by Tim O'Rourke
“And what does the sky look like now?” I asked, pulling the sheet up beneath my chin.
“It looks like it always has. The moment you collapsed into the snow everything seemed to go back to how it was before,” Trent said.
“It only seemed to go back as it was before?” I asked him. “Has something changed?”
With the flame of the candle flickering back and forth and casting shadows across the walls of the bedroom, I saw Trent’s eyes widen, then narrow as he looked at me lying on the bed. “We can’t leave this place. We can’t get out and no one or anything can get in. It’s like the spell you cast with the snow, but bigger somehow. But whatever it was you did, we’re trapped in this town behind an invisible wall that circles us on all sides. You did that, didn’t you, Julia?”
I nodded my head. “Yes,” I whispered. “The town of Shade and all of us in it are protected behind a wall of magic. Such spells are uncommon and rarely heard of because they not only drain a witch of all her magic, but all of her life force, too. But you can leave Shade, there’s a knack of passing through the wall. I can teach you and the others. But we are safe here from the vampires, for now.”
Trent frowned at me. “Only for now? You mean the magic won’t last?”
“I truly have no idea how long the spell will last,” I tried to explain. “It could last years, months, weeks, or days. The spell could last forever. As I tried to explain before, magic isn’t an exact science. It’s like a series of wavy lines that ebb and flow back and forth – there is no real way of controlling them – it’s like those tendrils of magic are in some way out of control. All a Wicce can do – all I can do – is weave them together, bend them to my will. But in the end the magic always finds a way of breaking free, coming apart at the seams and being undone. It’s like the magic has a mind of its very own. It’s like it doesn’t want to be constrained and ruled. It wants to be free.”
“You make it sound like a living and breathing thing,” Trent said.
“Magic is,” I told him. “Magic is all around us – in the sky, in the earth, in the wind, in the rain and the snow. It’s what kicks up the leaves in the wind and makes the waves crash against the shore. Magic is what you breathe in, it’s what makes your heart tick. It courses through your veins and buries itself into your soul.”
“So I could be trained to use magic too, if it’s in me like you say it is,” Trent said.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips to hear him say such a thing. And although I liked Trent, perhaps more than I really should, for once he had shown me a certain naiveté – a vulnerability.
He saw my smile and said, “Are you mocking me?”
“No, I’m not mocking you, I would never do such a thing,” I said, my smile fading. “But although magic is all around us and inside us, it is only the Wicce who have the ability to manipulate it, to control it. You could no sooner use magic than I could change into a wolf.” Then gently fingering the bandage on my neck once more, I added, “Although now, I’m not so sure.”
Now it was Trent’s turn to smile at me. He chuckled. “I doubt very much that just because Calix bit you, that you will now change into a wolf.”
“But I don’t feel well,” I told him. “I feel hot and feverish. Every bone and muscle in my body aches.”
“And I’m not surprised with the amount of blood that you lost, Julia,” Trent said, stepping away from the end of the bed and coming to sit beside me once more. And being so close to me, I could smell that sweet musty scent that I’d smelt before. The smell that had been so intoxicating and overpowering when Pariac and I had made love and when Trent had held me in his arms in the crypt beneath the church. I pushed both sets of memories from my mind, stomping out those feelings before they had a chance to flare-up once more inside me.
“How long was I unconscious for?” I asked Trent.
“Just over two weeks,” Trent said.
“Two weeks?” I gasped, my voice sounding broken and husky. Hearing this, Trent passed me the glass of water. “Who has been taking care of me?”
“We all have,” Trent said. “We’ve taken it in turns to be by your side night and day.”
Knowing that I was naked beneath the sheets I said, “And who was it that undressed me?”
“Rea did that,” Trent said with a half-smile as if sensing my shame and embarrassment.
“Why Rea?”
“Perhaps you would have preferred someone else to have undressed you?” Trent asked, his eyes searching mine. “Perhaps you preferred that it was me who had done so?”
I looked away, once more trampling over those feelings that threatened to awaken deep inside of me. I couldn’t afford to let that happen. I couldn’t make the same mistakes again. With my cheeks flushing hot and not just with the fever, I looked away and said, “What I meant was, why would Rea want to help me? She doesn’t even like me.”
“I know you and Rea haven’t always seen eye to eye, but she doesn’t hate you, Julia.”
“She could’ve fooled me,” I said right back, memories of how Rea had been antagonistic toward me still fresh in my mind.
“They were difficult times for us back then,” Trent said. “What, with travelling to a new country in the hope of finding more of our kind, only to discover that apart from Augustus Morten, all the werewolves had been slaughtered. To learn something like that is difficult for us. It was difficult for Rea. She doesn’t take to strangers perhaps as well as the rest of us do. But now we have settled things have started to calm down. Dare I say it, but I believe Rea has started to mellow. Her feelings are a little less fraught and tender.”
“So in my absence, while I slept, you have all settled in Shade?” I asked. “You’re quite happy to stay here?”
“For now,” Trent said. “Morten has taken up residence in a church on the other side of the park. There is a graveyard there so I guess he feels right at home. Rush has settled in some rooms in one of the disused shops, and Calix has decided to sleep rough in a derelict redbrick house on a hill beyond the church and graveyard.”
“Sleeping rough?” I said, turning to look once more at Trent. “Why would Calix want to sleep rough when there are so many empty houses in this town?”
“You know what Calix is like,” Trent sighed. “There seems to be no taming him.”
I gingerly touched the bandage covering the right side of my neck. The wound felt sore and I knew I would now have a permanent reminder of how untamed Calix truly was.
Trent closed his hand around mine and eased it away from the bandage. “So I was thinking that since you’ve spent the last two weeks recovering in this house, that perhaps it could become your home – for the time being, that is.”
“And what about you?” I asked him, his strong hand closed about mine like a glove.
“What about me?”
“Where are you living in Shade?”
Trent turned his head and looked into the candlelight. “Rea and I have taken rooms above the pub on the outskirts of town. Do you remember? It was called the Weeping Wolf…”
“I remember it,” I cut in. I pulled my hand free of his and took a breath before saying, “So you and Rea are back together?”
Trent frowned. “Back together?”
“You and Rea were together once, right?” I said, not wanting to sound too pushy – too nosy – or give the impression that such a thing bothered me.
“How do you know about that?” Trent sounded a little startled.
I didn’t want to confess to Trent that I had been earwigging on his and Rea’s conversation that night in the disused barn. And I didn’t want to get Rush into trouble by letting on that he had told me that Trent and Rea had once been lovers. So instead I said, “I think it’s blatantly obvious that there used to be something between you and Rea. Something that was more than just friendship. And I don’t think her feelings have changed for you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Are you for real?”
I scoffed then winced at once at the pain in the back of my throat. I took another sip of water before speaking again. “Rea turns into the green-eyed monster every time I look at you, let alone speak to you.”
“What are you trying to say?” Trent asked. “Are you saying Rea’s jealous?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I said. I felt disbelief that Trent could really be so blind.
“Jealous or not, what Rea and I once shared is now over,” Trent said.
“So do you think it’s wise that you are now living together?” I asked him. “Do you not think that you might give Rea ideas – let her believe that there is hope when really there is none?”
Smiling, Trent said, “It sounds like you’re a little jealous too.”
“Why would I be jealous?” I said, cheeks flushing scarlet again.
“You tell me,” Trent said, getting up from the bed.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Didn’t you feel anything between us that night I held you?” Trent asked, looking down at me as I lay beneath the sheets on the bed.
“It was just a hug,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. But secretly I knew I had felt something as he’d held me. But my feelings had felt so conflicted. To be held by Trent had stirred memories in me of someone else. So taking a deep breath, I added, “It didn’t mean anything more than that to me.”
Turning away from the bed, Trent set the candle down onto the dressing table and went to the door. He opened it, but before leaving my bedroom, he looked back and said, “Perhaps tomorrow you could show me and the others how to pass through this wall of magic you’ve created so we can leave Shade if we need to.”
“Sure,” I said. “Where should I meet you?”
“At the Weeping Wolf,” Trent said. “By the way, Calix has filled the stove in the kitchen with hot coals, so you should have some hot water at least.”
Once more, Trent turned his back on me. But before he’d had the chance to leave my bedroom, I called after him and said, “So what did you tell Rea?”
“About what?” he said, without looking back.
“About her finding us in each other’s arms that night.”
“I told her it had meant nothing to me,” Trent said before leaving me alone in my room.
Chapter Seven
From below, I heard the sound of the front door being swung shut. Peeling back the sheets from over me, and feeling like I’d been the victim of a good beating, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. There was a dressing gown draped over the end of the bed and I picked this up and put it on. Pulling the dressing gown tight about me, I went to the window. I pulled back the curtain just enough for me to peek through. I could see Trent heading away down the front garden path. While I had been unconscious, the weather had turned a little warmer and although snow still covered the ground, I could see that it had started to melt into a fine mush. From the window, I watched Trent open the front gate. He headed across the park and away from the house I was now going to call home.
Once Trent had disappeared from view, I let the curtain fall back into place. Picking up the candle, and with every joint and muscle aching, I shuffled like an old woman from the bedroom and out onto a narrow landing. There were two doors leading off this and I pushed open the first of them. I found myself in a small study. There was a desk with a lamp and a row of bookshelves fixed to the wall. Whoever had once lived here had enjoyed reading. Slowly, I crossed the room and could see much of the books were detective stories written by authors like Agatha Christie and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Turning away, I noticed a painting fixed to the wall. The painting was of a railway station. In the platform was a beast of a black steam engine. Clouds of thick, black smoke churned from its funnel and up into the platform overhang. In the foreground there was a couple who were kissing. What I couldn’t figure out was whether they were greeting each other or preparing to say goodbye. As I stood and stared at the painting, I realised it was hanging lopsided against the wall. Still holding the candle, I reached out with my free hand and attempted to straighten the painting. But however hard I tried, it just wouldn’t hang straight. So setting the candle down on the nearby desk, I lifted the picture away from the wall, and to my surprise, I could see a hole set into the brickwork. Blindly, I reached inside. It was just a small empty space. The perfect place to hide something, something valuable, something you wouldn’t want anybody else to find. With such thoughts at the forefront of my mind, I picked up the candle once more and left the study, returning to my room. I searched for the clothes I would have been wearing on the day I collapsed in the snow. I couldn’t see them anywhere. Had they been so bloodied and stained that Rea and the others had thrown them away? But if they had, what had happened to the spell book that was hidden in my coat pocket? I began to pull open the drawers beneath the dresser only to discover that they were full of clean clothes and underwear. But I couldn’t see any of my clothes anywhere. Feeling suddenly agitated, I turned to face the door. I was relieved to discover that my coat was hanging from a hook on the back of it. Crossing the room, I lifted my coat down and placed my hand into the pocket. To my relief, my fingers brushed over the leather-bound spell book I had somehow stepped into this world with. I took the book out and looked at the word written across the front cover. The word was written in Valais and read Spell.
Clutching the book to my chest, I left the bedroom and returned to the study. I placed the book into the hole carved into the wall and then covered this once more with the painting. Why I wanted to hide the book, I wasn’t sure. But one thing I did know, Calix had taken a keen interest in the book. He had asked me about it on two different occasions. It wasn’t so much that I distrusted Calix – maybe I did a little – but should I leave something so precious, something that could evoke such magic, lying around for anyone to find or discover? I didn’t think so.
With the spell book hidden away, I left the study and opened the second door which led from the landing. To my delight, I found a small bathroom, which was clean and tidy. There was a toilet, shower, and a small sink with a mirror fixed to the wall above it. I was desperate to wash away the aches and pains that racked my body. I turned on the shower. At once there was a clanging and banging sound from behind the walls as water slowly started to pump through the pipes and out of the showerhead. At first the water was the colour of chocolate, but after I’d left it running for some time, it finally started to run clear. I guessed it had been a long time since the shower had been used by anyone. Placing my hand under the running water, it felt just lukewarm. I waited for the coals Calix had placed in the stove to warm the water a little more, before I stripped off and stepped beneath it.
Turning to face the mirror, I looked at my reflection staring back at me. Having been asleep for almost two weeks, my eyes were dark and sunken and my cheeks hollow. The shine had gone from my black hair and it hung dull about my shoulders. Despite my pathetic appearance, I knew it wasn’t anything that a good meal, a good wash and shampoo couldn’t set right. My eye caught sight of the white bandage that had been taped about my throat. Blood had seeped from beneath it and stained the top. It looked like it had been spattered with strawberry jam. Using my fingers like tweezers, I screwed my eyes shut and readied myself for the pain I knew I was going to feel. Gritting my teeth, I quickly pulled back the bandage in one swift movement.
“Ouch!” I cried as the bandage fell away. It was then that I could fully see the bite mark Calix had made on the side of my neck. There were two dark marks. The skin around them was purple and green where the flesh had been left bruised. Apart from feeling very tender and sore, I knew that in time the bite mark would soon heal. And if I was lucky, I might only be left with two very small scars. However, they would be a constant reminder of Calix. There was a part of me that knew I should be grateful to Calix for saving my life, but there was a greater overriding feeling of anger I just couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t so much I disliked Calix, but I
feared what such a bite might do to me. It was rumoured that if bitten by a werewolf, you would be cursed to become one. It would only be a matter of time before you succumbed to the curse and eventually take on the traits of a werewolf. But could such a thing happen to me? I wasn’t human, I was a Wicce. And I’d never heard of a werewolf biting a Wicce before. If such a thing had ever happened, I’d not heard of it. Trent was of the opinion that Calix’s bite would have no effect on me whatsoever, but I just couldn’t shake off a nagging doubt that perhaps he was wrong about that. I couldn’t help feeling unsure and a little scared.
Over my shoulder and reflected back in the mirror, I could see steam wafting up from the water that was now running hot. I took off the dressing gown and stood beneath the shower. The water splashed over me like rain, and at once those aches and pains I could feel in my joints and muscles began to loosen and ease a little. Raising both hands above my head and standing on tiptoe, I stretched, tilted my head back, and let the water rain down over my upturned face. It wasn’t very long before I was feeling like a Wicce again. There was a tray attached to the shower wall and on it was a bottle of soap. I squeezed some of the soap into my hands. It smelt of freshly cut flowers. I massaged it into my hair and rubbed it into my skin. Feeling a little more like my old self, I switched off the shower and plucked up a clean towel, which was hanging from a rail next to the sink. I towelled myself dry and put on the dressing gown once more. With my hair hanging down about my shoulders, I left the bathroom and headed downstairs. I wanted to investigate the house that I would, for the time being, call home.
At the foot of the stairs, I found myself in a small hallway. The front door was directly ahead of me. Looking back on myself, I could see two more doors just like there had been on the landing. I pushed open the first of the doors and stepped into a small cosy living room. There was a fireplace built into the wall but there was no fire burning within it and the room felt chilly. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of dust and damp. Still holding the towel, I began to dry my hair as I peered about the room. There was a sofa and armchair and both of these looked worn and threadbare. Despite the smell, most of the furniture and the rug covering the floor was clean and tidy and the house seemed like the perfect place for me to set up home while in the town of Shade. Just like upstairs there was plenty of books scattered about the place, but in the corner there was a small TV set. I saw little point in even trying to turn it on as there was no electricity.
