With a little will and might, we both climbed over the two-foot-tall fence around the entire garden. My eyes on the police officer in the car the entire time. He didn’t move an inch, only to yawn and give an odd-shaped stretch as he pushed his arms against the car roof.
“We’re clear,” I said, marching forward to the front door.
A shiver ran through Cassandra. She paused at the door. “It doesn’t feel like anyone lives here.”
I glanced through the window, catching my reflection. “It doesn’t look like it either.” I clenched the moonstone harder.
She popped the lock on the front door, pushing it open. Jinx was first inside. I followed and copied Cassandra’s movements, crouching and shuffling beneath the tape inside. I pressed the door shut slowly.
“Feel anything?” she asked, stroking the back of Jinx’s neck.
The entire house was completely dark with a cold chill creeping in from all directions.
“Cold,” she grumbled, tapping her clawed paws on the hardwood floor.
We continued into the living room on the right. There was still only minimal furniture left inside. It appeared abandoned, frozen in time.
“Let’s sit here,” I said, tapping a foot. “We can prepare.” I sat on the ground, close to the centre of the room.
Cassandra took a spot beside me, placing her tote bag in front of us. “We need answers tonight.”
“We need light, too.” I glanced toward the moonlight coming in through the windows. “We should close those before we’re spotted.” I swished a hand in a circular motion and the curtains came together.
A deeper darkness swallowed the room.
“Perhaps we should’ve lit a candle first,” Cassandra snickered, digging through her bag. “Why did you ask me to bring matches?” she asked, shaking a small matchsticks box.
I grabbed a candle and sparked a flame from a snap of my fingers. “Sometimes cold spots mean magic doesn’t work,” I said, looking at Cassandra’s wide eyes through the candlelight. “Not always. Cold spots can be a drain, and the more magic you use, the more energy you’re wasting.” I placed the candle on the ground.
“Feel anything yet?” she called out to Jinx.
A loud hiss came from the small cat. “It’s empty. What am I supposed to read?”
“Maybe we should move to a more furnished area,” I said. “The office? The bedroom?”
“Let’s see if we can feel anything here,” she suggested, emptying the crystals across the floor. Alongside the kyanite, we’d brought other gemstones and crystals to help the process, including amethyst and rose quartz.
I pulled my coat free and relaxed on the spot. I reached high in a stretch, straightening my back like a solid board. “What happened here?” I called out into the ether. “Tell me what happened.” I grabbed the amethyst.
Given amethysts strong spiritual connection, if there was anything on the spiritual plane, it would amplify the message. I sucked in a deep and repeated myself, trying not to speak any louder than the walls could contain.
Thrash.
A grumble came from outside the back door.
“What’s that?” Cassandra asked. “Jinx?”
“I’m here,” she replied, creeping around the candle, her shadow casting a large picture across the wall.
Whoosh.
It came again.
Quick to my feet, I squeezed the amethyst. “Benji, is that you?”
NINETEEN
We inched closer to the back door. Perhaps someone else was trying to break in, perhaps it was the man who’d been parked outside the house, his unwavering gaze left me feeling like a piece to a puzzle was missing.
The window looking out over the back garden from the kitchen sink was covered in darkness.
Whoosh.
The washing line danced in the middle of the garden, whipping around the floor. It hadn’t been this windy earlier, but that was the beauty of British weather; an unpredictable beast.
“Just the washing line,” I said, turning to see Cassandra lower her hands from the defensive stance she’d been in.
Cassandra released a deep breath. “I can’t deal with it being dark. I wish we could tur—”
“Mummy?” a chilling voice echoed.
Shivers pricked across my entire body as the voice came. I dropped the cloudy amethyst stone on the ground. It smashed instantly.
“What’s—” Cassandra began.
“Where’s mummy?” the voice echoed through me, like I’d swallowed the voice and become a chamber for it to echo through.
“Benji?” I called out. “Is that you?”
“Benjamin, where are you?” Cassandra said. “Where are you?”
Like a shot of ice water to the face. “Leave me.”
I pointed to the ceiling. “His room.”
“It doesn’t feel like a ghost,” she said as I knelt to pick the gemstone debris from the kitchen floor.
“I don’t think it is.”
We returned to the living room and gathered crystals in our hands, anything we could use to amplify our voices and find the boy, wherever he was.
“Leave me alone, I said,” the boy spoke again, this time louder.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Let us help you.”
We followed the voice, but ultimately, we were both headed to his room. Jinx let out a screech ahead of us. The room was colder, immensely so.
I stepped with caution. “It’s strange,” I grumbled. “Benji, your parents need you. Tell us where you are.”
“I—I—I’m here,” his voice, a throbbing icy dart in the air.
There was nothing ahead. Just a voice.
“W—w—where are you?” he asked.
Cassandra gasped. “He can’t see us.”
I shook my head. “He’s stuck.”
“Stuck?”
I spun on a foot in the centre of the dark room, seeking the voice in all areas. “He’s not dead,” I said. “He’s on a different plane.” I pointed to the spot where I stood. “I think he opened the rift, right here.”
“Rift? What do you mean? Like, he tore a hole open and slipped inside?”
I weighed the options with my hands and arms as scales. “It’s possible.”
“How do we get inside?” she asked, standing at my side.
“Benji? What happened?”
There was nothing. We waited in the cold and silent buzz for several seconds.
“We need to open the rift, right here,” I said. “Right where it was opened last.”
“And if it’s—”
“If it’s not the place it was opened.” I sucked sharply through my teeth. “I could end up on any number of different planes, but I’ve never done this before. My mother has them for secret rooms, but they open through doorways.”
A tense groan came from the back of Cassandra’s throat. “I should go inside.”
“No, I will,” I said. “You brought the kyanite?”
She held it out to me, glinting slightly in the dark. “Yes.”
“We’ll use that as a key,” I said, pressing it back inside her hands. “It’s only small, so give me thirty minutes and then reopen.”
She nodded. “If you’re not back?”
A smile touched my lips. “I will. Whatever happens though, don’t come in. There’s no use in both of us getting lost.”
“Los—”
I had to reason with her. I wasn’t being honest. All my training told me to lessen what would happen. Everything I knew, I knew was to protect the people around me. I cleared my throat. “People have been known to go inside rifts and never come out again, there’s only ever one single exit and entry point. People hide things inside them, but you can’t spend too long inside.” My teeth clenched; Benjamin had been inside it for days now. “They’re not meant for the living.”
Cass shook her head. “I can’t let you go in using this,” she said, gesturing to the small kyanite in her hand.
“So
, we have one shot.”
“No pressure, then.”
“All you have to say is open or reveal yourself, and it should show you. It’ll be open until something passes through it, or the stone burns out.”
Cassandra placed the crystal on the ground. “I want to preface this by telling you, I don’t feel comfortable doing it.”
“Become comfortable,” I said. “I’ll be in and out. Remember, thirty minutes. Right here.”
She nodded. “Here’s goes.”
My mother’s rift was powered by a different stone, augmented into a wooden door; that rift opened and closed with the door. There was no such luck of this one being that easy.
As Cassandra uttered the word, a beam of light spat from the stone, lending its shape to a more circular form. I tipped my forehead to her before taking a giant step across the threshold of the crystal.
TWENTY
Once through the blinding light of the rift, my eyes took a moment to adjust. It was similar to looking directly at the sun for any length of time. I had white specks of light cloud my vision while I rubbed vigorously.
Adjusted. A cold washed over me. There was a brightness to the room as if someone had turned all the lights to a ten. But it was devoid of colour. I rubbed my eyes a little more, hoping it would return.
Nothing. This place was all black and white, like the television shows and films my mother had me watch as a child. I turned on my foot. This was the boy’s bedroom, an exact replica of the room I’d been standing in moments ago.
“Hello?” I spoke, the words swelled on my tongue.
At my feet I found empty milk bottles dotting the floor. The room was a mess, perhaps the rift was meant as a sanctuary for the owner, but it didn’t seem that way here. I inhaled deeply, the sour milk caught my nose.
“Ugh.” I sputtered in a cough.
Humph.
‘A dog?’ I wondered. ‘They didn’t have a dog.’ “Hello?” I called out.
Moving a foot, I knocked a bottle. The bottle knocked another bottle, and a thundering smash echoed through the room.
Ragh. Ragh.
Stomping footsteps shook the floor beneath my feet. They were headed in my direction, vibrating through the glass on the ground.
I shuffled back, turning to face a wardrobe. “Come on,” I grumbled, pressing my palm flat against the wardrobe door. Finding the groove, I slipped my fingers inside it and pulled it open on a hinge.
Fumbling into the empty wardrobe, I pressed my back against the wall and tugged at the door for it to fall into place. My hands planted firmly on the back wall, feeling the vibrations rattle.
One bottle smashed.
I squeezed my eyes.
A second crunched underfoot.
Deep panting. Huh. Huh. Huh.
‘Nothing can get you in here.’ I told myself. ‘This is protected.’
My eyes blinked wide. I pressed my face against the wooden slats, a small tack as my glasses collided. I strained my sight, peering out and not seeing much of anything except a messy room. After waiting for a moment, I leaned back and blew at my face.
Crunch.
I shuffled toward the other side of the wardrobe, finding a different vantage point. There was nothing.
Crunch.
It was closer.
An acidic stench followed.
‘On a count of three, Nora,’ I said, pinching my nostrils shut. ‘Give it everything you’ve got.’
The grumbling came again, this time louder, this time closer. The heat from its breath spat through the lines in the wardrobe.
Gurrr.
Almost beside me.
Whoosh.
The door opened, filling my eyes with my light.
My hands out prepared to defend myself with magic. But nothing came from my fingers, not a single jolt or spark of energy.
Seeing through the light, I found a boy stood in front of me. His plain face stared without blinking or smiling. From the pictures I’d seen on TV, this wasn’t Benji. He was taller than any nine-year-old I’d seen, with a face full of freckles.
At my feet, in front of the wardrobe were large claw marks, dug into the wood. I glanced from them to the boy. His eyes bulged on his face.
Rocking on his feet, a growl came. He opened his mouth; a sharp piercing scream left the back of his throat.
I covered my eyes. “Stop,” I tried. “Stop!”
He smirked before running off.
“Wait.” I chased, knocking bottles into each other, a cascade of smashing ensued. “Where are you going?” I followed him into the hallway.
More empty glass bottles lined the floor, but the boy seemed to have vanished.
“Benji?” I shouted. “Where are you?”
I rubbed at the gemstones augmented into the rings on my fingers. Nothing. Not a single flare of hope. Absolutely empty. I slowly stepped around the glass bottles, walking across the hallway to view the other rooms.
Turning, I looked to the forbidden room at the opposite end of the hallway. It was still locked, even in this place. I quizzed myself about the contents of the room on the earthly plane, that should’ve been the first place we checked.
I continued looking in the rooms with open doors. The spare room and the bathroom were both littered in bottles toppled over. The room at the end, from when I’d been here last, was the parents’ bedroom. The door was shut, but the bottles seemed to make a path towards it, lining the skirting board.
If the boy was behind this door, I’d have to prepare for him barking or screaming at me again. If it was Benji—and I hoped it was him, I needed it to be him. I turned the handle, pushing the door with a gentle tap.
There was a boy. Looking out through a window, he stood with his back to me. He was definitely the height of a 9-year-old boy. I approached him slowly. I couldn’t say anything for definite in all the black and white.
“Benjamin?”
I reached out to place a hand on his shoulder.
TWENTY-ONE
As I called his name, once again, my eyes wandered around him, noticing peculiarities on the floor. The wooden flooring had been scratched away at his feet and the plasterboard had been pulled away from the wall by the window.
“Ben—”
Ragh. He turned his torso one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, his jaw snapping.
This wasn’t him.
He dropped to the ground on all fours, baring his teeth. His jaw continued to swing wildly, chomping on air.
My magic didn’t work here. I turned and ran.
Smash. Crash.
Bottles knocked into each other, covering the floor in sharp pieces of broken glass.
I jumped the last four steps, reaching the front door. My knees ached, and my breathing shallowed at the bottom of my chest; I couldn’t run like I used to.
Ragh. A snapping jaw came from the top step.
“Stop!” I said, holding out a hand.
The boy perched like a dog with his tongue poking out from the side of his mouth. He began panting and pawing at the edge of the step.
I pointed to my feet. “Come here.”
It was odd, watching as he slinked down the steps on arms and legs. I had heard of protectors, but never quite so human and animal-like at the same time. One or the other, perhaps this was similar to my familiar, except without the ability to talk, only to act as their animal counterpart.
I had to look away until he was beside me, the heat of his breath tickled my ankles.
“Stand up,” I said.
He stood, changing from the animalistic aggression to a more human pose with a smiling face and bright eyes looking at me.
“Where’s the boy?” I asked. “Where’s Benji?”
Resorting to a pant of breath, he stuck his tongue out.
I creased my brows together and looked away for a moment. “Point to him. Point to Benji.”
He pointed through the room on my left; the dining room, in the direction of a closed door at the end of the wall. Benji
was in his parents’ office.
The boy scampered off as headed toward it.
I knocked twice with the back of my knuckles. “Benjamin? Are you in there?”
An aggressive growl came, filling the entire room. I looked behind myself, hoping it wasn’t coming from the boy again.
It ceased, and in the silence, I spoke. “I’m Evanora Lavender. I’m a friend.”
“I don’t know you,” a soft voice sobbed. “Where’s my mum and dad?”
I sighed. I couldn’t tell him the truth, although granted it might’ve seemed like it would coax him out. I took a deep breath. “They’re waiting for you,” I said. “But because you’ve gone missing, they might not be around for much longer.”
“No!”
I tried the handle, but it was met with a stern thud at the lock. “Open the door, please.”
A hushed voice spoke, but I couldn’t make out a single word. It was followed by sobbing, louder this time. Crying out. A sputter.
“I can get you home,” I said.
“He doesn’t need to go home!” a gravelly voice spoke as a scratch scraped the length of the door. “I’m his friend.”
“Who’s with you?” I asked, the hairs on my neck standing high. It could’ve been any number of creatures in there with him. “I know your parents, Jennifer, Ryan, I know they miss you a lot.”
“He only needs me!” the static voice, like chewing wool, the sound made my eyes squint and my jaw clench.
I rolled the watch on my wrist. The hands hadn’t changed, while the second hand twitched in place. I had no idea how long I’d been here or how long I had left. I pounded a fist on the door. “Your parents are waiting for you.”
It swung open, smashing against the wall hinge.
A little boy sat on a small cushion on the ground, one arm in a sling while the other arm was wrapped around the neck of a teddy bear.
“Hello, Benji,” I said. “Where’s your friend?”
He shook his head, but his eyes weren’t looking at me. They were looking straight past me, almost through me.
I turned.
The boy from upstairs, the one I’d seen in Benji’s room. “He doesn’t need saving.”
I stepped backwards into the room. “Who are you? What are you?”
Monster Magic in Witchwood Page 7
