Dark Moon Falls: Abel
Page 8
Ayry took her phone out. “Use mine.” She pushed the phone in his direction.
He turned the screen to face her. “No signal.”
“Land line.” She pulled the receiver off the cradle on the wall. She put it to her ear. There was no sound. “It’s dead.”
Silas took the phone from her and listened. “What do we do?”
“I don’t know. We have to find Abel and we have to get out of here.” Ayry moved toward the door again. She rubbed her hands together and let the power form inside of her before pushing it out toward the door.
The bolt of magic struck the door and dissipated as though it were nothing. She tried again with the same result.
She went to the front door to try again.
Silas stood watching.
Ayry leaned against the door and slid down. “We’re trapped. For whatever reason we’re not going to be able to leave.”
“Someone will come for us,” Silas reassured her.
“Will they be able to get us out?” she questioned.
“I don’t know.”
Chapter 10
Morning light streamed through the windows. Ayry was in the parlor combing through the books to find anything that could help to get them out. Dark circles hung around her eyes and she felt physically weak.
“Ayry, drink this.” Anabelle brought her a cup of hot tea. “You need to get some rest.”
“I can’t. I have to figure out how to get Maynard out of here. We can’t call out, we can’t leave. I’ve never seen anything like this.” She slammed one of the books shut. “This is why he should’ve taught me. This is why he never should’ve pretended that I didn’t have this magic. Now I’m fucking useless to save my son.”
“Whoever is keeping us here can’t do it forever,” Anabelle said.
“Can’t they?”
“Why would they?”
“That’s the problem. The only thing I can think of is that the necromancer is holding Maynard here until he’s ready to strike.” She propped her head on the back of the couch.
“What do we do?”
“I don’t know.”
Silas entered the room. “Anything?”
“No,” Anabelle answered for her sister. “I’m going to start breakfast.”
Ayry followed them into the kitchen. Her mind still racing with how she would get out of the house. Anabelle went about her normal morning routine and put bacon in the skillet and started a pot of coffee.
“Good morning!” Jezabelle flooded the kitchen with her overbearing personality.
No one responded. Jezabelle looked around the kitchen and eyed the coffee pot. “The funeral isn’t until later today. Save the long faces for then.”
Everyone glared at Jezabelle. Silas was perplexed but the girls were used to their strange aunt’s manner.
A knock on the back door put everyone on alert.
Ayry rushed to the screen door. “Hey!”
Jeremiah stood outside waiting for someone to answer the door.
“Jeremiah, can you hear me?” Ayry banged on the door.
Jeremiah took a few steps backward and looked up at the house. He went to Silas’ truck then looked back up at the house again.
“Shit! He can’t hear us.” Ayry banged on the door again. “Jeremiah!”
Silas joined in and was doing the same and shouting, “Dad!”
“It’s no use. He can’t hear us.” Anabelle watched out the window.
Jeremiah pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed and waited. He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He came back up on the porch and peered into the window. Ayry was jumping up and down banging on the window. “Jeremiah! We’re in here.”
Jeremiah went back to his truck and left.
“Now what are we going to do?” Ayry slammed her hand on the counter and worked to contain herself to not cause a storm in the house.
“What is all this fuss?” Jezabelle sat tapping her fingernails on the table. “Let’s get breakfast and figure out what’s happening then. This silly town…”
“Wait.” An idea sparked in Ayry’s mind. “I’ll blow us out of here.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean?” Anabelle put her hand on Ayry’s arm to hold her back.
Ayry shook loose and said, “I’m going to blow a hole in the wall so we can get out.”
“No. First we don’t even know if that will work, it didn’t last night. Second, what if you start a fire and we’re trapped,” Anabelle said in a panic.
“We have to get out of here,” Ayry said, defeated.
“We have to get out of here – alive,” she said. “We’ll find another way.”
Jezabelle sipped her coffee. “These things have a way of sorting themselves out.” She motioned toward the stove. “Your bacon is burning.”
“Shit.” Anabelle scooted to the stove and flipped the bacon. “I hope you like it crispy.”
“It’s bacon and I’m starving. I’d eat it if it were charcoal.” Ayry said.
“Has it dawned on anyone that we’re trapped in here with a wolf? I mean, don’t you need to eat a lot?” Jezabelle asked Silas.
A mischievous glimmer danced in his eyes. “Yes, we do.”
“I hope you have enough food to keep this one in check. That would ruin someone’s day.” Jezabelle continued to sip her coffee and continued. “I never understood what drew your mother to all this magic. Half-breeds everywhere. Witches mating with wolves, wolves mating with magus. I’ll never understand why Alizabelle thought being part of this world and having children with Amon was a good idea.”
“I’m going to check on Maynard.” Ayry left the kitchen before she said something ugly to Jezabelle. It was only a matter of time, but she wanted to put it off for as long as possible.
Ayry approached the bedroom door quietly in case he was still asleep. She heard his voice. “I told her, but I’ll tell her again.”
“Tell who, what?” Ayry opened the door and stepped in.
“You.” Maynard smiled. “I told you to read that book to me.”
“Oh, is that what it is?” She sat on the bed next to him, nuzzled in.
“Yes. The smiling man wants you to read that book,” he said playing with his floppy-eared bunny.
“And why is that?” Ayry asked “Because it’s a very long book?”
“Because you need to learn from it.”
“What do I need to learn?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But you do and you can’t leave until you do.”
Ayry’s expression soured. “Maynard, are you keeping us from leaving?”
“No.” He didn’t look up at his mother.
“Then who is?”
“The smiling man. He said, ‘we have to keep the copy here until you know what to do.’”
Ayry sucked in a sharp breath trying to process what he was saying. “What copy?”
She realized the craziness of listening to the musings of a very mischievous five-year-old with an active imagination. “Come on, let’s go get some breakfast. Auntie Anabelle is making bacon.”
“Mmmm, bacon.” He hopped out of bed and ran for the door.
Ayry followed behind him and down into the kitchen. Maynard froze in the doorway staring at Jezabelle.
Jezabelle turned wide-eyed seeing Maynard. “Well hello there. Who is this handsome gentleman?”
Maynard’s finger rose to point at her. Ayry took his hand in hers to keep him from being rude. “This is Maynard. Maynard, this is your great aunt Jezabelle.”
Jezabelle smiled. “It certainly is a pleasure to meet you.” She glowered at Ayry. “It might have been nice to have known I had a great nephew.”
“Not now, Jezabelle. I’ve got enough to deal with.” She turned to Maynard and asked, “Do you want some juice?”
Maynard hadn’t taken his eyes off Jezabelle. “What is she?”
“She’s your great aunt.” Anabelle answered for Ayry.
“Stop all this nonsen
se. Come sit down.” She waved her hand for Maynard to sit at the table with her.
Maynard shook his head and ran for the parlor. Ayry chased after him. “What’s wrong Maynard?”
“She scares me. She’s not real,” Maynard said clutching his bunny.
“You’re not making sense.” Ayry picked him up. “Explain to me what you mean.”
Anabelle stood in the doorway. “What was that about?”
Ayry shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
Maynard ran to the bible and opened it to the family tree. “Read this to me, Mommy.”
Anabelle and Ayry exchanged a look. “I think you should read it to him.”
Ayry sat in the chair and pulled Maynard and the book into her lap. She ran her fingers over the top of the family tree. “This is you grandpa Amon Price and your grandma Alizabelle Walsh.”
“All the belles.” He giggled.
“Yes, it’s been a family tradition for the women in the family to have belle in their name.” She smiled and continued. “Here’s me Ayrabelle and then Anabelle. This is your great grandma Lilibelle and your great aunts Jezabelle, Mirabelle and Sarabelle…”
Maynard slid his finger further down the page. “Copies.” He held his hand above the page and closed his eyes. One name every fourth generation lit up and was glowing.
Ayry’s mouth hung open and her eyes darted toward the kitchen then to Anabelle. “Look at this.”
“What?” Anabelle looked over Ayry’s shoulder and the name came out as a whisper, “Jezabelle.”
Ayry’s eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty. “What do we do?”
“We don’t even know what it means?”
“The smiling man says we need to keep her here.”
Ayry slid Maynard off her lap and took him gently by the shoulders. “Tell me about the smiling man.”
“He’s always smiling and he likes to come and play with me.”
“Do you ever feel scared?” Ayry asked.
“No, never. He loves me. He’s told me I’m a treasure.” Maynard nodded. “He says you need to read the book.” He pulled away from Ayry. “Can I have some juice?”
“Yeah, there’s juice on the table.” Anabelle pointed toward the kitchen.
When Maynard was out of the room, they exchanged a worried glance. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know, but if Jezabelle is a threat, should we be letting Maynard anywhere near her?” Ayry stood up and went for the kitchen.
They stopped in the kitchen door seeing Maynard standing next to Jezabelle. Her hands were stacked between his hands hovering around them. “You promise you won’t leave?”
“I promise,” she said in monotone.
“If you leave, the smiling man will hurt you.” Maynard’s voice was low and serious. Ayry had never seen him behave this way.
Silas was staring at the exchange in awe.
Ayry inhaled to speak and Anabelle stopped her by putting her hand on her arm. “Let him finish,” she whispered.
“But…”
“Look at him. He knows what he’s doing,” Anabelle reassured her.
Jezabelle answered in a trance, “I understand.”
“Now, go upstairs and stay in your room,” Maynard instructed.
Jezabelle stood up and went up the stairs.
The room was silent for a solid thirty seconds. Maynard climbed up into the chair and drank all of his juice. “May I please have more juice? I’m very thirsty.”
The adults in the room were all stunned and at a loss for words. Ayry sat next to Maynard at the table, “How did you do that? Why did you do that?”
“Because the smiling man told me to, he helped me. She has to stay in her room.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s not safe,” he said, drinking another glass of juice.
The back door swung open and Jeremiah burst into the kitchen. Everyone jumped at the commotion.
“What the hell?” Anabelle grasped her chest.
“Sorry, I was hear earlier…” He turned pointing toward the door. “It was like –”
Ayry got up and went to the door and cautiously stepped out. “We can leave.”
Maynard sat at the table with a grin on his face.
“Did you do this?” Ayry asked him.
“Seems like everything’s okay here.” Phaedra stepped in from the porch. Her eyes focused on Maynard and then she asked Ayry, “Is this your little boy?”
In that moment Ayry felt fear for her child, what she was and what he was. She wanted to lie. She wanted to say he wasn’t hers, but she couldn’t deny him.
Maynard smiled and took a bite of the biscuit Anabelle gave him and said, “You’re a good witch.”
“I’d like to think so.” She came closer to him. “Are you a good witch?”
“I’m not a witch,” he said chewing.
Phaedra raised her brow. “The bloodline isn’t dormant.”
No one responded to her. No one wanted to talk about it. Saying it out loud only made it more dangerous.
“Abel,” Ayry blurted out. “We have to find Abel.”
“Have you seen Abel?” Silas asked Jeremiah.
“No. He was at Delight’s last night is the last I heard.”
“Are you keeping tabs on him?” Ayry asked.
“Barnett asked me to. We just want to keep the peace and since I raised him, he’s my responsibility.” Jeremiah held his hands up in surrender. “It’s for everyone’s safety.”
“But he’s disappeared. He’s not safe.” Ayry was torn. She wanted to stay and keep her son safe, but she needed to find Abel.
“Let’s go. We’ll find him. You stay here.” Silas tipped his head and motioned for his father to follow him.
“I’ll keep you posted,” Jeremiah said on the way out the door.
Phaedra sat back in her chair getting comfortable.
Ayry sat protectively next to Maynard. “Thank you for putting the protection on the house and checking on us. We’ve got it from here.”
“You’re welcome.” She crossed her legs. “How long did you think you were going to be able to keep this secret?”
“I never should’ve come back,” Ayry said, stewing in regret.
“You needed to come back. You’ve got some challenges coming your way and you’re going to need the old texts. How did you intend to teach a magus how to be a magus?” Phaedra asked.
“It was my intention to not teach him to be a magus, but to just be himself.” Ayry hung her head.
“That’s like asking a cheetah to not hunt or a werewolf to never shift. It’s not possible. This could manifest in some very explosive ways if he’s not cultivated and you intend to do this yourself, with no magic or guidance of your own? You are setting yourself and him up for disaster. He must be taught the ways, or it could go very wrong,” Phaedra said with genuine concern. “I’m not a magus and I thought your father was the last.” She smiled at Maynard. “But he wasn’t and now you have a responsibility to do this right.”
Ayry didn’t know if she could truly trust Phaedra. She and her father butted heads on more than one occasion, and it was clear there was no love lost between them even though he was part of the coven.
“What does it matter to you?” Ayry asked.
“Because all magic creates either a balance or imbalance in the world.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “If he is not taught properly, he could be the cause of the next great imbalance. He could become a necromancer.”
“He would never do that. He’s good.”
“So was your father. He never intended to create imbalance, but he did.” Phaedra’s expression fell.
“What do you mean? How did Dad create imbalance?” Anabelle said listening intently.
Phaedra shook her head. “I wish Amon were alive so I could kick him in the shins for never sharing this with you. I’m not even sure how relevant it is.”
“What are you talking about?” A
nabelle leaned in closer.
“This family. Your father never should’ve married or had children. He was to be the end of the magus line. His job was to complete the magus circle while ending the necromancer’s line. That was his promise, his destiny, and he failed.” Phaedra peered into Ayry’s eyes. “And you…and him were never supposed to be.”
Ayry was offended. “Okay, I’ve heard enough. You should go.”
“Ayry, the balance is very delicate. He’s here now and you must figure out how to help him keep the balance until it’s his time to end the line. Do you understand? Where there is a magus, there is a necromancer.”
“I’ll find this necromancer and kill him.” Ayry’s eyes glowed red. She could no longer contain her anger.
Phaedra’s eyes widened watching the change in Ayry. Her mouth hung open and she stood at the ready to defend herself. “How?” she asked.
“I don’t know how. I don’t know why any of this is happening. I just want to live my life, raise my son and be happy.” She inhaled deep calming breaths.
Phaedra took Ayry’s hands into her own. “Calm down.”
“I can’t.” Ayry started to shake. “He never taught me.”
Phaedra closed her eyes and focused on Ayry. “Just be calm. It’s going to be okay.”
“How can you say that? You’ve just said that my son shouldn’t be alive.”
Maynard tugged at Ayry’s shirt. “She likes me. She’s glad I’m here.”
“He is correct.” Phaedra smiled.
“How? The line should’ve ended,” Ayry parroted Phaedra’s sentiment.
“Yes, the line should’ve ended, but the necromancers always find a way around. They always have something hidden, waiting. A back up plan. Once the magus are gone, they can rule.”
“But you said he failed.”
“He failed because Amon did not kill the necromancer. Abel did.” Phaedra’s expression darkened.
“But the necromancer is gone. Isn’t that what we needed?” Anabelle asked.
“The power of the necromancer goes into the one who takes his life and the necromancer will stop at nothing to kill any magus he finds.” Phaedra remained silent to let the information sink in.
Ayry leaned down and hugged Maynard. “My god.”
Phaedra nodded. “That’s why he was banished. Amon wouldn’t kill him, and we couldn’t risk the power of the necromancer inhabiting any of us. It had already found it’s host.”