Spellbound Chronicles – Blood Line

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Spellbound Chronicles – Blood Line Page 2

by Suzanne Maguire


  Ten minutes later they turned right onto familiar territory and into their comfort zone. The sight of their grandmother’s quirky white cottage always perked Larna up and today was no exception. There was something mystical about the old building. Larna always felt like it was trapped in a time warp and she loved it. The drive was lined with ancient oaks, like sentries forming a guard of honour, with a sea of bluebells between each one.

  Without warning, a strong wind blew, coming at them from both left and right, rocking the car from side to side. Then, just as suddenly, it changed tack as if it couldn’t make up its mind. As Larna strained to see the sky from the safety of her seat, she noticed that the bluebells were bowed towards her, all in the one direction, and yet the wind was still swirling erratically through everything else around. This was also weird, but she quickly forgot about it. They had arrived at their grandmother’s. Larna hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed the old place. Nothing had changed since their last visit and she felt a little splurge of excitement, but at the same time had a strange feeling that something was different – slightly off-kilter.

  Their grandmother – known in the family as Yaya – must have heard the tyres on the gravel as they approached. She came rushing out waving frantically, clearly as excited as they were. The car hadn’t even fully stopped when Aron and Larna jumped out in their enthusiasm to be the first to receive one of her massive hugs. They weren’t disappointed. Apart from her long blonde hair and blue eyes like her daughter, Neve was a bit of a mystery. To friends and family she was loving, kind, protective and full of fun. She encouraged her grandchildren’s adventurous spirit (as she always called it). But to others, she appeared a bit standoffish and reclusive. Even ‘regal’ had been whispered once or twice by those who were totally in awe of her.

  Yaya Neve drew Larna and Aron either side of her and gave them another quick squeeze whilst winking at their mum. “Missed both of you. Far too quiet when you’re not here to run me ragged.”

  Aron squirmed when she mussed his hair. She gave her grandson a playful push and said, “Aha! Too old for that now, I expect. Go on then, get your things out of the car. I presume you’re staying.”

  The two of them were chuffed to be back, even though Aron tried not to show it. They hoicked their backpacks out of the boot and banged it shut. Aron beat Larna to Neve this time and, with an arm round both of them, she led them into the cottage. Ten minutes later, Elizabeth was pouring tea into two white china mugs and handing one to her mother. “It’s good of you to have these two, I really appreciate it. They’ve promised to behave like mature adults and get on together.”

  “Is that so?” Neve chuckled.

  Aron gave her one of his looks, “Aw, now you’ve taken all the fun out of it.”

  While they were drinking and chatting, Larna noticed how similar the two women’s mannerisms were. They were obviously very close, especially since Pompa Douglas (grandpa) died just before Aron was born. A feeling of sadness swept over her as she realised Yaya Neve had been alone all those years, although she was certain she’d heard her grandmother talking to him from time to time. Worryingly she’d also thought she’d heard him reply. Larna pulled out of her daydream in time to hear her mum finish the story of their detour in the woods.

  “I’ve never experienced anything like it. It was just in that area as if somebody was deliberately putting obstacles in our way. If it weren’t for Clem… oh, he gave me a message for you.” She paused, wrinkling her brow. “He said it was very urgent and to be sure I repeat it verbatim – when you’re on your own.” She gave Larna and Aron a meaningful look.

  After a significant pause, without taking her eyes off her daughter, Neve said, “Take your things upstairs, you two, and settle in. You’ll soon find your rooms.”

  As Larna bent to pick up her backpack from where she’d dropped it in the hall, she noticed something strange through the open door. An unusually large black crow stood on the front step studying her. But once eye contact had been made, it upped and flew to the rear of the cottage where the garden met the woods. With nobody else around to notice, her thoughts returned to her grandmother and the message her mum had for her. Aron had already gone upstairs, so Larna tiptoed past the kitchen door, trying not to disturb the grown-ups, but she overheard her mum say, “… that’s exactly what he said, word for word – that it can’t wait any longer. What did he mean?”

  “Nothing! Just the ramblings of an old man, dear. I expect he’ll have forgotten it by tomorrow.”

  “But he was so worried.” She gave a little laugh. “A bit melodramatic mind you – shades of Up Pompeii and ‘Beware the Ides of March.’ ” She made a slight noise. “I shouldn’t laugh. He sounded so sincere.”

  “No, dear, we shouldn’t laugh, he… ”

  Larna crept up the stairs, keeping to one side in case they creaked. They’d been designated two smaller bedrooms in a part of the cottage she didn’t even know existed. Each had the appropriate name on the door. Larna was relieved. At long last she had a room of her own to crash out in. Throwing the heavy backpack onto the bed, she stood and had a quick look round. It was a light and airy room with things painted on the walls, and a great view of the forest from her window. In fact all the rooms had awesome views. She crossed the landing to Aron’s room. The walls here were painted from floor to ceiling with murals of Sherwood – a cross between medieval and futuristic themes. The window wall boasted an eye-catchingly realistic scene depicting people huddled round a roaring campfire trying to keep warm on a cold night. Everyone seated was wrapped in what looked like old blankets, while those moving towards the fire had their outer clothes pulled tightly round their bodies.

  Flinging herself onto Aron’s bed, Larna put her hands behind her head and looked up at the ceiling, “Wow!” she exclaimed. It was painted as a night sky, full of brightly shining stars. She darted to the window and shut the curtains before lying back on the bed to lose herself in the awesome indoor sky. With the curtains pulled together, the huge bonfire scene was complete. Draught from the old window frame moved the curtains, making the flames look so realistic, Larna truly believed she could feel the heat radiating from them. Without thinking she held out her hands to the fire for warmth, then remonstrated with herself. “Don’t be stupid, that’s impossible!” she chuckled under her breath.

  After putting his few clothes away, Aron decided to join his sister on the bed, top-and-tail fashion.

  “What’s your room like?”

  “A bit like this, only I don’t think it has as many fancy paintings as yours. I’m going to have another look and unpack. Coming?” Larna swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  “No, I think I’ll lie here for a bit.” He gave Larna a little push with his feet.

  Re-crossing the landing, Larna stopped and listened. Her mum and grandmother were still talking, but not loud enough for her to hear what they were saying. Continuing on into her room, she quietly shut the door. Looking again, she saw her wall paintings were actually totally different from her brother’s. She inspected them closer and concluded that they looked like creations from another world. Animals, but with a human presence. What a fantastic imagination the artist must have had to paint a scene like this, she thought. There were trees, but none resembling those on Aron’s walls. In fact, on reflection, Larna thought her brother’s bedroom had a much darker theme than hers.

  Examining the room further, her gaze was drawn to the right hand wall and to a quaint old cottage with blue-grey smoke curling from an unusual spiral chimney. In front of it, and what grabbed her attention, was a larger-than-life wizard, complete with long robe and a tall hat, but with no magic wand in his hand. Moving away to inspect the other two walls, she felt a slight tug and a feather-light tap on her back which made her jump and turn round. Nobody else was in the room. Fixing her gaze on the wizard eyeball-to-eyeball, she found herself asking if he could’ve just touched her. Then she sat down on the bed and said out loud, “What am I doin
g? I’m talking to a brick wall!”

  There were no paintings on the wall at the foot of the bed. Instead, it had a wash of calming green, as if the artist had run out of ideas and put down his brushes, never to return. Putting her clothes away, Larna couldn’t shake off the feeling she wasn’t alone; she was sure she could feel the wizard’s eyes trailing her every move. She put it down to a trick of the light. There’s always a straight answer to everything, she told herself, although she wasn’t entirely convinced. The spell was immediately broken when their grandmother called upstairs that their mum was ready to leave and they’d better make haste if they wanted to say goodbye.

  Elizabeth and Yaya were in the garden finishing their tea. It wasn’t a particularly large garden, but it was Neves pride and joy. She’d often said that the perfume from her early border roses filled the air and just a few deep breaths made her want to slow down and enjoy her surroundings. At the bottom of the garden a rickety old gate painted glossy green marked the boundary. Their grandmother had told them that in the dead of night, when the moon was full, the gate would glow and act as a beacon showing Yaya the way home. What a load of rubbish, Larna thought. It had never occurred to her to ask what their grandmother was doing in the woods at midnight… alone.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The woods had always had an eerie fascination for Larna and her brother. Some of the trees were so old she often amused herself with thoughts of the stories and dark tales they could tell if they could talk. And paths leading to places who knows where. Being strictly forbidden, these were an almost irresistible temptation.

  As the children were growing up, a strict embargo was put on going through the gate. No amount of pleading would change their grandmother’s mind, even when they promised on their pet hamster Snowy’s life not to go very far. They never found out why. And they didn’t disobey. Years ago Larna had frightened the life out of Aron with horror stories about what would happen if they didn’t do as they were told and somehow she’d begun to believe them herself.

  Taking a final sip of tea, their mum looked up and, in her serious voice that she saved for important family announcements, said, “I know your father feels you are more responsible now and has lent you his GPS. So I’ve decided I’m going to give my permission for you to explore the woods surrounding the cottage. With one proviso – on no account must you separate or lose sight of one another. Okay? But Yaya has the final say.”

  Larna and Aron turned to Neve with bated breath. Biting her bottom lip, she looked worried about something, hesitating before replying in their favour. They nearly dropped from shock. Finding their voices, they couldn’t thank either of them enough, repeating themselves so many times that their mum reached up and put her hands over their mouths to shut them up. Then she looked at her watch and gasped.

  “Time always seems to fly when I’m here.” She stood up and smoothed her dress, then opened her arms for a final hug. Larna gave her a squeeze and stepped sideways to give Aron a turn. Aron hung back as usual. In the end he mumbled something about missing her.

  “Love you,” Larna said.

  “Ditto,” replied Mum.

  And from Aron, a simple, “Me too!”

  She picked up her keys and they followed her to the car. “Remember your promise, Aron, not to annoy your sister.”

  “So long as she doesn’t annoy me!”

  “As if I would! I’m the grown-up one, remember?”

  “Yeah, right. With a teddy bear on your bed at home… ”

  “That’s enough!” scolded Mum She turned to Aron. “No trouble, okay?”

  “Okay?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

  “I promise!” he said, looking her straight in the eye.

  After giving Neve a final hug their mum got into the car, lowered the window and gave Larna a knowing wink. She nodded. Their secret code for “look after your brother.” As she pulled away, she stuck her arm out of the car and waved all the way down the tree lined drive. They all watched until she turned right and vanished from sight.

  * * *

  Neve and Aron took the path round the cottage to the back door. Larna watched them go, listening to her brother grumbling about his empty stomach. “I’m starving. What’ve you got, Yaya?”

  “Didn’t take long for you to start thinking about food,” came the faint reply.

  Larna went in the front door. Pausing on the step for a few minutes in the gathering gloom, she wondered how far they’d be allowed to explore in the morning. Her brain began to work overtime and a tingle of excitement took hold, as she planned the cache hunt. Suddenly she was distracted by a peculiar whooshing sound. She looked up too quickly and her head began to swim. Coming straight towards her was that same black menacing ‘thing’ from her nightmares. She dropped to the floor in a half-curl, covered her head with her arms, held her breath and waited. Whatever it was had found her again. This time, though, she wasn’t dreaming. What on earth was happening here?

  Silence. Cautiously she raised her head. The shape was nowhere to be seen and, although shaken, to her amazement she was totally unharmed. She breathed a huge sigh of relief. But what to do next? Should she tell Yaya? Would she even believe her? Mum would only think she was making it up to scare Aron. The thoughts raced through Larna’s head. She decided just to keep it to herself for now.

  On shaky legs and not wishing to be alone any longer, she hurried to find the others. Her stomach growled loudly and she didn’t need a list of clues to follow the savoury smells through the front hall and on into the kitchen. When her plate was placed in front of her, she discovered that her appetite had vanished. Along with the spectre.

  Time seemed to fly after dinner. Banished to the sitting room, Larna and Aron watched television until boredom set in, then flipped through a couple of books Neve had left out. The earthy smell from the fire in the ingle-nook made them drowsy and before they knew it, their eyes became heavy and they dozed. Then the old grandfather clock boomed ten, shattering the silence and waking them up. After the day she’d had Larna couldn’t believe she’d managed to even grab a light doze.

  Neve was sitting in her chair gazing out of the window, her brow furrowed, deep in thought. “You two have missed a glorious sunset. I hope it bodes well for tomorrow.” She turned and gave them a worried smile. “I have a funny feeling about this particular holiday.” Raising her face, she sniffed. “There’s something different in the air tonight.” Then she shook her head. “Enough of my meandering. Time for bed. Lights out in fifteen and no talking. My bedroom is close and I have big ears.”

  The young guests headed upstairs and separated on the landing, too tired to say anything but, “Night.” As usual Aron grunted and closed his bedroom door. He never needed rocking and would no doubt be asleep before his head hit the pillow. Normally Larna was not far behind him, but tonight was different, no doubt because of her earlier encounter. She still couldn’t get her head round it. There must be a logical explanation.

  For her own sanity she decided to push it out of her mind, well at least as far to the back as it would go, and then she focussed her thoughts on what they would find beyond the gate. She snuggled further down the welcoming bed. The book she had brought still lay unopened on the bedside cabinet. Turning off the lamp, she pulled the old fashioned quilt up and nestled it under her chin. She lay looking up at the ceiling. The blue sky and puffy clouds that had adorned her ceiling in the daylight had been replaced with shimmering stars like Aron’s. They were mesmerising, and as she gazed she could feel herself being slowly drawn into a much-needed slumber. The room began to fade as she felt herself drifting… drifting…

  Her dreams made no sense at first, flitting erratically from one scene to another, but eventually her mind cleared and out of the fog came a new vision. A different time. She wasn’t sure how she got there. She vaguely remembered searching for the cache with her dad’s clues. She began to explore. The trees around her seemed familiar. She paused. Stood very still and
looked around. Then it hit her. These trees were identical to the ones painted on her bedroom walls. But where was she? The ground was covered with fallen leaves. She picked one up. It was a bizarre shade of purple with a sweet smell that reminded her of watermelons. Letting the leaf drift back to the ground, she continued her journey.

  Lost in thought and wonder, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Without thinking, she brushed it off. A much harder tap took her by surprise and she jumped round. She found herself face-to-face with the boy from her dreams. He stood motionless in front of her and Larna studied him. He was unlike anyone she’d ever seen before. His nose was black and shiny and, poking through his long hair, were what appeared to be the tips of partly formed dog’s ears. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Larna put out a hand to touch him, to prove he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. The boy had the same idea. As they simultaneously stretched out their fingers, Larna held her breath and waited for their fingertips to meet. The two hands passed over each other, but Larna felt nothing. She tried again, shaking but determined. Still no contact. It must be a ghost. It was the only possible conclusion.

  “You are Larna?”

  * * *

  There was an irritating buzz in Larna’s ear. Her watch. Its alarm was making a racket fit to wake the rest of the house. She pushed it under the pillow until it stopped. Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she breathed a sigh of relief, realising that the trees and the canine boy had all been a powerful dream.

 

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