by A. N. Sage
I nodded, my excitement rising. Peyton’s attitude was definitely infectious.
“She said that they never really left. She thinks whoever these mystery strangers were, they’re still here. Or at least a part of them.”
“Like their kids or something?”
“Great, great-grandkids more like it! But yeah!” She exclaimed, “Isn’t that cool?”
“I guess…”
The car accelerated and we sped by a group of students gathered outside a cafe. My eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to spot River in the midst, which was stupid since I wanted nothing to do with him and his friends. Then why was I even bothering to check?
“What you thinking?” Peyton asked and I realized I’d been staring out the window the entire for longer than necessary.
“Just that it makes sense now, how much this town likes all this paranormal stuff.”
“Told you!” Peyton grinned. “But wait till you see where we’re going, you’re gonna freak!”
“Where exactly are we going?”
Peyton swerved the car again and pumped the gas. “Crystal Cauldron, of course. It’s time you saw this place and its glory!”
The Crystal Cauldron was located smack dab in the center of Main Street and I felt way too exposed following Peyton down the busy street. Shoppers filled every inch of the sidewalk; picking out knick-knacks from display tables and laughing with their friends. It was so busy that it almost made Shadowhurst feel like a big city. Almost. The tiny shops with cheerful window displays and intricately hand-drawn signs on the windows were nothing like the cold, modern storefronts back home but I had to admit, I loved how they looked lining the streets. We passed at least three different coffee shops as we walked that all smelled delicious and a cute restaurant terrace with the name “Handsome Devil” running across the small iron fence that surrounded it. Peyton guaranteed that this place had the best steak in town so I vowed to come back later for dinner, if this Handsome Devil was serving up good meat, I was in!
The sun was high in the sky and it was a surprisingly hot day by Shadowhurst standards. The town that was in perpetual Fall was starting to feel like a sauna today and I was ready to call it quits when Peyton paused in front of a dusty, glass door. She turned back to me and wiggled her eyebrows. “This is it!”
My gaze flew from her to the small sign hanging off metal chains above the doorway and my heart skipped a beat. The font was the same handwritten style as the rest of the shops but what caught my eye was the cute drawing of a bubbling cauldron with a witch’s hat in its center. I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous way paranormal shops portrayed my kind. I mean, no one actually used a cauldron or wore stupid pointy hats like that. It was impractical.
The bell rang as we walked in and I was struck with an overwhelming scent of peach wood and patchouli. Looking around, I was glad Peyton had forced us to skip school to come here. The Crystal Cauldron, though still very much a small-town shop, was the closest to home I’ve felt since I arrived at Shadowhurst. It was tiny, about the size of my bedroom in the guesthouse, and filled to the brim with everything one might expect from an occult shop. Shelves lined the walls on either side, full of crystals and tarot decks and dried herbs. Passing by them, I could feel my magic pull in all directions as though it was trying to decide which element to latch onto first. The Crystal Cauldron had the distinct scent of myrrh and chamomile and I couldn’t help but smile as I walked through, inspecting every item on the shelves. It smelled like home.
I spotted a small, glass counter at the far end of the shop with a few display cases of crystal jewelry atop it. More dried herbs hung from the ceiling over the counter in an array of bushels ready to be picked. My eyes slid to a small door behind the counter adorned with leaves carved into the wood.
“Why are we here again?” I whispered, eyes never leaving the door.
Peyton smiled and pulled me forward. “Because if anyone knows what happened to that kid, it’s Ms. Broussard. She knows all the good gossip!”
She jogged to the counter while I walked awkwardly behind her, careful not to knock anything over with my backpack. As soon as Peyton reached the counter’s edge, the door behind it swung open and a gust of dust burst into the air. I shielded my mouth with my sleeve, coughing into it to clear my throat. When I thought I’d be able to breathe without choking, I looked up to survey the small woman that perched in the doorway. She looked to be almost in her seventies, which you’d never know by looking at her smooth, caramel skin. The only thing that gave her age away was the white hair that was messily wound into a bun atop her head. She meandered in the manner of someone not used to keeping up with time and I noticed rows of beaded bracelets adorning her frail arm just under the long, loose blouse she wore. Her gray eyes, full of time and wisdom, lit up when she noticed Peyton.
“Miss Ling!” The woman exclaimed. “Welcome back!”
“Hi, Ms. Broussard.” Peyton nodded and stepped to the side to reveal me. “This is my friend, Billie. She’s new here.”
Ms. Broussard’s eyes landed on me and she tipped her thin nose upward to motion me forward. Hesitantly, I took a few steps to stand next to Peyton, relieved for the distance the glass counter put between me and the woman. Ms. Broussard reached over the counter and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before I could jump back. “Welcome to the Crystal Cauldron, Billie,” she whispered.
The tone of her gruff voice gave me pause and I felt like I had met this woman before though I knew well that it was just my nerves talking. Something about being surrounded with all the knick-knacks in the shop and my magic on overdrive made me uneasy. It was like I was torn between running and staying.
“Thank you,” I said after a lengthy pause, “it’s quite the shop you have here.”
“Do you like it?” Peyton asked.
“I really do. We have a lot of these in Stamwick so it’s nice to be somewhere familiar for a change.”
Ms. Broussard’s eyes widened when I mentioned my hometown and she turned to the jewelry counter, running her slender fingers over the dangling necklaces. The crystals bounced off each other, drawing my attention to them immediately. “I see you’ve found what you’re looking for,” the shop owner said and snatched an amethyst pendant off the display. She pushed the necklace my way and I shook my head.
“Oh, no,” I blurted, “we’re just browsing. Though I wouldn’t mind picking up a few things for fun later.”
“On the house.” Ms. Broussard winked. “Think of it as a welcome gift.”
I wanted to refuse her kind gesture but something about the way she kept waving the pendant told me the shop owner would not take no for an answer. Despite my mind telling me to walk away, I stretched out my hand and took the necklace from her. My fingers curled around the crystal and I felt my magic calm. The energy of the amethyst flowed through me, digging its roots into my core. My mind stopped racing and my shoulders relaxed as my knees got weak beneath the weight of my body. Goddess, how I missed this. I unlatched the clasp of the pendant and fastened it around my neck, turning to Peyton for approval.
“You wear it well.” Ms. Broussard winked again before returning her attention to Peyton. “And how can I help you, Miss Ling?”
Peyton’s cheeks blushed and she rubbed one of her finger tattoos so hard I thought she was trying to scrub it off. “We, um…” She paused. “Wanted to know if you heard the latest news?”
“You’re referring to the murder plastered all over the papers, I assume?” The shop owner asked.
Peyton nodded and I followed suit. “Peyton said you can help us figure out who it was.”
“Child,” Ms. Broussard said and widened her smile to reveal a row of broken, blackened teeth. “I’ve lived in this town for almost seventy years, there is little I do not know.”
“So you know who it was?”
“Why does that matter to you?” The shop owner asked, her leer sharpened.
“Just wondering,” Peyton said without mi
ssing a beat. “Juicy gossip is what I live for!”
The shop owner laughed and I swore I could hear the shelves rattle from the sound. Her brow furrowed and she tore her eyes from me to look out past us and into the busy street outside. “Such a shame,” she cooed, “such a young life to lose.”
“So you do know?” I gulped. “Who it was?”
“Well, of course, I do,” Ms. Broussard snapped.
“Told you…” Peyton whispered my way. “Who was it?”
The tension in the shop dissipated as Ms. Broussard lowered her eyes and rested her hands on the counter. Her fingers tapped on the glass, sending shivers down my spine but the cool touch of the amethyst on my chest relaxed me. “Grady Sanderson,” she nodded. “His poor family.”
“Holy crap!” Peyton yelped, “Grady? Really?”
“Who’s Grady?”
“One of the juniors. I think River and Tyler knew him pretty well, actually. That sucks.”
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” I asked.
Before I could stop her, the woman reached over and patted my chest where the crystal pendant lay against my skin. “Only that whoever is responsible for the untimely end of these students’ lives is not someone you want to cross. You girls should be careful out there, evil is afoot in Shadowhurst.”
The Only Witch in Shadowhurst
Despite Peyton’s insistence to drive me home, I decided to walk. She fought me but in the end, left the matter alone and promised to pick me up for school tomorrow since I left my bike behind when we rushed off.
Shadowhurst evenings were much cooler than those back home and I found myself speed walking down the darkening suburban streets as I made my way back to the Chandler residence. At some point, I’d need to think of something else to call that place that wasn’t such a mouthful. I turned on one of the streets, facing an uphill climb I wasn’t ready to take and took a deep breath before moving on. The yards of the neighboring homes were lit by garden lamps and it was so quiet that I could hear the trickle of water from some of the surrounding fountains. These people sure loved their fountains! I sucked in a breath and willed my legs to move faster, eager to be back in the guesthouse.
Around me, twilight coated the street in luminous shades of red and purple and I couldn’t help but inhale its beauty. At this hour, Shadowhurst was almost picturesque, like they staged it for a showing. The homes sat far from the road and as I passed by them; they felt like feral eyes watching my every step.
My thoughts drifted in circles, always landing on Ms. Broussard’s last words to us at the Crystal Cauldron. Evil is afoot. She didn’t know the half of it! A second murder only confirmed my suspicions and I have never been more sure that a witch was responsible for the deaths of those students. I didn’t even need to read the news to know what they’d say—that the student was left in a mummified state, their energy sucked dry. There was only one spell I knew that could steal someone’s energy and no one in the coven dared go anywhere near it. It was dangerous and dark, something most witches avoided unless they wanted the High Coven to rain hell upon them. This was definitely the doing of a rogue witch. But why now when I was in town? It was like the entire thing was planned just for my arrival and I couldn’t help but worry over what that might mean.
As far as I knew, I was supposed to be the only witch in Shadowhurst but these murders said something else. The worst part wasn’t that students were being murdered, though that should have been enough to send me running for the hills, it was how they were being killed. With magic; and dark magic at that. And this town’s history with witches didn’t help matters one bit. Who’s to say that they wouldn’t burn me at the stake if rumors got out that magic was involved in the murders?
It was a foolish thought, deep down I knew that. People didn’t go around burning each other anymore, not in the civilized world we lived in now but something about Shadowhurst felt different. Like they wouldn’t think twice to strap me up in the bell tower and light a match. There was no way in fresh hell I could stay out of the murder now; my fate was decided as soon as Grady got killed. I had to protect myself before fingers started pointing my way. I mean, who better to blame than the new, weird kid with the so-called troubled past? Besides, if the High Coven found out that this was happening and I did nothing to stop it, I’d never hear the end of it. Worse, I might end up sharing a cell with Beatrix in the magical prison and I had no intention of ever seeing that woman again.
I was so wrapped up in thought that I barely noticed how far I’d walked. I spun around, trying to find the homes I was just next to but all I could see were trees and bushes blocking my view. Somehow, I ended up on a hiking trail without even realizing it. I backtracked my steps, trying to orient myself back to the major road that led to the Chandlers. Just ahead of me, I could see the streetlights twinkle in the dark. I hoisted my backpack higher and took off in a sprint.
Jogging down the trail, I could feel the air thicken as night took hold of the town and ran faster. A whimper sounded to my left and I froze, skidding to a stop and digging my boots into the gravel beneath. My irises widened as I scanned the area for something unusual. That was when I saw him.
A few feet from me, perched on a park bench, sat a young boy no older than five. His legs were curled close to his chest and his head shook as he gasped for breaths. Not thinking, I rushed toward him, wanting to cradle him into my chest to stop him from crying.
“Are you okay?” I asked when I reached the bench, “Where are your parents?”
The boy didn’t answer. His back rose and fell as he continued to cry uncontrollably.
My hand stretched out to touch his head. “I’ll help you get home, okay?”
When my fingers contacted his hair, my breath hitched. Something was wrong here, undeniably, creepily wrong. What was a tiny boy doing by himself at night with no parents in sight? I tried to back away but my legs refused to cooperate. No matter how much I willed myself to run, I stood still.
The boy looked up, his tear-stained eyes locked on mine. My heart leaped in horror as the little boy’s lips curled into a vicious grimace and he strained his back, hopping from the bench to stand in front of me. His small hand grasped mine and my brain exploded. Heat rushed from his palm to mine, boiling my blood from the touch. I wanted to scream. I wanted to push him back and get the heck out of there but I couldn’t do anything. My muscles ached and my head felt like someone was crushing it from either side.
Goddess help me, I cried, he’s a mind reaper.
Tears flooded my vision, and the boy took another step toward me, his hand still latching onto mine. His smile was maddening, like a creature from a fairy tale which wasn’t surprising—a creature was exactly what he was. A tiny finger stroked my skin and my temples pounded with the echoing sound of laughter. I felt him inside my brain, digging and digging until he got what he came for.
Few could survive a mind reaper once they had a hold of you and those that did were barely alive enough to tell the tale. When I was young, Beatrix took me to the hospital to visit a mind reaper victim to teach me some lesson about staying safe in the field though it had quite the opposite effect. After seeing the young woman strapped to tubes and unable to even speak, the last thing I wanted was to be a witch. For weeks, all I could think of was what that girl must have gone through and what she must have felt when the mind reaper destroyed her from the inside. Standing here now, with this creature’s hold on me, I could definitively say that this was so much worse than I ever imagined.
The creature smiled again and I could feel myself grow faint. I swear, if I get out of this, I’m knocking your baby teeth right out, you little bastard!
A car zoomed by in the distance and the boy swung his head toward the sound in alarm. Before he could regain his hold on me, I took my chance. My hand yanked from his and I stumbled back, my mind still swimming from his power overtaking me. I threw my hand into my shirt, ripping off the pendant from my neck and tightening a fist around the amet
hyst. The crystal cooled my heated palms and I screamed from its power.
The boy flashed his eyes my way and leaped but he was too slow, too small, and much too inexperienced. I swerved out of the way, sending him falling to all fours on the gravel. He swung around, his eyes feral and wild as he readied to lunge for me again.
He was so tiny that I almost felt bad for him. Almost. This isn’t a kid, Billie, I told myself as I pulled on the crystal’s powers. YOU CAN DO THIS.
But I couldn’t.
Vanquishing a full-grown shadower was one thing but destroying a small child, creature or not, was something else and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to go through with it. Correction, I knew I couldn’t.
My mind raced to think of a solution; some spell that would free me of the creature without killing it. There was no time to consult my grimoire—it’s not like I could ask the kid to hang tight while I found a way to defeat him.
Suddenly, an idea sparked just as the boy threw himself at me. I jumped back, leaping in the air to land on the bench in a crouch. My fingers pressed into the amethyst and I willed its magic into existence. Mind reapers fed on thoughts and memories so all I had to do was take enough back to render him useless.
“Let’s see how you like it!” I roared and flipped my palm at the boy.
The crystal hummed in my grasp and I closed my eyes, forcing its energy outward. A flash of purple spread from my palm, creeping toward the boy. He fell back, crawling away from me but I pressed my palm further as the crystal’s energy enveloped him in its grasp. The purple light surrounded him, twisting and turning in a beautiful blaze of power.
The boy screamed and I pulled back, yanking on the crystal and pulling the boy’s memories out with it. His small body shook on the ground as I pulled, further and further until I could taste his energy in the air. He yelped and I yanked on the crystal harder, sending the purple ring of light back into the pendant in my hand.
