Eliza's Shadow

by Catherine Wittmack

  I climbed into the car when Ren opened the door and stared blankly out the windshield. The car wound around the drive and down a small gravel road before we emerged onto the paved street I’d taken to get to the house. The drive was a short one and we were parked in front of my building before either of us attempted conversation. The car idled allowing heat to blow around the cab, which had just finally begun to feel comfortable.

  “Are you alright Eliza?” Ren asked hesitantly, “I can’t let you go up there alone if you aren’t.”

  I turned to Ren. The edges of his mouth creased with concern and his eyes searched my face, conscientiously inspecting my state. He was so careful, I thought, and smiled appreciatively.

  “I feel much better now that I’m home.” I mumbled.

  I stared at my fingers twisting in my lap. Ren’s hand fell over them halting their nervous fidgeting. I lifted my gaze again to meet his. He peered unabashedly into my eyes and held them captive.

  “It’s just that…well, one problem solved and one to go. You know what I mean?” I asked softly. “I’m grateful for Nan’s spell and I’ll sleep easier tonight knowing that the Shadow can’t touch me. But the last thing I’ll think about when I close my eyes is that Benjamin will be spending another night in that stone cell and I still have no idea how to solve the riddle of my first lesson.” I sighed in defeat.

  Ren turned his head to stare out the windshield and let a puff of air escape his lips.

  “I wish I could be more help to you.” He said with a sigh. Then squinted his eyes thoughtfully and added, “When it comes to the primer assume that absolutely nothing has been placed in your path by chance. Clues to mastering the lesson are everywhere.” He said turning back to meet my gaze with such clarity and intensity it made me blush.

  I nodded slowly in assent, my eyes locked on his. Ren gave my tangled fingers a firm squeeze with the hand blanketing them.

  “I’ll walk you in.” He said and dashed around to my side of the car and yanked the door open.

  I fumbled with my seatbelt and scrambled out of the car ungracefully. As I shuffled toward the door of my building I realized just how drained I was from the evenings events. In fact, exhausted would be a more appropriate word for my state.

  Ren tucked his arm below mine and grasped my wrist supporting some of my weight as we climbed the stairs to my door. When we reached the door, I was grateful to see darkness beneath the threshold. Jane was still a work.

  Ren released my arm allowing me to probe around the depths of my bag for the key.

  “Thanks for walking me up, Ren. See you tomorrow ok?” I said sleepily, while opening the door.

  “See you, Eliza.” He said slowly as his eyes swept the main room of my apartment. It seemed he wasn’t entirely comfortable leaving me alone.

  “Ren, really I’m ok, just super tired. Jane will be home soon, you don’t need to worry, ok?” I assured him.

  He tilted his head and gave me a tired smile.

  “Alright then.” He said hesitating. His hand glided down the length of my arm and brushed my fingertips. A spark glowed in his eyes, drawing me to him. My heart fluttered unexpectedly. And for a moment, I felt something wild and rebellious happening between us like we were standing at the edge of a cliff about to jump.

  Then as quickly as the moment arose it passed. Ren flushed and pulled away, moving toward the stairs.

  “Goodnight.” I said awkwardly.

  He glanced back and smiled, resigned. “Goodnight.” Then turned away and bounded down the stairs.

  I slipped inside my apartment and shut the door before he even exited the building. As I crossed the main room flipping on lights along the way, I heard the subtle roar of his car engine come to life on the street below then fade into the distance as he drove away. I inhaled the warm air laced with all the familiar scents of home and sighed calming my racing heart. Forget it, Eliza. I reminded myself sternly. Then padded into the kitchen pulling out tea, milk and sugar and set the teapot to boil on the stove.

  Despite my physical exhaustion, my mind was restless. With the burden of the Shadow lifted, my thoughts shifted to the lesson from my primer. Anxiety about Benjamin’s wellbeing gnawed at the edges of my mind.

  I wondered if my exhaustion was a side effect of the spell or if it really had just been that long of a day. I wriggled lazily out of my clothes and pulled on a pair of loose pajama pants and a t-shirt before climbing under the fluffy down comforter.

  I fell heavily back onto the pillows, relishing the comfort surrounding me and my eyes wandered to the old leather primer resting on the top of my dresser across the room.

  It didn’t take long for my inner sleuth to begin rummaging through the uncomfortable details of the scenario the primer had presented to me. I rested my head against the headboard and closed my eyes to better focus on the pictures in my mind. Ren had advised me to look at everything as a clue and that is what I needed to do now. Safe in my bed, away from the fear of the torture chamber, I needed to review the scenario objectively and try to understand just what it all had to do with manipulating minds, namely the mind of my captor.

  As I sank deeper into the process of remembering, I had to bat away the flutter of panic the images evoked. I tallied the facts. At the time I started the lesson, I had already executed mind manipulation on Jane, and the primer knew that. Exactly what I learned from the experience with Jane was information I was expected to use.

  I had learned one thing. I learned that in order for mind manipulation to work, the first step was gripping the subject’s attention. My thoughts turned to the mind-bending maneuver with Bryn.

  Then it occurred to me. Gripping the subject’s attention was not the first step. My heart rate sped at the realization. The catalyst to sparking the magic behind mind manipulation was something I had not really understood until I’d worked on Bryn.

  Emotion.

  Like a camera lens coming into focus, it was all suddenly clear. The key to mind manipulation was not just getting the person’s attention. The person had to become emotionally involved with me. It was the person’s emotion that opened their mind and made them vulnerable to my will.

  When I bent Jane’s mind, she was upset with me because of my behavior with Ren. When I manipulated Bryn, she was worried about me because she thought Ren had abused me.

  I rehearsed the instruction from the primer. It’s meaning a whisper in my ear.

  what lies Behind the eyes commands the hands, the Heart guards the key, an unwise tongue may be silenced forever

  If I wanted to force my wicked captor to do my bidding, I needed to capture his heart. His heart held the key to his mind, his actions, and my freedom. Yet, I needed to choose the words I used to stir his emotions carefully. The wrong words could spur disaster.

  I jolted up in bed, suddenly energized by a burst of excitement that spread through my body like a sunburst. I forgot about being tired and actually suppressed a spontaneous urge to run over to the dresser and throw open the primer.

  Solving the riddle was at once exciting and unnerving. But I reminded myself that it was one thing to know how to ride a bike but entirely different to actually ride one. The two measly times I’d successfully executed mind manipulation, my subjects were the closest people to me. It hadn’t been difficult to evoke emotion in Jane or Bryn to make the magic happen. But how on earth was I supposed to make that awful man, the person who was hell bent on torturing me, feel anything for me?

  A shiver ran down my spine at the realization that there was one emotion that might be my only answer… Anger. But making my torturer angry sounded like a stupid idea, even if it did work. If he was angry and I didn’t capture his mind quickly enough, I could be dead before I even got started.

  Besides, the instructions I hoped to give him were a little complicated. I wanted to persuade him not only to allow me to escape but to release little Benjamin as well. That would require an extra step, more time and increased risk. Confounded and overwhelme
d, I brought my hands to my face and massaged my temples gently with my fingertips.

  So now I had an idea of how to win the game but how I would pull it all off could be the difference between life and death and not just for me but Benjamin too. True exhaustion, mental, physical blurry-eyed exhaustion overcame me then. Glancing at the clock, I noticed that it was nearly eleven o’clock and Jane would be walking through the front door any minute. With a tinge of guilt, I decided it best to call it a day. With all that I had on my mind, I didn’t want to risk conversation with Jane. She would certainly suspect something and I was in no condition to come up with a cover story.

  I flopped back onto my pillow and rolled around restlessly until I found a comfortable position. It had been three days since I left the lesson. As I reached for the cord of the hanging lantern above my nightstand, an image of little Benjamin sleeping on the dirty stone floor of his cell came to mind.

  My jaw clenched, I made up my mind. Come hell or high water, at the end of the school day, I would return to the primer. Then I turned off the light.

  14

  It was cold and I shivered. With eyelids still heavily shut against tired eyes my sleepy brain nudged my arms to find my blanket. My muscles flexed and fell, flexed and fell unable to rouse my hands. The lack of response set off an alarm deep in my sub-conscience. Like swimming to the surface of a dark lake, the shroud of sleep slipped away and I found myself bound. My eyelids fluttered in the dim light and I frantically scanned my surroundings.

  A strangled shriek escaped my lips. My mind raced trying to make sense of my situation. I was certain that I’d fallen asleep in my bed with the primer safely stashed across the room on top of my dresser. Yet, I found myself tied limb by limb to a wooden chair in the torture chamber. Worse yet, my feet dangled inches from the black water of a well. My heart pounded violently in my chest and I sucked in gasping breaths.

  In my state of panic, I slithered furiously from side to side struggling against the ropes that secured my wrists and ankles to the chair. The chair swayed and dropped an inch. My stomach rose to my throat with the fall. The tips of my toes dipped into the cold dark pool beneath me and I froze, hoping the ropes would hold. The chair continued to rock gently from side to side and the ropes creaked above my head. My breath escaped haltingly as I struggled to gain control of myself.

  I scanned the room to discover it was empty besides me and a few rats huddled in the corners. The torches flickered wildly against the walls tossing unsettling light into the room. I clenched my eyes shut hoping that it was all a dream but the dank cold air drifting up from the well beneath my feet and the searing rope burns I’d just inflicted upon myself refused to disappear. Frustration and rage squeezed my chest and a fierce surge of adrenaline shot through my system. This was ridiculous, how could the primer do this to me? ‘I’m not ready!’ I wanted to scream, not that it mattered obviously.

  Before I could lament further on the incredibly inopportune timing of the lesson, I heard the distant thud of heavy footsteps in the stairwell. My heart flooded with panic but I forced myself to recount my revelation about the mind manipulation process. Emotion, concentration, command. Emotion, concentration, command. Emotion, concentration, command. I reminded myself as the footsteps grew louder and the shadow of a person stretched out on the wall opposite the stairs.

  He emerged, the stinking, filthy guard, my captor, the one I had to enchant to save my life. As he entered the room, he gazed at me briefly before casting his eyes to the ground with a snort. There was certainly a sense of recognition in his response but not surprise. I braced myself for attack.

  As he neared, I shivered at the idea of angering him. He seemed to be so full of anger as it was I was truly concerned about where it might lead. There had to be another way, something that I hadn’t thought of yet.

  The lurking form of my captor lumbered across the crude stone floor and I stared at his unkempt appearance. Dirty tattered clothing, stringy filthy hair, rotting teeth, as if he’d never been cared for. I thought of Ren’s advice, that everything in the scenario was a clue.

  I fought through my fear and studied my captor with the few moments I had left before he crossed the distance between us. The man approaching me looked like a person who had never been taught to care for himself. Maybe someone who had never had a mother to wash his clothes, bath him, feed him and now as an adult he didn’t know how to do those basic things for himself.

  I thought of little Benjamin, vulnerable, unkempt, and hungry. Then the clouds in my brain parted revealing an obvious clue. I felt silly that it hadn’t occurred to me before. Benjamin himself was the key to both of our freedom! My captor was a projection of what Benjamin would become if not saved. More importantly, my captor, years ago, had been just like Benjamin.

  I found my voice. “She didn’t mean to leave you.” I said loudly, in a quivering voice.

  The slow moving man’s head shot up and he glared at me cutting through the distance between us. My words had certainly stirred his heart but what they were unleashing looked incredibly dangerous. I swallowed hard, unsure of whether I should proceed with my plan.

  “Your mother. She didn’t mean to abandon you. That’s what happened to you, isn’t it? She was brought here, a prisoner, a witch, and then you were kept here too.” I stammered watching his twisted face for a sign that I was on the right track.

  He stared at me intensely, his narrow eyes flared bitterly. His gaze still locked on mine, he plodded to the edge of the well. Before I could concentrate enough to begin the mind manipulation procedure, I heard an ominous, whoosh, from somewhere high above me.

  The chair plunged downward, cracking the surface of the frigid water beneath. It floated just long enough for me to suck in a deep breath before sinking into the darkness. It happened so quickly that I barely registered those seconds before going under until it was over and I felt myself descending gently into the depths of the well. The cold blackness surrounding me extinguished the fire of emotion I should have felt at learning my life was about to end. It was quiet and peaceful. The coldness seeped beyond my skin penetrating my bones, numbing everything. So I’d gambled and lost, I thought dazedly.

  Then my lungs began to burn and once the burning started it escalated exponentially with every second that passed. Just as I began to think I could not bear the burning any longer, the water pushed hard against my shoulders and pulled my legs tight against the seat of the chair. I wasn’t sure at first if what I felt was air on my face but it didn’t matter because I couldn’t stand the heat in my chest a moment longer, I spat and coughed and sucked in whatever was available.

  My ears were ringing and my vision dark but I felt the air moving in and out of my chest, filling my lungs like balloons and then rushing out again. Beyond the ringing, I heard his voice, shouting through the din.

  “What do you know about my mother? What do you know? What do you know, witch?” The man demanded.

  The oxygen coursing through my bloodstream sharpened my senses and I detected desperation in the man’s voice. I had been right in baiting him and needed to act quickly. My eyes opened and I squinted at his face. At first my vision was blurry but once it cleared, I discovered that his expression was one of pain. Concentrate. I told myself.

  I locked eyes with my captor and muttered softly. “I’m sure your mother loved you.”

  Then I began the mind-manipulation procedure with intense concentration. Set the boy and me free. Set the boy and me free. Set the boy and me free. I instructed my captor fervently.

  Miraculously, his eyes dilated wide and black and the pain wrenching his features slipped away leaving a placid expression. I continued the chant long after I’d observed the physical sign of enchantment for fear I could lose hold of him. Finally, after a few moments of staring at his blank frozen expression, I decided to rouse him and hoped that my instructions would be followed. With shallow breath, I spoke to him, my voice cracked with uncertainty.

  “Come back, now
. Come back.”

  At once, his eyes snapped shut and reopened without showing any outward sign of enchantment. I held my breath, still vulnerable and bound, waiting for his response. Without a word he reached for the chair. The rope pulley securing the chair over the well creaked in protest as he pulled the chair away from the well and settled it onto the stone floor. I exhaled with relief but held my tongue.

  The man proceeded to fumble with grubby fingers at the wet ropes tightly wound around my wrists and ankles. It seemed to take an eternity but he finally managed to weaken the knots and release my limbs. Once I was free, I hesitated to stand, unsure of how my behavior would affect the man’s actions. Without waiting for me to move, he scanned my freed limbs, then turned and plodded across the room toward the stairwell that led to the exit.

  I hoped that he was heading toward Benjamin’s cell and carefully rose to my feet to follow him. I remained several steps behind him, just out of arms reach, as I followed him down the stairs and through the narrow hallway lined with cell doors. He slowed and finally stopped before one of the doors. He fumbled with a ring of keys before sliding one into the lock and releasing the thick bolt across the door. It swung open. I stood behind him, hesitant to step into the cell and was immensely relieved when he emerged gripping little Benjamin’s arm, half dragging the small boy behind him.

  When Benjamin’s eyes lit upon mine they sparked with recognition.

  “Eliza! You came back!” He spouted enthusiastically.

  I smiled and with a suspicious glance at our captor brought a finger to my lips. Benjamin nodded in understanding and pursed his lips.

  The man turned away from us, stomping methodically down the hall in the opposite direction. In that moment, I was torn. I had told him to release us but did that include showing us the door to the prison or was it possible that if we followed him further we might find ourselves in trouble again? I glanced frantically down the hall in both directions. There was no way of knowing what other challenges lurked in the prison’s depths. Finally deciding to trust my magic, I grasped Benjamin’s small hand and charged down the hall after our captor with Benjamin in tow.