by Mona Hanna
***
The next day they were sitting in their kitchen, a sunny room at the back of the house, drinking tea together. They had another week together before he and Ariel went back to work. Sunlight shone through the light curtains onto the wooden table, the bench and cupboards also bathed in the glow. There was a fireplace along the wall and various cooking utensils around the room. A vase of yellow flowers stood in the middle of the table.
Ariel took another sip of tea, then gasped, putting her hand to her stomach.
Brayden frowned. “What is it?” he asked.
Ariel looked at him. “I don’t know. I just felt something. Like movement, or something. But it’s too soon for that yet. I don’t know what it was.”
Brayden stood and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want me to bring my mother here? Do you need some help?”
“No, it’s probably nothing. It was only the once. It’s okay.”
He sat back down, but felt a little uneasy. “Alright. Have you given any thought to how you want to locate the other High Witch? The older one? We don’t have a lot of money and aren’t really in a position to travel around. We’d need to hear stories about a witch with enormous power who may have done something big at some stage. She may not be aware of what she is, like you weren’t. I’m not quite sure how to go about this.”
They were silent for a moment. “Surely there’s a spell I could cast, something that could reach out to her?” Ariel said. “There has to be some way I could use magic to find her.”
Brayden shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Nadia certainly didn’t know of a spell, or she would have used magic to find you. But it does seem hard to believe that you have all that power—that the other witch has all that power—and you can’t find each other. Do you want me to find some books about locating spells?”
Ariel nodded. “Yes, please. It would be a start. And then…” Ariel gasped again, then was thrown back in her chair. She held on to the table, breathing deeply. She looked at Brayden, her eyes wide.
He stared back in horror.
“Brayden, can a baby use magic in the womb?”
Brayden shook his head. “That’s impossible. She—she’s not even big enough yet. You’re not even showing yet! She can’t… it can’t be! I… I…”
Ariel put a shaky hand to her stomach, then disappeared on the spot, reappearing in a corner of the kitchen.
Brayden rushed to her side and clutched her tightly.
She reached out her arms and held on to him, shaking. “Something’s wrong,” Ariel said. “That wasn’t me. She’s using magic. It’s coming out of her somehow. I’m frightened, Brayden.”
Brayden took a deep breath, petrified. Something was definitely wrong. He brought Ariel into a hug, determined to find a healer who knew about magic straight away. They didn’t need anything bad to happen.
Heaven help them if something bad happened.
Chapter 2
Hallie sat in the tavern after work, trying to enjoy the meal of meat and vegetables before her. She was at a small table along the wall by herself, half-listening to the loud sounds of people talking and laughing. The dimly lit place had the aroma of smoke mixed with the smell of ale and the food people were eating. There were a lot of people there, but they all left Hallie alone. They didn’t know about her past. She was safe there.
She took a sip of her wine, remembering with a heavy heart what day this was. It was two years exactly since she’d last seen Sean. After their fight all those months ago, he took a job on his uncle’s ship and left town. She hadn’t heard from him in all that time—not even a single letter. She had no way of knowing where he was, but she knew he could still find her because her parents knew where she lived. Didn’t he want to know how she was doing? Wasn’t he curious at all? She sighed, having to resign herself to the fact that he probably got married to someone and had forgotten all about her. She guessed she never meant as much to him as he meant to her.
She gradually finished eating, then tucked her hair behind her ears. Her appearance had changed a bit over the last couple of years: she had gotten a little taller but not much; her hair was a little longer now, though still a wavy mess; she lost the extra weight she’d carried throughout her childhood, her face less round and her figure more slender.
But her life had changed significantly in other ways. She had been copying letters and other documents for people in her town for years for free, just because she was good at it and enjoyed it. She had always been good at writing and was an excellent reader, much to her parents’ dismay. They always wanted her to be good at more practical tasks, get married, and be a good housewife. But Hallie preferred reading and writing.
When she was seventeen, the man who became her employer was traveling in her town and needed some letters copied at the last moment. Hallie did the work for him, and he was so impressed he offered to take her on as his apprentice as long as she was willing to leave with him. And so she went with him. The elderly man was a highly proficient writer, and Hallie had a huge amount of work to do. She had worked for the man for the last year, he paid her well, and she earned a reputation as a highly intelligent, hard-working woman. She was pleased she had started work, had started a new life, but there was a hole in her heart nothing could fill. She tried to ignore it with work, which was all she really had.
No one in that town knew she was a witch—no one knew anything about her really. She mainly kept to herself, and while the people around her seemed nice and friendly, she just wanted to work and not get close to anyone. She didn’t want anyone there to know about her past. It was safer that way.
Hallie took another sip of wine when she felt someone watching her. She looked around, then saw a young man of around twenty standing near the door. He was tall and slender, with short black hair. To her surprise he made his way towards her and stood by her table.
“I hear you work for Amos,” the man said in a gentle voice.
Hallie half-smiled. “Yes, I do. I’m his scribe.”
The man nodded. “I heard you do very good work. My name is Nicholas.”
“Hallie,” she replied, feeling a little nervous.
Nicholas rubbed his chin. “I have some letters I need copied. Do you think you would be able to help me? I would pay you well.”
Hallie looked down, fidgeting with her napkin. “I guess so. I don’t work on Sundays. I could do it for you then.” She looked up at him again and saw him gazing at her warmly.
He gestured to the empty chair across from her. “May I sit down? I’ve been traveling all day and would like to rest my feet.”
“I—alright,” Hallie said. “I’ll be leaving soon, though. But you’re welcome to sit.”
He didn’t reply, just took the seat. Silence settled between them, but to Hallie’s surprise, it wasn’t all that uncomfortable. She glanced at Nicholas, noting he had pleasant dark eyes and full lips. He smiled at her, and she hurriedly looked away.
He leaned close to her. “I’m surprised you’re sitting here by yourself. Wouldn’t a beautiful woman like you have men begging to spend time with her? Or do you reject their advances, Hallie?”
She blushed, but she felt a slight chill run through her. Nicholas was getting a little too personal too quickly. She did reject any man who approached her because she wanted to be left alone. But how did he know? And why would be bring it up? “I—I just like to sit by myself. I’m sorry, I have to get going now. I’ll see you on Sunday. We can meet here at two o’clock, if you like.” She rose.
He also stood, gazing at her, then reached out and took her hand. He smiled again. “Whatever you wish, Hallie,” he said softly. “I’ll be waiting.”
Then Hallie felt an odd sensation—cold and wet—in the hand he was holding. She hurriedly moved her hand away and saw a faint sheen of ice fade from Nicholas’ palm. She looked at him in surprise. A warlock.
He narrowed his eyes, and then he leaned down and put his lips to her ear. “I
hear you can do a little more than just scribe, Hallie,” he whispered. “How does the rhyme go? What do the little girls sing?”
Hallie stepped back, looking at him in horror. She clenched her fists. “That’s not who I am now. I left all that behind. Leave me alone.”
She pushed past him, purposely shoving him with her shoulder, then hurried to the door. She didn’t look back, just hurled the door open and rushed outside. She heard laughter in her wake and felt her blood boil. How did he know? How did he find her? And who was he? She ran into the warm night, heading home, clutching her small bag to her as she raced. The last thing she ever needed was to be reminded of her past. The last thing she needed was to become upset. Lest she cast a spell. Lest she hurt someone.
But as she neared her home, she felt her magic pulsing inside of her. No! Don’t come out! No! She hurried down the path to her neat, wooden home and had barely shut the door behind her when a huge wave of light poured out of her. The room glowed in silver radiance as it shone from Hallie’s chest, making her arch her back and freeze on the spot, and then she slumped against the door, the light fading. She struggled to breathe, beginning to sob as all her emotions caught up with her. Dammit, why did this happen! She didn’t want any trouble. She didn’t want to face any problems alone.
But she was alone. Sean wasn’t going to rescue her now. All she had was herself. The realization made her heart break. She was truly, truly on her own, and if Nicholas was going to cause her trouble, she just had to face it herself. Maybe he was just a cruel man, wanting to bring about a reaction in her. Maybe he wanted nothing more.
But, deep down, she didn’t think so.
***
Nicholas stood outside of Hallie’s home, watching as he saw the enormous glow fade from her windows. He’d magically transported there shortly after she’d run out of the tavern, and had waited for her to arrive. He wasn’t disappointed by the display. He’d suspected she was a High Witch, the one written about in the journal. Seeing such magic come out of her, without her even trying, only confirmed what she was. A regular witch didn’t have that kind of power. He’d found her.
Just what he needed for his revenge.
Chapter 3
Brayden stood in his bedroom later that evening, watching as Rachel, a healer, looked over his wife.
Ariel lay on the bed after the middle-aged, dark-haired woman had given her a potion as part of a spell to check on the baby.
Rachel put her hand on Ariel’s stomach, waiting quietly, then a faint glow radiated above Ariel’s belly. The healer smiled at them. “Your baby is perfectly healthy,” Rachel said, sitting back. The bed sagged a little under her large frame, and the bracelets at her wrists jangled as she put the glass bottle with the potion into her satchel.
Brayden took Ariel’s hand. “What do you mean? What about what’s happening?”
“I’ll get to that in a moment,” Rachel said. “What I can tell you now is Ariel’s temperature is fine, her breathing is good, she isn’t feeling any pain, and the potion revealed a yellow glow, which is a sign the child is in good health. If he or she was unwell, the glow would have been green or blue. From what I can tell, things are fine.”
Ariel was suddenly propelled high over the bed and then she fell back down with a thump. She gasped loudly, trying to catch her breath.
Brayden hurried to sit beside her. “Then what do you call that!” he exclaimed. “If she’s fine, then I’m a turnip.”
Rachel murmured, rubbing her chin. She took Ariel’s hand after she sat up. “Are you alright, dear?”
Ariel nodded, her breathing finally calming down.
The healer frowned. “I know the baby is healthy. The fact that he or she is able to project magic from within Ariel is something I’ve never seen. A pregnancy of a magical child is usually like any other—a baby can’t use magic in the womb. Oh, there are illnesses a mother of a magical child can get that won’t strike a mother of a non-magical baby, and vice versa. But the pregnancy won’t really be different due to child being a warlock or witch. They just don’t have the ability to use magic until after they’re born—and even then, it can take a long time for powers to manifest. Unless…”
“Unless what?” both Brayden and Ariel said.
Rachel frowned again. “Well, you are a High Witch, my dear. It could be possible your pregnancy is different for some reason. Although, many a High Witch has had a child before without trouble like this. In the end, I can’t answer why your unborn child is able to use magic. The only thing I can suggest is casting a spell to bind their powers.”
Ariel gazed at her and then her features formed a frown. She took Brayden’s hand. “I don’t like the sound of that,” she said. “Bind them for how long?”
“Just until after they’re born. It’s a spell you can cast yourself—in fact, with your powers, it would be an even more powerful spell. You would take a store of your power—set aside some of your strength, if you will—and use that to bind the child’s magic so they can’t use it. It does mean, however, your own magic will be less potent, as you’re dividing it up. It’s up to you if you wish to do it. I can teach you how.”
Brayden and Ariel sat in silence, thinking. Brayden wanted to go ahead with the plan—he didn’t like the thought of their child potentially hurting Ariel. It sounded right to him.
But Ariel was still frowning, her hand on her heart, looking distressed. She finally met his gaze. “I don’t want to do it.”
“Ariel! Why? Are you sure?”
She sighed. “I don’t like the sound of it—tying up our baby’s magic. What if it’s irreversible? What if something goes wrong? Their magic is part of who they are. I’m not binding it. I can deal with it when she does something to me. I’m not doing it—there’s no way.”
Brayden gulped, fear running through him. Ariel wasn’t even showing yet and the child could practically throw her across the room. What about when she was a few more months along? How strong would the baby’s magic be then? He put his hands on Ariel’s upper arms, making her look at him. “Can you at least think about it? Rachel can tell you how to cast the spell, just in case. You might need to do it later on. Please, Ariel, don’t rule it out completely.”
She leaned forward and kissed him gently. “It’ll be fine. She won’t hurt me. Trust me, Brayden, it’ll be okay. But I’ll learn how to cast the spell, if it’ll make you feel better. Alright?”
He nodded, feeling sick to his stomach. He went and stood by the window, watching as Rachel gave Ariel instructions for the binding spell. Brayden paid Rachel her healer’s fee, and then she said good-bye to them and left.
Ariel rose and went into the front room, sitting down on the settee, motioning for Brayden to join her. The space was lit with candles spread out over the wooden cabinet against the wall and over the mantle of the fireplace across the room. The area contained the soft brown furniture, a low table, and near the fireplace, a bookshelf and a large wooden chest. There was a beige rug before the hearth, and Ariel liked to keep a vase of flowers on the chest.
Brayden brought her into a hug and held her tightly. “I’m worried,” he said, his mouth against her hair. “I don’t want anything to go wrong. I want you and the baby to be alright.”
Ariel looked at him, putting her hand on his face. “You’re not angry with the baby, are you? It’s not her fault.”
Brayden frowned. “I’m not—I… I…” He sighed. “I don’t know, Ariel. I know it’s not her fault, but I don’t want her to hurt you. Maybe you can handle it when she does something magical, but it horrifies me. What if she transports you somewhere awful and something bad happens?”
“I’ll transport back,” Ariel said, smiling. “I’ll be fine. You’re not trusting me—I’d know if something sinister was going on. It’s fine. Believe me. Why don’t you believe me? After all we’ve been through?”
He looked at her earnestly, his heart filling up with affection. “Oh, my love, I do believe you,” he whispered, kissi
ng her deeply. He buried his hand in her hair, overcome with emotion. She held onto him as they kissed, and Brayden felt moisture behind his eyelids. He pulled away, worried about her.
She looked at him fondly, taking his hands in hers. “I can’t wait to meet her. She’ll be so lovely. This is just… a bump in the road. I don’t want you to worry. Trust me.”
Brayden half-smiled, looking down. He tried to believe her, tried to see things her way. They sat there for a while, then went to bed early, both of them tired after such an unusual day. Brayden lay there, trying to drift off to sleep. He wanted to trust Ariel. He want to believe everything would be alright. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something very strange was happening.
***
Brayden was watching Ariel sleep several hours later. Moonlight shone into the room, enabling him to see that she looked peaceful and calm. He was pleased she was able to rest, pleased she wasn’t worried. But none of this was sitting right with him.
He wondered if their baby was a High Witch. It wasn’t possible—another High Witch would have to die for a new one to be born, and they’d already lost Nadia and nearly Ariel in such a short space of time. Besides, a new High Witch was born the instant one died—at that exact moment. The baby wouldn’t be showing power in the womb—they wouldn’t be a High Witch at that stage. It was only at birth. Somewhere out there, there was a baby who was a High Witch because Nadia had died. The baby would be about four months old.
Of course, Ariel had died too, Brayden thought. It was true—she had. The test had killed her, but she came back, so there couldn’t be a High Witch born because of her death.
But a High Witch is born the instant one dies. Ariel was dead for several moments. Ariel had died.
Brayden sat up, staring at her. Could it be? Could it? What if the rules were changed? What if passing the test changed the way things worked? What if, instead of three High Witches…
There were four?
