Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins

by Margeaux Laurent

  He looked incredibly anxious. He crouched down and spoke quickly in between listening to the soldiers footsteps.

  “We are surrounded. There must be fifty soldiers patrolling out here,” his voice was so quiet that I had to press my ear to his lips to hear him.

  “Did Becky find Isaac?” I asked.

  He shook his head, “I have no idea. I have been surveying the area. I saw her move around to the back of the shed and that was the last I saw of her.”

  “Did you see Lamont?” I asked.

  “He's on horseback . . . I think we need to leave right now,” his eyes were now surveying me and he reached to pull me to him so he could carry me.

  I blocked his hand as it came near my waist.

  “No. I have to make sure that Becky and Isaac get to safety,” I said sternly.

  “This is a trap Aislin. He knows you are here . . . if we stay, you will be walking straight into an ambush,” his tone was becoming frantic.

  “They are my family. I have no choice,” I replied as I stood.

  Greer pushed me against a tree, “We are too late to change our course . . . they are coming.”

  I started to hear rustling through the trees and the sound of plodding hoofs on the soft snow.

  “I will handle them . . . run,” he said, as he pushed me toward the shed.

  I glanced back and saw him turn in the opposite direction, straight into the clearing where the soldiers were approaching.

  I was sprinting to where I hoped to find Isaac and Becky. I heard the galloping of horses and demands for Greer to identify himself.

  Screaming and musket shots filled the air. Shot after shot rang out, but the screams continued. Greer was one person standing against at least fifty men. I thought of his injury from Zachariah, and I could not believe that Greer was immune from death.

  The thought of Greer facing such adversity on his own was too much for me. I turned around and ran back. Standing out of the soldiers’ line of vision, I concentrated all my will on the trees that surrounded where the battle was taking place. The trees started shaking violently above the soldiers heads. Branches began to fall around them, and a few large trees crashed to the ground. There was still fighting going on. I could hear Greer growling, but I thought I had at least thinned out his opponents.

  “Keep going,” I heard him scream.

  I bolted through the open clearing of the Leeds’ front yard and straight to Lamont’s shed. It was only a few feet away now. The shed's small door was nearly within my grasp.

  Then, I looked into the tree line beyond the shed and saw Becky. She was holding Isaac and running for her life. Something caught my eye and I looked to the left of them and saw a giant grey horse galloping through the forest, heading directly for Becky and Isaac. On top of the horse was a rider dressed all in black. He looked like an evil spirit with his coat bellowing behind him, a pistol raised in his right outstretched hand reflected the last rays of sunlight as he closed in on Becky.

  I needed to do something fast, “Lamont!” I screamed.

  The rider pulled hard on the reins, causing the horse to rear back and throw its front quarters high. Its breath looked like smoke in the cold air. The rider did not falter as his horse’s front hoofs landed on the forest floor. He turned and faced me with a wicked smile spread across his horrible face.

  “You know, I had just come to the realization that I would have to settle for feeding off weaker magic. I did not think you were quite this foolish but yet, here you are. I should have used this technique earlier . . . it could have saved me a lot of time and aggravation.”

  He turned his horse away from the woods and started to move slowly toward where I stood. I did not move. As long as he was focused on me, Becky and Isaac could run.

  I was standing about ten feet in front of the shed in a large clearing. I still could hear yells and gunshots from the forest behind me, where Greer was fighting for his life. I flinched at the thought of Greer's predicament and I looked again towards the tree line . . . Becky and Isaac seemed to have disappeared.

  A sudden new awareness overcame me. I was alone with Lamont.

  I instinctually reached for my pocket and then realized it was not there. In my rush to leave the house, I had forgotten my charms and I had forgotten the book as well. I felt my breath quicken and my hands start to shake. I was alone with the Warlock and I was unarmed. Of all the times I had envisioned our final battle, in all my great preparation, I had never foreseen this. I felt defenseless.

  “Did you really think you could escape me?” he sneered, as our distance closed.

  He raised both his arms out to the sides of his body and muttered something under his breath, as he looked skyward.

  I did not have time to answer him. I felt a sharp pain grip me. The same pain I always felt when his spell sliced through my body, except this time it was much stronger. I fell to my hands and knees and screamed. He did not have to split his power as he did at the Ball. He did not have to bother concealing himself as he did at the port. I was now experiencing the full power of his curse and it sent me reeling in agony.

  I stared down at my hands, snow was packed in between my fingers and my skin was turning blue. Tears welled in my eyes from the pain, but through my blurred vision, I saw something colorful and soft land on my right hand. It was a butterfly.

  I could hear him laughing cruelly as I cried out in torment, but even as his spell ripped through my body, my memories jolted. I stared at the butterfly and my walk with Martha came back to me. I was not alone and I was not defenseless. I had memorized spells. I had my own magic.

  I heard the horse's breath as though it was on top of me, but I did not look up. Suddenly, everything that Martha had ever taught me came to the forefront of my mind. I knew I had to work fast.

  “I am disappointed in you Aislin. I thought that you would at least try to fight me,” he goaded from where he sat on his horse.

  I stuck my hands into the snow and quickly drew a circle around me, as I muttered a protection spell under my breath.

  “What do you think you are doing?” he bellowed, as he pulled on the reins and his horse bucked in anger.

  I did well. The pain from his spell stopped instantaneously. I slowly rose to my feet, my little circle acting as a barrier that his hexes could not penetrate.

  I looked around. He was moving away from the tree line, closer to the clearing where I stood, but there were still large trees towering behind him and I was going to bring them crashing down on top of him. I took a breath to concentrate. I had to act swiftly before he could figure out what I was planning.

  “I don't have time for this,” he hissed. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his pistol.

  The pistol glinted in the darkness and I froze. It was happening again! I was staring down the barrel of his gun. I felt time slow down as disbelief fogged my mind. I could not believe that with all my magic, it would end this way once more.

  I stuttered and started to brace myself for the bullet's impact, but then remembered that I could handle that too. I willed his arm to swing to the left, the gun discharged in his hand and the shot flew wide.

  I watched him reach for another firearm that was hidden beneath his coat. He raised it, but I used my magic to jam the hammer of the pistol from striking the primer, and he could not make the weapon fire.

  “You are not the only one with power, warlock,” I growled.

  His head snapped up in response to my words, “How dare you call me a traitor!” he said, as he threw his firearm to the ground in disgust. “I am not the traitor here. I wasn't the one who fell in love with the enemy Spaniard and left the Coven.”

  “What?” I stammered in surprise.

  “Oh, do you not remember? How convenient for you,” he smiled in delight, as though nothing would please him more than to tell me this dark secret. “Well let me enlighten you.” He circled me on his horse while I kept spinning around so my back was never to him.

  “Yo
u were once part of a great coven. Perhaps the most powerful coven of witches ever assembled. I am one of the high priests . . . along with your parents,” he saw me crease my brow in disbelief and spat at me, “No. Not the weak, ridiculous, people you call your parents now. These people are of a different stock, strong and powerful. They used the dark Craft to gain wealth and status, and to destroy their enemies. Your father was a high priest and a shrewd businessman. You were one of the Coven's apprentices, and I was charged with bringing you up in the Craft.”

  I looked at him incredulously and he read my expression.

  “Like it or not, this is your truth Aislin! I was your advisor and you were my star pupil.”

  I shook my head, not willing to accept his story… but deep down something resonated. To my unease, I knew he was telling the truth. Lamont saw the spark of recognition in my eyes.

  “Oh yes, under my command you did many great deeds in the name of the Coven and I praised you for it. Even so, the others did not trust you. They thought you were weak when it came to your sensibility. I decided to prove them wrong and when we were hired by a rival family to take down the Ruthven's and steal their wealth, I selected you for the task.”

  “Greer's family?” I said more to myself them to Lamont.

  “So your memory is starting to return? Good. Then you should remember that I sent you to pick up some soil from their land so we could hex their property. Your cover was to pick flowers in the fields by their castle. That is where you met your beloved and that was the very day when you betrayed us. You made a fool out of me and you betrayed your people. If that was not bad enough, you even went further in your insolence. You stood in the way of the Coven's business by casting protection spells on all the Ruthven's and their property. You divulged our secrets and hid in the protection of their castle. Yet, with all your talent, you were never smart enough to protect yourself. You only placed a protection upon your Craft so your powers could never be taken from you . . . apparently not even in death. I was sent to destroy you by the request of your own father and after the way you betrayed me, I was more than happy to be the one to crush you.”

  “I don't believe you!” I screamed.

  “Oh, I know. It's so sad to think that you were once a dark witch isn't it?” he said mockingly.

  Somewhere within me, as though another person was speaking out, I responded to his comment, “I didn’t betray anyone… I was never like any of you!” I screamed back.

  His eyes narrowed in anger, “You were more like us than you ever wanted to admit. You were addicted to the power of the dark arts.”

  “You lie!” I shrieked, as the trees behind him started to sway with my anger.

  “No Ashling…you are the one who is the Warlock. You are the one who is a vial traitor!” His voice was filled with rage, as he swept his hand and a swift gust of his power forced me into seeing my past.

  Images flooded my mind. I saw spells and caldrons, secret meeting places in underground caves—I saw the day I met Greer and I saw the necklace that he gave me on my wedding night.”

  “The necklace,” I gasped, as I reached up and threw it from my neck.

  “Like a beacon,” he laughed wickedly. “Granted his love for you countered the charm greatly, but yet the curse was still enough to draw me to your bedchamber on your wedding night two hundred years ago and it conveniently found you again just when I arrived in the New World.”

  I looked at the gem as it laid against the snow covered earth. It looked like a single drop of blood against the ground.

  “It was not difficult to disguise myself into a peddler and convince Greer that this was the perfect wedding present for you. All I had to say was that it was like nothing else in the world. Completely unique and meant for a princess,” his tone was mocking and cruel, “The cocky boy always had to have the very best. Always had to flaunt his wealth around and always had to show off his athleticism on his damn horse,” he snorted, “What you saw in that boy I will never know. He was cocky and arrogant and contained no magical gifts . . . ” Bitterness seeped through Lamont's words as he spoke, “Telling him that he could give you something that no one else would ever hope to touch appeased his ego. I just forgot to tell him that the worthless rocks only unique quality was the summoning charm I placed upon it.”

  I turned my focus to move the trees, to end this once and for all, but he just laughed.

  “Don't bother. There is nothing you can use against me. In that sense, the others were right. You were never strong enough to use your Craft to kill.” I saw him shift in the saddle, “Now let me demonstrate the proper way to use the Craft,” his eyes flashed as he lifted his hands, speaking loudly in ancient words.

  A swift wind began to blow and I watched as the protective circle I had drawn around me in the snow started to fade away. As the line lightened, the pain started coming back again.

  I saw the necklace blow passed me, and my dress whipped around me, as I struggled to breathe against the oncoming rush of air.

  “Shall we relive some more memories together? I would like to see the expression on your face as you experience my handy work before I take your life,” he said over the howling wind.

  Instantly, my mind was bombarded with images he placed there. Becky's leg being slashed in the forest, Martha being tortured, Rebecca lying over Mercy and Sarah to protect them as her back was slashed by hideous claws, little Ginny slumped on the ground of their bed chamber where she fell and the Lenape girl being mauled by him and left to die by the riverside. Lamont was not done. The images kept going. I saw Sneachta being attacked and Greer, screaming in anguish as he watched me die in his arms.

  “Stop!” I wailed in agony.

  “As you wish,” his voice pounded in my head.

  He muttered more incoherent words and a new kind of pain overtook me. Blood was seeping from my skin, turning the snow red beneath me. It felt like a thousand knives were cutting through me, although there was not a single laceration on my exposed flesh. Then I felt a rope, burning as hot as the sun, begin to bind around me, tightening on my broken ribs and around my neck. He was killing me with some wicked spell.

  I clutched at the ground as I tried to force him from my mind.

  “You see Ashling, we can go round and round. I can chase you through the centuries, but as I told you before, you can never escape me,” he stretched in his saddle and his hands moved in a quick and deliberate motion. His body started to flicker as he began to shape shift, “Before I kill you, I just wanted you to know. You have not saved anyone tonight. I will wait for them to discover your few remains, and I will let them all be filled with the sorrow of your death . . . and then I will slowly hunt them down. But I'll leave the little boy and Greer for last.”

  His words struck me hard and in the place where terror and grief had been, rage and hatred quickly took its place.

  I struggled to my feet. My desire to protect my loved ones was giving me the strength to overcome his spell. I muttered another protection charm as I rose to my full height. My body ached and threatened to give in, but my mind forced my legs to hold me up.

  He started morphing into the Puca. I saw his form begin to flicker and shift, the stench of the wicked spell was filling the air.

  “Be brave child,” I heard Martha's voice say in my head.

  All of the magic I once knew flooded back into me. In the background, I could hear Mrs. Leeds screaming loudly from the house as she neared the end of her delivery. Her high-pitched shrieks filled the night as though she was the Banshee herself.

  Lamont was still on his horse, but his figure was starting to disappear. I glared at him, and remembering the many spells that I had spent hours memorizing, I raised my voice and started my incantations.

  With one flick of my hand, I ignited an enormous ring of fire around him. Wind rushed around me as my magic worked. I could feel the heat of the fire against my face as the flames shot up high into the air. The horse bucked and panicked. It tried to jump thro
ugh the fire with Lamont on its back and receded into the ring when it could not get through.

  “No!” Lamont screamed, as his image faded in and out.

  I was not done yet. I cast another spell, this time to bind his powers. Five lines of fire spread from the center of the circle that encompassed Lamont, creating the pentacle. As I did so, the horse bucked hard to throw Lamont from its back. Lamont’s own spell was trapped and forced back upon him and the horse.

  The power of his spell, encapsulated within the flames and having nowhere to dissipate, hit Lamont with full force. His steed tried to jump through the fire with Lamont on its back, but receded into the ring when it could not get through.

  Lamont cried out in an inhuman voice. Through the flames, I could see the struggle as his magic failed him. He was stuck between forms. My circle had contained his spell and brought it collapsing back upon him.

  I thought once more of Rebecca and I remembered my vow to avenge her. I could hear Lamont's wails of torment and I now searched for ways of prolonging his suffering. Showing him the same merciless treatment he had dealt to countless others.

  I looked at the trees that swayed behind the glowing earth where he remained ensnared and caught sight of large icicles that clung to the branches. I used my mind to snap them off the limbs of the trees and hurl them at Lamont. He writhed and yowled as the spikes slammed into his body.

  “You will never touch my family again!” I screamed at him, as I caused the flames to grow even higher around him. Inhuman noises were echoing in the night air as he kept trying to lunge through the fire line, each time burning himself more severely and grunting in response.

  I looked for more ways to torture him as the images he had placed in my mind earlier kept haunting me. These events would forever trouble me and Lamont was the cause of them all. I let out a scream of rage as I used my magic to uproot a giant evergreen that was behind Lamont.

  “Aislin! No!” A familiar voice yelled.

  The owner of this voice shook me hard, distracting me and breaking my spell. “Do not become like him . . . you are using dark magic,” Becky's horrified voice told me.