  "Can you tell us your name, dear?" Mindy asked softly, gently patting the girl's forehead with the damp cloth.

  The girl opened her eyes slowly, as though performing this simple task required all of her strength, which in fact, it did. The poison from the bloodthorn flower was indeed doing its intended job – killing her.

  "Matilda," she said in a choked whisper. "My name is Matilda Hemsworth. She, she called me a witch, but I don't know what she was talking about." She was silent for a long moment, summoning up the strength to survive as tears began to run down her cheeks. She opened her eyes again, looking back up at Alexandria, who was now also crying. "Thank you for coming for me," she said to Alexandria in a barely audible voice, before closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep.

  "Who called you a witch?" Alexandria asked, but it was too late. Matilda had already lapsed into unconsciousness. "There has to be something we can do for her." Alexandria said, her voice pleading. "She went through all that pointless pain and suffering for nothing. She didn't even know what she was."

  Mindy shook her head. "The poison from the bloodthorn flower is very potent, and once it's in the bloodstream…" Mindy's voice trailed off. There was nothing left to say that would make any difference.

  Alexandria clenched her fists. "We're witches, damn it. Powerful witches, I thought. Surely there is something we can do?” Fiercely,
she brushed away tears with the back of her hand. The flames on the candles grew taller, their fiery tongues licking the air. Mindy put a hand on Alexandria's arm, and one by one, the flames subsided.

  "We don't have enough power yet to actually use the Saken Circle to save her. The circle has been activated, yes, but without the chosen witches stipulated in your mother's journal, it's pretty much useless. Whoever did this to Matilda knows that, and by killing her, and others like her, they are making sure we never do. They may not know which particular witches are the chosen ones, so my guess is they're going to keep killing witches until they eventually kill the right ones. Matilda was collateral damage."

  "Which clan is she from, do you think?" Nina asked, walking around to the other side of the table. "I can't see any visible symbols on her to indicate which clan she belongs to. She was obviously telling the truth when she said she didn't know she was a witch."

  Alexandria shot around, hearing the sound of Nina's voice. "You're a vampire ... can't you heal her with your blood or something?"

  "It doesn't work like that, not with the length of time and the amount of poison she has in her body."

  "Why not?" Alexandria asked angrily.

  "Because she is more dead than alive, that's why," Nina snapped in a voice far angrier than she intended.

  "What difference does that make now? What is there left to lose? Shouldn't we just be trying to do something? Anything, to try and save her?"

  "If I gave her my blood, now, yes, she would live. That is true, but she would be in so much pain for the rest of her life from the poison in her body, that she'd wish we had let her die. I'm so sorry, Alexandria, but I've seen this before. There is nothing I can do for her. If there was a way, I would do it. All we can do now is find out which clan she originates from, so we can return her to her fold.

  Mindy placed two fingers on the unconscious girl's right wrist, as though she were searching for a pulse. She whispered a visibility incantation to reveal the mark of the clan to which the girl belonged. After a few moments, beneath Mindy's fingers, a small, black shape like a tattoo began to materialize on the girl's wrist. Everyone leaned in, peering over Matilda. The black mark twisted into the shape of a circle with a small tree in the center. Mindy removed her fingers. "The Rivenfell Clan," she said.