“You must do what you believe is right; that is your gift and curse,” said Chiara, placing her finished cigarette into an ashtray on the table.
Ari was just about to ask what the right thing to do was, when a sudden look of horror swept over Chiara’s face.
“Chiara?” asked Ari.
Chiara did not respond at first. Her eyes flickered manically; when finally she opened them, they were ghostly white. Ari was just about to call for help when Chiara spoke. Her voice was hoarse like sandpaper, and again Ari felt the crackle of electricity all around her.
“I see a blood bond; close but far away… kin but not friend,” said Chiara.
As soon as Chiara spoke, the back of Ari’s hand burnt and she held it up to examine it. Inscribed across her palm was a strange black symbol, Ari had never seen before. It looked like the illustration of a gothic sun, with black curls coming from a central circle; inside the black circle was four stars and something else… an intricate twist of white lines that spurred from the centre and intertwined to form a never ending loop.
“My hand…” she mumbled, but Chiara didn’t seem to hear her.
“You will know them soon,” Chiara added, dragging Ari’s attention back to her and the whites of her eyes.
Ari screwed up her face in confusion; what did that mean? There was something familiar about the empty white eyes that stared back at her, and she raked her brains trying desperately to remember what it was. Then a vision she’d had months ago came to her. It wasn’t a vision exactly, more like a dream she had forgotten. She remembered standing in a room with three vampires, while an elderly lady with the same white eyes as Chiara, was questioned. Now as she recalled the dream, she knew exactly who the vampires had been- the Ancients. In the vision the elderly lady had warned Ari to run and hide.
Reaching for Chiara’s hand and pulling her from her trance, Ari said, “I’ve seen someone else do that before.”
Chiara looked up suddenly and said, “What do you mean? What happened?”
“You just went into a sort of trance. You told me that I would know someone soon that was kin but not friend, and I have seen someone else do that before. It was months ago; when I was back in Australia. I saw the Ancients, at least I think it was the Ancients… they were torturing an old woman. In the dream her eyes went white, just like yours did then, and then she warned me to run.”
“She communicated with you during a vision?” asked Chiara, her face losing what little colour it had left, so that it almost perfectly matched her long white hair.
“Yes.”
“It is a powerful seer who can do such a thing. At any time prophecy may grip a witch, to warn of things to come, but I know of only one with ability to be able to communicate with a future self,” she said, standing suddenly and moving over to an old stained dresser and retrieving a small photograph.
Chiara handed the photo to Ari. It was black and white, and clearly from many, many years ago. There were seven girls in the image, all wearing long, high necked dresses, and each smiling merrily back at the photographer.
“That’s me,” said Chiara, pointing to a girl no more than twenty years old. “And this,” she added, pointing to a girl in the front row, “is Maureen. She is the only witch I know with enough power to communicate through a premonition.”
Ari looked at the young woman Chiara had indicated, squinting so as to make out any obvious features. The woman Ari had seen in her dream was elderly and frail looking, while the girls in this picture were young and vivacious.
“She went missing almost thirty years ago,” Chiara added, taking the photograph off Ari and staring at it for a while. “If the Ancients have her that might explain how they knew that a Grandor descendant was alive. The girls in that photo are the living relatives of the original witches who placed the protection spell on the Grandor line. Few else know of your existence. But, but it is troubling to think that the Ancients have access to such a powerful witch; perhaps it is time we stopped living under the shadows and became part of the solution.”
Just then there was a sudden thud and both Chiara and Ari turned to see Lea and Chris bounding down the stairs, their hands piled high with many worn and aged books.
“I need to lie down,” said Chiara, standing and walking over to her granddaughter. “The premonition I had… it has drained me. But I am grateful that you bought the girl to see me. She is the Grandor descendent and you must protect her,” she said, before beginning the long climb up the stairs, suddenly looking very fragile, as if she had aged ten years in the course of a few minutes.
“Premonition?” asked Lea, but Chiara did not reply. “But the blood hunter curse, how do I know what I’m looking for?”
“When you find it, you will know,” Chiara called back in a croaky voice, before muttering under her breath, “blood candy and part-wraiths; maybe it’s time we fought back. Too much has happened in our absence, we must control the shadows… before they control us-”
“-sorry, grans a little, um, well… crazy,” said Lea, when they could no longer hear the creaking of the wooden stairs or her ranting’s. “What did she mean about a premonition?”
Ari recalled the whites of Chiara’s eyes when she had been trapped in her vision. She had no idea what Chiara had meant. Kin but not friend; that sounded like someone who was related to Ari… and what else had she said, that she would know them soon?
“I don’t know?” said Ari. “It was weird.”
“Anyway,” said Lea, reaching for her tea and taking a sip of the now cold liquid. “This is everything we could find.”
Ari reached for the nearest book and flipped it open, and Chris and Lea followed suit. Soon each of them had their heads bent low, their eyes roaming the large volumes, scanning the pages for any mention of the blood hunter curse.
Ari had been scanning the pages of a book entitled ‘Known Immortals’, when she flipped to an image she recognised- the sun and stars that she had seen glowing only moments ago in the palm of her hand. Having forgotten all about the black symbol following Chiara’s strange prediction, Ari now looked down but frowned. The symbol which had only moments ago been etched there had now vanished.
“What’s wrong?” asked Chris, leaning across her shoulder and scanning the page she had been reading. “Have you found something?”
“No,” said Ari, still frowning at her hand, “it’s just… when I was speaking with Lea’s gran she had a sort of vision. Her eyes went white and she said something like ‘I would know a kin but not friend, soon’ and then… then a symbol appeared on my palm.”
Lea, who had stopped reading the book she held, moved over to Ari and lifted her hand.
“It’s gone,” said Ari, pulling her hand back.
“Strange,” said Lea.
“Yea, but the symbol on my hand looks exactly like-” Ari started to say, but her words were cut off when Chris whooped loudly and said, “I think I have found something!”
Both Ari and Lea turned to him and Chris held out the book he had been reading. Ari looked down at the worm and ratty page, squinting slightly as she tried to make out the cursive handwriting.
“That’s it,” said Lea, snatching the book from Chris and placing it on the coffee table; all three pressed their heads close together and read.
The Blood Hunter Curse
Deep of darkest, darkest of deep,
In the pages the curse doth sleep.
The Clergy binds with hammer and ink,
Burning shan’t break the Crown link
And from the ashes the words shall rise,
Thus the curse, broke or bound, might be revised
“What the hell does that mean?” asked Chris, looking up at Lea and Ari in confusion.
Ari shrugged.
“It’s a riddle,” said Lea, now flipping back a few pages. “It says here that the original witch who placed the curse made a safety clause, one that ensured the curse could be removed if a blood hunter ever became too powerful,”
said Lea.
“Great! What?” Ari asked.
Lea flipped the page over, reading and re-reading the riddle.
“The suspense is killing me,” said Chris, craning his neck so as to try and see snippets of the text.
Lea frowned, looking up from the riddle and saying, “Well, we need to work out what this riddle means. Let’s just think about it logically.”
“How obvious,” said Chris, shaking his head, “and to think, I was being so illogical- what was I thinking?”
Lea ignored him and said, “Well the riddle mentions pages, so the curse must be written down somewhere.”
“This is you being logical?” asked Chris, laughing at his own joke. “Where else would it be written down? On toilet paper… though I suppose, that would still count as pages, or leaflets. Ari, what do you think?”
“Oh shut-up,” said Lea.
“The Clergy binds with hammer and ink?” said Ari, reading a line of the book. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know; lets come back to it,” said Lea. “Burning shan’t break the Crown link.”
“As in burning the book won’t destroy it?” Ari questioned.
“Yea maybe,” said Lea, her face screwed up in concentration.
“What about in reference to the witch trials,” suggested Chris, and both Lea and Ari turned to face him. “You know, like the Crown witches were at threat of being burnt at the stake, so they put the curse somewhere that it would be safe. Unless, of course, they are referring to un-burnable toilet paper-”
“-I was just starting to think how clever you are-” but Lea’s words suddenly broke off. She was staring at Chris, her mouth slightly open. Suddenly she leapt to her feet and yelled, “Chris you are a genius!”
“I knew it, the old un-burnable toilet paper,” he replied. “Those cunning witches!”
“The Clergy binds with hammer and ink!” said Lea, clapping a hand to her forehead, “I am such an idiot!”
“I think I missed a step,” said Chris, looking at Ari who was nodding in confusion. “I thought we were talking about toilet paper?”
“Ok,” said Lea, now pacing around the room excitedly. “The first Crown witch passed the curse down through her line, but when the witch trials happened, the Crown witches knew that they might all be killed, so they put the curse somewhere safe, so that it would survive even if they did not,” Lea explained.
“So where did they put it?” asked Ari.
“Where else do you put a spell that needs to be able to survive throughout the ages, when there are witch trials everywhere and no witch or her book of light is safe?” Lea asked.
“I’m guessing it’s not n toilet paper,” Chris snickered.
“No stupid. The Clergy binds with hammer and ink… Malleus Maleficarum… It quite literally translates into ‘The witches hammer’ and it was created by the clergy,” Lea explained.
Chris said, “Bless you,” at the same time that Ari asked, “What?”
“Malleus Maleficarum; it was written in the late 1400’s by the clergy; it was a book that detailed exactly how to hunt and kill a witch,” said Lea.
“So you think the Crown witches used that book to protect the blood hunter curse?” asked Ari.
“Exactly,” Lea said. “It makes perfect sense and the riddle fits.”
“But how does that help us?” said Chris.
“Because the details of the curse were kept safe inside it,” Lea explained. “Just like the riddle says, in the pages the curse doth sleep. They must have known that the book would be preserved in time, even if all the witches were killed and their possessions burned. So if the spell was needed in the future, a witch could use it.”
“But how did they put a spell in this Marvelous Malesfig… whatever it’s called, if it is full of descriptions on how to kill witches?” said Ari. “Surely a witches’ spell would stand out.”
“Malleus Maleficarum,” Lea corrected. “They must have written the spell in magic, so that the humans couldn’t read it; that way all copies of the book would hold the details of the curse. It would be just like my book of light, on the outside it looks just like a regular biology textbook. It’s only when you activate the spell that you can see what it really contains.”
Finally Ari understood and said, “Because the witches were afraid that all their own books would be burnt by the witch hunters, so they wrote it on a book that they knew would not be destroyed.”
“Exactly,” Lea said smiling. “This means that all we need to do is to get our hands on an original copy and we should be able to find a way to read the curse… then we can reverse it!”
Ari’s face fell and she said, “How the hell are we going to find a five hundred year old book?”
“That’s where we’re in luck,” said Lea. “I saw a copy in the reference section of the library at the Pasteur Institute. But we will have to break in; I did an assignment on the witch trials last year, and even with a note from my professor, I wasn’t allowed to examine the book without a librarian holding my hand. It’s kept on the top level of the Art and History library, in a large glass cabinet.”
Chapter 26 – The Three W’s
The trip back to the Pasteur Institute via Air-Chris went smoothly enough. Ari had managed to hold onto Chris’s hand the entire time. When the three appeared in Chris’s room, she immediately stood up, staggering a little from the effort of the journey, but all in all, felt nowhere near as disorientated as their from their first trip.
“Ok, so we need to go to the library,” said Ari, glancing across the room at a small clock, which told her the time was just after midnight.
“Ari,” Lea said slowly, “don’t you want to talk about what gran said?”
Ari had moved towards the door excitedly, but at Lea’s words had glanced back curiously and said, “Of course I do! That’s why we need to get to the library.”
“I think Lea is referring to her grandmother’s declaration that you are a modern day Buffy the vampire slayer,” said Chris, his voice sounding tired.
Lea nodded and added, “I mean, are you sure you want to go up against this blood hunter? What if… what if something happens to you?”
“How can you ask that?” said Ari. “Learning what I am doesn’t change the fact that my friend is being tortured. Your gran said it herself; I am supposed to kill vampires. I might as well start with the blood hunter who wants to kill Thomas and Sandra.”
“I know it’s just…” said Lea, chewing on her bottom lip, “you have a higher purpose. It’s your destiny to protect the innocent from vampires; not save vampires from other vampires.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Ari. “Sandra is innocent. What, you think that because of what I can do, I can’t love vampires? That they aren’t worth loving?”
Ari wasn’t just thinking of Sandra; she was thinking of Ragon. If her destiny meant that she couldn’t be with him, then she didn’t want anything to do with it.
“That’s just my point,” said Lea. “Sandra was innocent, but she was turned into a vampire. If she had of never been made, then she wouldn’t be suffering right now. She might have led a full and happy life. Don’t you see? If you can get rid of all the vampires, then no one else has to suffer again? You were given these gifts for a reason; this isn’t just about you. There are so many hundreds of thousands of people that have been killed by vampires.”
“You don’t know what you are talking about! Sandra was dying when she met Thomas. The only way he could save her life was by turning her into a vampire. And she wouldn’t have lived a full and happy life. Her husband was a sadist. She said she would have preferred death, than to live a single day as his wife. And Ragon… he saved my life. If he wasn’t a vampire, there wouldn’t be a Grandor descendant. It’s not as black and white as you think it is.”
Ari sighed and turned to look at Chris. She was surprised that Chris wasn’t arguing with her also. It was no secret that he hated vampires as much as Lea did… and
none more so than Ragon.
“Chris are you alright?” asked Ari; Chris had sat down heavily onto the chair next to his desk. He was definitely paler than normal and his face had a drawn out look to it.
“Fine,” said Chris, not looking at either of them.
“You’re not fine,” said Lea, moving to him and brushing her hand against his cheek.
“Easy tiger,” said Chris, only managing a half-hearted smile, “after that secret-binding spell, I don’t know how many more advances from you I can take.”
Lea smiled weakly then turned to look at Ari, worry plain on her face.
Blood Hunter (The Grandor Descendant Series) Page 42
