The Witch Born to Ignite

by Tanya Milne

‘Jet,’ I said, looking straight ahead and walking faster.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ He moved to stand in my way. ‘Is there a fire or something?’

  ‘Something,’ I said, stepping to the side at the same time as he did.

  I let out a long sigh and glared up at him. ‘I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘Seems to me like you’re always in a mood these days.’

  ‘Did you ever consider it’s not me, it’s you?’

  ‘I did, actually, but what with my dark hair and brooding good looks, I knew it wasn’t possible.’

  I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘Nice to hear you laughing again,’ he said, the side of his devilish face pulled into a small grin.

  ‘Yeah, well, there doesn’t seem to be much to laugh about these days, does there?’ I said, remembering the new by-laws that Orpheus had put into place a day after the witchcraft incident, a week ago.

  ‘You have something there. I mean, what’s the deal with the latest one – not being allowed out without an adult chaperone past ten at night? I mean, seriously.’

  I remembered back to our morning assembly when this latest by-law had been read out to the school and the charged hush that had fallen over the room. The same fleeting silent protest; the same lasting silent acceptance.

  ‘I don’t know what’s worse, what he’s doing or how we’re all accepting it,’ I said.

  ‘Well, we don’t have to accept it,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Just as an example, we could break all the rules and go to the Easter dance together and stay out well into the witching hour.’

  Heat crept up my body.

  He doesn’t know. Stay cool.

  ‘I already have a date, sorry.’

  ‘Really? And who might the lucky fellow be? The one who stood by while you were interrogated or the poor boy with the unlucky fate of being Orpheus’s son?’

  ‘You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?’ I stepped to the side and started walking away.

  ‘Wait, please, Eva,’ he said.

  I knew I should keep walking, that he was bad news, but I found myself turning towards him.

  ‘Look, before you take off, because let’s face it, who knows how long it will take to get you on your own again, I wanted to say thanks – for not turning me in,’ he said.

  I glanced quickly around me at the other students, but they were all engrossed in their own conversations, no doubt about the stupid dance.

  ‘That’s okay,’ I said quietly, not bothering to deny what he was talking about.

  ‘You looked like you wanted to stay – that night. Did you?’

  I recalled the dark alley and the feeling of being drawn to this bad boy, but more than that, drawn to join in their witchcraft ritual.

  I shrugged. ‘Not much to do in this town.’

  Jet laughed, and suddenly all his outer edges fell away and I could see him; he looked younger and like someone I would like to get to know.

  ‘That what you think, Eva? Do you know what we got up to after you left?’

  My heart started beating faster. ‘I have no doubt that it involved the redhead.’

  ‘Jealous, are we?’

  ‘Look, as much as I would love to stand in the car park all afternoon and talk about your love life, I have to get moving. Straight home from school, you know the new drill.’

  ‘Didn’t take you as much of a law-abiding citizen. Rumour has it that Orpheus Blackthorn isn’t too happy with you.’

  My heart leapt in my chest, and I waited for a moment before I spoke. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, since you and Ezra won’t tell anyone about what happened that night out at his house, I was forced to do a little digging.’

  ‘And?’ I looked around to discover most people had cleared out and there were only a few cars left in the car park.

  ‘And one of his men was willing to tell me a thing or two, at a price.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Says he doesn’t know what you spoke about, but that Orpheus blew his top once you and Ezra drove away. Had a real hissy fit, kicking things, screaming – bit like a child having a tantrum.’

  I swallowed the lump in my throat as I pictured the scene, knowing he was speaking the truth. Before I could stop it, I imagined Ezra arriving home, what he’d endured on his own.

  ‘Seems like you’re a bit of a bad girl yourself, or at least that’s what Orpheus thinks. Has his eye firmly on you. Making sure you stay away from his one and only child.’

  ‘What?’ I said so loudly that I startled a couple of birds on the fence nearby.

  ‘Well, to be fair, he’s not the only one. Seems you have a bad habit of causing a commotion wherever you go.’

  All of a sudden, I felt sick in my stomach. ‘I have to go.’ I pushed past him and didn’t look back, didn’t respond to his pleas to stay and talk. I walked quickly, not feeling that I was totally in my own skin.

  How is Orpheus keeping an eye on me?

  I looked around at the beautiful street where apricot leaves danced as they fell to the ground. Were eyes watching me now? What might Orpheus do to my family if he found out we were witches? To Ezra?

  The image of Ezra arriving at school the day after that night filled my mind. I pictured his red-rimmed eyes staring through me as though I were a stranger, his frame hunched forward slightly as though the worries of the world now rested on his shoulders. Gone was the beautiful boy who’d kissed me. In his place was the boy who’d suffered at his father’s hands, all because of me. And what was worse, I’d let it happen.

  My shoulders drooped as I walked into my street. It was getting darker and cooler earlier now, and the shadows were falling across the street. I pictured myself closing the front door, making a hot chocolate, grabbing my book and heading to the fireplace. I was so lost in my thoughts that it took me a few moments to see the black police car sitting across the street from home, about half a block away.

  My gaze darted towards my house. The lamp in the living room looked to be on, casting a warm glow, but there was no sign of any police officers. I slowed my pace and tried to make out whether anyone was inside the dark car, waiting for me, watching me. Each of my steps sounded loud in my ears, and I resisted the temptation to turn and head in the opposite direction.

  I pulled my jacket around me and kept walking. I was nearly home when I saw them, the special police – at the home of Mrs Betty, my elderly neighbour across the street. Dear, sweet, lonely Mrs Betty, who’d baked us biscuits when we moved in, was being questioned – no, harassed – by three intimidating policemen.

  Max! There he was, across the street, leaning towards the little old lady. It was as though someone ran their finger down my spine. I stopped and watched the scene before me, frozen to the spot.

  ‘Tell me again, Mrs Betty, why aren’t you coming to church?’ said the tallest of the three cops.

  Mrs Betty’s eyes filled with tears, and her voice came out in fits and starts. ‘But I have never gone to church.’

  ‘I take it you don’t believe in God then?’ said Max, who looked as if he was enjoying every moment of this sick and twisted encounter.

  ‘I dare say that’s none of your business,’ said Mrs Betty, her words gaining strength and spite.

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong, Grandma. If you didn’t notice, you’re legally required to be at church every Sunday now. It’s the law,’ said Max.

  ‘It’s a stupid law, that’s what,’ she said, standing taller and looking Max in the eye.

  ‘Is that so, Mrs Betty?’ said Max, who took out a book and made notes. ‘Orpheus Blackthorn will be very interested to hear your thoughts on the matter.’

  Mrs Betty didn’t blink as Max stepped closer to her, pushing against her frail old body, and spoke in a low voice that I couldn’t hear.

  Enough is enough!

  Before I knew it, I was standing at her gate. ‘Hey, leave her alone.’

  Ma
x turned in my direction, a big twisted smile spreading from ear to ear. ‘If it isn’t Florence Nightingale, come to save the day.’

  I strode to stand next to Mrs Betty, put one arm around her and held her hand with my other. ‘Come with me, Mrs Betty.’

  Mrs Betty looked up at my face, her watery old eyes as surprised as the police around me.

  ‘I didn’t say she could leave,’ said Max, narrowing his eyes at me.

  ‘Haven’t you scared this dear old defenceless woman enough? Shame on you, Max,’ I said, the words not sounding as though they came from me.

  Max inhaled sharply as my words struck a chord. I ploughed on. ‘I was just coming to get Mrs Betty because she’s having dinner at our place. Come now, Mrs Betty.’ Mrs Betty clutched my hand as we walked down the pathway.

  ‘We haven’t finished,’ shouted Max, something in his voice bringing us to a halt.

  I turned to Max. ‘What other Christian things do you have to say, huh? Or would you prefer to give Mrs Betty a coronary?’

  ‘I can live with myself just fine, if that’s what you’re worried about. But, Mrs Betty, if you’re not at church on Sunday, the boys and I will be forced to take you to the station,’ said Max.

  Mrs Betty went stiff under my arm.

  ‘Is that it?’ I said.

  ‘Eva, what am I going to do about you? Always just happen to be in the midst of trouble,’ said Max.

  ‘You can leave me the hell alone,’ I said, turning away from the three sets of wide eyes and helping Mrs Betty across the street and into my house.

  The moment we walked through the door, Mrs Betty sagged against me, and I held tightly onto her as we walked to the chair in the living room, where I sat her down and put a blanket over her.

  ‘You rest, Mrs Betty,’ I said quietly. ‘I’ll get us some nice warm drinks.’

  Mrs Betty patted my hand and nodded at me, her folded and wrinkled skin the colour of ash.

  I hurried around the room, drawing the curtains, starting the fire and turning on the lamps. Then, with one last look at Mrs Betty, who’d closed her eyes, I left her and went to the kitchen. I poured her some scotch from my parents’ liquor cabinet, made us hot chocolates and gathered together a selection of food. I loaded everything onto a large platter and carried it back into the living room, then settled it in front of Mrs Betty, who’d opened her eyes and watched me intently.

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ said Mrs Betty, taking the offered scotch and drinking it in one quick nip. ‘Ah, that’s better.’ She accepted her hot chocolate and settled back into the couch, colour returning to her face.

  I sat down beside her and sipped my drink, the sweet chocolate flavour igniting my senses, filling me with warmth.

  ‘How can I thank you, darling girl? I hate to think of what would have happened if you weren’t there.’

  ‘No need, Mrs Betty. Those men were beasts.’

  Mrs Betty laughed, a rich, soulful laugh that sounded as though it belonged to someone who had truly lived. ‘Yes, they were, but please call me Violet.’

  I turned to Violet and there, beneath the creases and the puffiness, were her dark-violet eyes that had spent a lifetime smiling. That’s when the lines of age between us melted away and I knew that we’d become friends.

  ‘Your parents chose the perfect name for you, Violet.’

  She chuckled. ‘You are an observant one, aren’t you? My dear parents had chosen another name for me – Delilah, would you believe. But when they saw the colour of my eyes, the rest, as they say, is history. You could be called the same name, dear.’

  I picked up the tray of food, and Violet took a biscuit.

  ‘You know, you’re a very brave girl,’ she said.

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘No, it’s true,’ she said, her voice becoming firm. ‘Taking on three of those beastly men like that, whisking me away from under their noses. That took gumption.’

  I nibbled on my biscuit. No one had ever called me brave.

  ‘Particularly that Max fellow,’ she continued. ‘The others, they may have been fools, but they were following orders. But Max, well, he was enjoying himself.’

  I remembered back to being interrogated by him and watching him get off on what he was doing, how he was making me feel. ‘I know what you mean, Violet. He’s one sick and twisted man.’

  ‘You need to watch out for that one, dear. I’m afraid he has his eye on you.’

  Something inside me twisted and turned. ‘I wish I could disagree with you, but that wasn’t our first meeting, and I doubt it will be our last.’

  ‘Just promise me that you won’t stir him up. I dread to think what he’s capable of.’

  I took another bite of my biscuit, no longer tasting it. ‘What the hell is happening in this town?’ I said.

  Violet put down her cup and turned to me. ‘Believe it or not, I’ve seen this kind of thing before. One day an ordinary kind of place, the next ruled by an insane and power-hungry dictator who’ll stop at nothing to control everything and everyone.’

  I’d studied history and I knew the truth to her words. I sat back in my chair and looked at the fire that hissed and crackled in the grate. ‘It’s only just begun, hasn’t it?’

  Violet put her hand on mine. ‘I’m afraid so, dear.’ She spoke quietly and sadly. That’s when I knew that whilst it was bad now, it was only going to get worse. Jet’s words rang in my ears. ‘He’s watching you.’ No doubt, the little incident across the road only made things worse, drew his eye even closer to me.

  ‘To get through this, I think we’re probably best to toe the line, try not to be seen. Those who are seen are the targets. I may be able to slide back into the shadows, but you, well, you’ll need to be more careful,’ said Violet.

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was too big. ‘I think it’s too late for me. There have been some…issues at school with Orpheus Blackthorn and his lackey. Let’s just say that I’m already a person of interest.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Violet, her body drooping like an unwatered flower. ‘That’s no good at all. But there’s still time, and you can always rely on the fading of memory. You keep out of trouble and in a few months, I’m sure they’ll have moved on.’

  Violet’s voice wavered on her last few words, and I knew then that I was in serious trouble – her words were not the truth, meant only for reassurance.

  ‘I can only hope,’ I said.

  ‘I won’t lie, you’re going to be hard to keep under wraps. I don’t think I’ve ever known such a pretty girl before.’

  My skin felt as though it caught on fire. ‘Hardly.’

  ‘My eyes have seen many things, dear, and I know what I see when I look at you. A beautiful girl, inside and outside, with the light of a fire burning bright. You will attract them all – the good, the bad and the ugly.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I managed to stutter out.

  ‘Well, I know so,’ she said, her voice and words even. ‘So you, my dear, will have to work particularly hard to stay out of trouble, unless…’

  ‘Unless what?’

  She picked up her drink and looked into the crackling fire, as though carefully choosing her next words. ‘Unless you don’t try to hide. Unless you fight fire with fire.’

  ‘What? What do you mean?’

  She turned and looked at me, her watery, wise eyes burning into mine. ‘I’m not exactly sure what this means, yet I know it to be true. I see the fire inside you, Eva, and in life you can do one of two things with fire. You can either be fearful and try to stamp it out, or you can use it to become the person you’re supposed to be.’

  Her words hit me hard, and I sat back. The question I’d been asking since the moment I found out I was a witch now finally demanded an answer. I could pretend to hide away, pretend to be someone I was not, but I wouldn’t be living. I would be scared. Or I could become who I was always meant to be, who my birthright demanded of me. I could watch on as Orpheus and his special police inti
mated old ladies, or I could step forward and try to do something to protect the innocent. I could do nothing, or I could take on the dangerous man who spread fear and poison through this town.

  ‘Fire with fire,’ I murmured, the room suddenly changed, now filled with a charge that was not there only moments before.

  ‘In that case, Eva, you’re going to need to be even more careful. Hide right under the nose of your enemy.’

  My heart jumped as the front door opened and someone stepped inside. It was too early for Mum and Dad, and Elijah wasn’t due for hours.

  Violet sat forward, her voice wobbling. ‘Who is it, dear?’

  ‘Let me see,’ I said, braver than I felt, as I stood and started towards the front door.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Pearl snuggled up beside me on my bed. I glanced again towards my bedroom door to check it was locked. In my hands, I held my family’s very old book on witchcraft, passed down from one generation of my family to another. I ran my fingers over the five-pointed star symbol on the velvet cover, wondering at its meaning.

  ‘Well, Pearl, what do you think? Time to find out who I am?’

  Pearl looked up at me, her green eyes glowering into mine.

  Deep inside me I felt a flickering spark of electricity. Once I opened the book, there would be no turning back. And I would be breaking my promise to my family. I felt the kick of this. They were only being protective. Even tonight when my mum came home from work early – scaring the living daylights out of me and Violet – and found out what had happened, she’d been so kind and caring to us both, mothering us like a hen. By the time Violet went home after dinner, she had colour in her cheeks and a bounce in her step.

  I took a long breath and blocked them out. My decision had been made. There was no turning back. I turned the page and reread the letter from one of my ancestors called Ethel, from 1877. It seemed almost impossible to believe that someone had sat at a table all those years ago and shared the secrets of an ancient, powerful, yet hidden way of being.

  Hidden for a reason.

  I turned the page again and there, in black ink, was the number one and the word EARTH. I blinked a few times. Underneath the heading were more words. I looked down and started to read.