Spellbound Chronicles – Blood Line

by Suzanne Maguire

  The picture flickered and died again. Everyone held their breath in anticipation of further activity in the disc. Sure enough, it gradually came back to life. The Lumins glowed again as the disc captured a creature slithering out of the water. Unseen hands picked up the disc and carried it back into the lake. There were no further pictures.

  Annie fainted, dropping like a stone before anyone could catch her. Chet and Aron picked her up and placed her on Larna’s bed, fanning with their hands until she started to regain consciousness. “Don’t worry about mum,” said Chet. “She’ll be alright, once she gets over the shock. Besides, isn’t it time you left?”

  Hurriedly, Larna and Aron bade Chet and his mother goodbye and returned downstairs via the moving step. Neve stayed behind for a few more minutes with Tibs in order to pass on some comforting words to Annie. Brother and sister waited outside in the garden in complete silence. Neither had anything to say, constructive or otherwise. Eventually, their grandmother appeared. “This was supposed to be your holiday,” she sighed. “Your mother won’t be very happy with me if you’re tired and grumpy in the morning when she picks you up.”

  Aron and Larna just stood there, saying nothing. Learning the grim fate of Annie’s husband and June had taken the gloss off the prospect of going home. Tiblou and Violet joined them. “Mum’s going to be fine. The shock is beginning to wear off. She sends you her love and deepest gratitude for everything. At least we now know what happened to Aunty June and Papa Zeb.”

  A harassed Chet came down alone. “We’re going to have our hands full, brother.”

  Tibs frowned. “Why?”

  “Mum wants us to form a search party. Go underground and look for Dad, if he’s still alive. She won’t listen to reason right now, but she will in time. I hope.”

  Shutting her eyes in dismay, Larna hoped Annie wouldn’t put anyone in danger, now or in the future. After all, she had had first-hand experience of the underworld and it still terrified her.

  “To be on the safe side, put Edsel’s wand in a secure place, Tiblou,” advised Neve. “The evil creature could still find out where it is and wreak havoc if he got his hands on it.” So the young wizard took the smooth black wand and held it at arms’ length between his two hands.

  “I’m not sure what spell to use,” he murmured.

  “You must have more confidence in yourself, dear,” said Neve, patiently. “You’ve shown great skill already in the way you’ve defeated Edsel. Trust your new powers. Make them work for you in the way you want.”

  “Okay, I will,” replied Tibs, but his face showed he wasn’t as confident as he sounded. He muttered a few strange words and, with a whooshing noise, the wand faded in and out of view before disappearing completely.

  “There!” he said with obvious relief. “I’ve made Edsel’s wand disappear, so the monster can’t possibly find it.” Then under his breath he added, “I hope.”

  Satisfied the wand was safely hidden, Neve finally announced it was time for them to go. She asked Tibs and Violet to join forces and whisk them across to the geocache spot where they could jump from this dimension back into theirs. The travellers moved at speed to the clearing where Clementine was waiting for them.

  “I’ve been here for ages. What kept you? The key doesn’t have everlasting life. If you don’t get a move on, you could be stuck here for years.” That galvanized them into a round of frenzied hugs, goodbyes, thank yous, and miss yous. Aron insisted on shaking hands, not hugging.

  “Are you ready, you two?” asked Clementine.

  They said they were. She stood to one side.

  “What about you, Yaya? Aren’t you coming as well?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” she answered with a smile. “I have my own method of transportation. I’ll be waiting for you at the other end.”

  As before, the jewelled key reappeared in Larna’s pocket and began to agitate. She looked up and saw a shooting star in the night sky and thought of Balgaire. At first she thought he was making his final, final appearance. But there was something urgent about the way the light pulsated from the comet. It looked like a warning – a flashing danger sign. Was Balgaire trying to tell them something was wrong? If so, what could it be? Shrugging her shoulders, Larna looked down again and found their grandmother had already disappeared. Now it was their turn, before it was too late.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Larna and Aron found their grandmother and Clement waiting for them in the clearing. There was a slight breeze rustling the leaves and a freshness in the air as if it had been raining.

  “Welcome back, you two.” Clem said.

  “It’s great to be home.” Larna was bursting with relief

  “No place like it. Nice to travel, but good to come back again, don’t ya know.”

  “Right on!” agreed Aron. High fives with Clem.

  “Yaya, what’s happened to your robes?” She was dressed in her ordinary, everyday clothes of their time. Neve tut-tutted. “Come on, I can’t swan around in those here. People would think I’d gone batty.” She began to laugh and slowly walked away.

  Clement held out his hand to Larna. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

  “No, what?”

  He pointed to the key. “That!”

  “Don’t we get to look after it?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. That’s my job. It must be returned to where you found it.”

  He picked up the geocache box and held it out.

  “Can we use it again?”

  “Of course you can.” The old man grinned. “If you can find it.” He softened. “Neve is a Superior White Witch and a member of The Grand Council. It is your birthright.” He looked chuffed to bits, full of his own importance. “That gives you the right. But, heed my warning; you can only use the key in a responsible manner. Not for personal amusement or to hurt or harm others. Do you understand?”

  In silence they nodded and Larna placed the key back in the box. She looked to see how far their grandmother was ahead of them and, when they glanced back to wish Clement goodbye, he’d vanished. So had the geocache box. And so had the spot in the clearing where it had been buried.

  Aron started to run to catch up with his gran, but remembered his sister’s disability and changed his mind. Instead he helped Larna to walk as fast as she was able until they caught up with Neve and then walked either side of her the rest of the way to Blithe Cottage. The garden gate swung open of its own accord and silently closed behind them, a reminder that there was still magic in the air emanating from their grandmother. She stopped outside the front door.

  “Before we go inside, I have to say how proud I am of both of you. What you have achieved in the last few days, in spite of great personal danger, is remarkable. I have to confess though that in the beginning I was against it. I feared I may lose you, but was overruled by the Grand High Council. Thankfully, it has all worked out as planned. Even losing Balgaire was a possibility.

  Then in the ensuing silence Neve lead her grandchildren into the cottage.

  * * *

  They were let off from having a bath or a shower as long as they cleaned their teeth before getting into bed. They felt shattered, but they couldn’t resist carrying out a full post-mortem of what had happened to them.

  “Put out the light and go to sleep,” Neve called up halfway through their analysis.

  Aron was reluctant to go to his own room. As he reached the door, Larna turned to switch off her bedside lamp. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move. She shot up and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place, so she prepared to snuggle down again. There it was again! A shadow, moving like lightning, then stillness. She sat bolt upright and tried to remember where she had seen whatever it was.

  Back under the covers, her brain still wouldn’t let her relax. Untangling the sheets from one of the callipers, she crawled out, sat on the end of the bed and studied the wall painting, section by section. It bore a remarkable likeness to… suddenly, it hit her righ
t between the eyes! This was no ordinary picture. This was the future from which she and her brother had just returned. It showed Tiblou’s new house, Uncle Roger’s Kitchen Café and Cai, sitting on the ground beside the Major Oak – with a sad expression, clearly looking for someone. Was it her? Startled, Larna blinked hard and sat up straight. Surely not, she thought, and then her eye spotted something which she knew had not been there when they came to bed. It was in a corner of the painting – a smooth black wand that was pulsating with a faint light, like Balgaire’s comet only much weaker.

  Aron heard Larna’s loud cry and re-joined his sister on the bed. Together they stared at the bottom right-hand corner. Then something made Larna ask Aron to fetch her jacket. She shoved her hand deep into one of the pockets and pulled out Edsel’s wand! It had incorrectly been sent there by Tiblou’s spell.

  “What’s this doing here?” she gasped, dropping it like a hot potato.

  “Now we’re in trouble,” cried Aron. “I think we should tell Yaya.”

  Larna anxiously bit her bottom lip, deep in thought “No, I don’t. This is all my fault.” She moaned.

  “How do you work that one out?” Aron asked.

  “I don’t know, but for some reason I still feel it’s my fault.”

  “Well, I think you’re stupid. You’re over reacting.”

  Larna ignored him. She snatched up the wand and made for the door.

  “Where are you going?” called Aron.

  “To hide this,” she whispered. “Yaya has been through enough. And if this is my fault, then it’s my problem.”

  They came to the conclusion that the safest thing would be to temporarily bury the wand as far from Blithe Cottage as possible. Until they could fathom out what to do with it. It needed to be enclosed in metal so its power would not radiate through the ground and give away its position. So Aron sneaked downstairs and returned with one of Neve’s big old-fashioned biscuit tins.

  “This was the only one not full,” he puffed. Opening the tin he took out a large bar of yellow soap that smelt like the caretaker’s room at school. “I thought, if we melted it a bit so it would stick to the bottom of the tin, we could shove the wand into the middle.” He looked at Larna, waiting for the penny to drop, “So it won’t rattle when we go out to bury it.”

  “Yeah! Good thinking!”

  They took the soap to the bathroom, half-filled the basin with very hot water and dropped it in, waiting until it was soft enough to work. Pulling the plug, the water drained away leaving a gooey blob. After letting the block cool for a few seconds so they could handle it, Aron picked it up and with help from his sister shoved the wand through the centre. Then they packed it tightly in the box and secured the lid.

  Back in the bedroom, Larna found one of her old school ties in her bedside drawer and wound it round the biscuit tin. Making it safe for all time, she hoped.

  “Now let’s get this thing out of Yaya’s house. Just in case.”

  It took a long time to leave the cottage, Larna being forced to lean on Aron most of the time. They helped themselves to a torch from under the stairs and one of their grandmother’s special gardening spades from the back porch before setting out into the forest. The biscuit tin was under one of Larna’s arms, the other arm round her brothers’s neck for support. Aron carried the spade and the torch. It was pitch black, eerie and a totally different atmosphere from the woods in broad daylight. Big eyes and hoots made them jump. The tree seemed miles away and took ages to reach. Sitting under it for a few minutes to get their breath back, Aron gave a weary sigh, “I hope this doesn’t backfire.” He pulled a couple of biscuits out of his pocket and handed one to Larna.

  “How?”

  “Come back to haunt us for doing our own thing. I still think we should tell Yaya.

  “I’ve told you why not. Now stop talking and start digging!”

  Stuffing the last piece of biscuit into his mouth Aron pushed himself up, chose a reasonably soft patch of earth under the tree and began to dig. When he judged the hole was sufficiently deep, they buried the tin with its powerful contents. Then, in silence, Larna helped Aron backfill as best she could and watched him jump up and down until the mound went flat. Satisfied, they had another few minutes rest to gather their strength before slowly retracing their steps. They were exhausted.

  As they walked away Aron turned his head to one side, listening to the usual night noises. “What’s that?”

  “What’s what?” Larna asked.

  “Sounds like tapping.”

  “Probably a woodpecker or something. You’re letting your imagination work overtime. Now let’s get away from here.”

  But the damage was done. A seed had been planted. Aron’s imaginings kept Larna awake that night, listening for the slightest sound. That, plus the pins and needles in her legs.

  * * *

  At the breakfast table the following morning, Neve surprised them by casually asking about the missing tin. Aron snorted out a mouthful of juice and Larna donned her best innocent face, pretending to be dumb. They looked at each other and shrugged in resignation.

  “What biscuit tin?”

  “Have you two learned nothing these past few days?” Neve started to laugh. “It wasn’t rocket science. I followed the trail of crumbs up the stairs and guess where it led. If you must have a midnight feast in your bedroom, I suggest you don’t leave incriminating evidence.”

  Aron went red, but didn’t once mention their nocturnal outing, despite his reservations about it. In a fit of conscience, Larna couldn’t let her brother take all the blame. “I had some as well.” She admitted.

  “What have you done with the tin?”

  They had to think fast and Larna was first to come up with a suitable answer, lame though it was. “We’d decided to bury something. Until our next visit.” Keeping as close to the truth without confessing to the whole.

  “Ah! Future treasure-trove, eh?”

  “That’s right,” said Aron.

  Then the hall clock chimed ten, reminding them that their mum would arrive at any minute. Excusing themselves Aron raced upstairs with Larna following at a more sedate pace to clean their teeth and bundle their things into backpacks. Neve followed Larna into her room and sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here, dear, and sit down.” She patted the covers, “Sometimes I’m a forgetful old lady. I should have dispensed with these leg irons last night. I’d better do it now before your mother arrives. We don’t want to frighten the life out of her now, do we?”

  Larna began to tremble. “Do you think it’ll be okay?”

  “These injuries haven’t happened in our time,” said Neve, tapping the metal. “It’s in the future, light years away. Have a little faith in your old grandmother, yes?” She smiled reassuringly and began to dismantle the callipers.

  She was right, as usual. Larna’s legs were healed and she rewarded Yaya with the biggest hug and loudest thanks she could muster before slinging her backpack over her shoulder and charging off after Aron. Their mum, Elizabeth, had just arrived and was turning the car around ready to drive straight off. She pipped the horn. In the hall the other three stood, each silently replaying shared memories. Neve was the first to make a move and break the spell saying, “Sadly, it’s time to go.” She put a hand on each of their shoulders and escorted them out of the cottage.

  “Will you answer one question for me?” Larna asked as they walked down the drive towards the car.

  “Certainly, if I can.”

  “Is mum a witch, like you?”

  “No love, it sometimes skips a generation.”

  “Does she know?” Aron chimed in. “What you are.”

  “I doubt it. There has never been a need to tell her.”

  “Didn’t you ever do any magic for her, even when she was a little girl?”

  “Probably, but your mother didn’t appear to be aware of it.”

  Turning, her back to the car so her mum wouldn’t hear Larna asked, “So, Yaya, how do we find o
ut?”

  “Find out what?”

  “Whether we have ‘the power’. Like you.”

  Neve began to laugh, heartily. “I’ve been expecting that one for a long time.” She mussed both their hair and with a knowing wink said, “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  Larna had already started dreaming of it as they ran to the car. She failed to hear a distant, ominous knocking coming from the woods…

  THE END… for now…