Blossom Blood

by Carlyle Labuschagne

  He slowly climbed the wooden steps and swung the front door open. Immediately, he heard something hard knock against the wooden floors, like something falling. It was followed by voices.

  Creeping through the front entrance, he peeked around the corner into the passage and saw the antique dresser emptied of its draws, the contents strewn all over the floor. He slipped his shoes off to try and quiet his steps as he approached the source of the voices.

  “It has to be here,” A female voice said from behind the study door. “She keeps it at home because the clasp is broken.” The same voice echoed throughout the bottom floor.

  The door was slightly ajar, making it easy for him to hear every word and judge the exact positions the intruders were standing in.

  “It’s not here, Milla.” A male voice said. It was riddled with impatience and perhaps a little menace, too.

  Asher froze with the recognition of her name. I knew it. The babysitter. He grabbed a photo-frame off the wall in front of him and burst into the room, throwing it at the male intruder, who vanished from his spot. The frame crashed to the floor in pieces where the guy was standing seconds ago. After a blue flash, the guy was on the opposite end of the room. Asher, still in motion, slid across the wooden floor in his socks as if making it to home base with no time to spare. He felt something hot fly past him, blinding his vision. Half on his side, he skidded across the room on his hip easily so on shiny the wooden floors. Then unexpectedly, his body flung to the other side of the room, colliding into the antique clock with a deafening crash. He tried to crawl to his feet, still blinding, not sure how hard he hit his head, but could not get his body to move.

  “Get out of my house!” he cried out.

  “Check his pockets,” Milla said.

  He vaguely made out tugging of his jacket pockets.

  “I will kill you,” Asher said.

  His vision was blurry but he willed his hands to punch out. He would not give up without a fight. Not ever again. His fist connected with something before a face came right up against his. He could make out red hair, dark eyes, and a tattoo on the side of his neck. It’s shape was familiar. His hearing faded, and his entire body felt like it was submerged under water - slow, and too heavy to move against a whirling current. He felt like he was sinking, the light and air thinning around him.

  Milla’s voice filled his ears. “Leave him.”

  Her male partner burst out laughing. “Always a sucker for the pretty ones.”

  “Move before I obliterate you.” she replied.

  And just like that, with a blue flash of light, they were gone. The pressure he had felt building up inside, causing him to feel drunk and drowning started to release.

  “What the hell just happened?” He thought at the same time Octavius said the exact same words.

  Four

  Two hours later, Octavius had managed to get Asher to calm down, persuading him to drink some sugar-water to calm his nerves, and to carefully explain to him, in detail, what Asher had witnessed. Cleo was pacing the length of the extended glass window, which made up the wall of the greenhouse that ran adjacent to the kitchen. Her little fists were held tight against her body as her eyes darted between her uncle and her brother.

  Caleb stared at her over the rim of a book. “Would you sit down. Your pacing is annoying.”

  Cleo stopped pacing for just a moment. “Do you smell that, the entire house reeks of it.”

  No one answered her. Asher looked to his twin siblings. For seven year olds, they seemed very mature for their age, making him wonder what kind of things were happening to make them so blasé toward the situation Octavius got up from his chair and walked over to the kettle.

  “Like sugar on fire, with a sour undertone,” Cleo continued. “It’s been here since the break in. “We should call the cops.” She added.

  Caleb ignored his melodramatic twin.

  “…And vomit? Smoking vomit.” She sniffed the air.

  Asher placed the bag of frozen peas he had pressed to the back of his skull on the table before him. “I can’t call the cops. They’ll think I’m crazy. I must have a concussion. What I saw – actually, I have no idea what I saw,” he muttered to himself.

  “Still think we need to call the cops?” Caleb said simply.

  Cleo stopped and turned toward Asher. Octavius walked from the kettle and made his way into the greenhouse.

  “Milla? You saw her?” Cleo asked. Her voice peaking at the disbelief their baby sitter, who she was extremely fond of, had been involved in the home invasion that injured her older brother.

  Octavius had silently entered the room from the greenhouse and was holding a bundle of greenish-red leaves and chucked them into the blender.

  “We should at least call Milla out,” Asher’s said. His tongue was still feeling sluggish as if tanked-up. He tried to stand from the chair, but quickly fell back down in his seat as the room started to spin again.

  “We need to get you to the doctor,” Caleb said. You might have properly hurt your head.”

  “No.” Octavius quickly interjected, staring at his nephews and niece from over his shoulder.

  “He hasn’t got a head wound. It’s the first thing I looked for. It’s a simple case of shock in conjunction with the adrenalin wearing off. Besides, Milla would never – ”

  “How many people do you know named Milla?” Asher pinched his eyes shut with a grimace, placing the frozen bag of peas to the back of his neck. He winced at the cold burn against his skin.

  Cleo started pacing again as her brain hit overload.

  “And you said she was looking for …” Her voice disappeared among the fray of the insanely loud blender. Cleo yelled over the noise but her sweet voice was still drowned out by harsh sounds of finely sliced leaves and twigs that sounded more like bolts turning inside a washing machine. The three Blossom siblings shared a look between them, all waiting patiently for Octavius to finish his blending. When the noise finally stopped, Caleb added.

  “And now is the time for blending?” Caleb asked.

  Octavius poured some of the brownish gloop into a teacup, followed by boiling water from the kettle. Caleb pulled a face at the smell as his uncle neared, then removed his glasses and wiped vigorously at his burning eyes.

  “It’s getting late,” Cleo said staring at her twin brother, putting her arm around him, and squeezing him tight. “Wanna shack up with your old room-mate tonight?” she offered.

  Caleb nodded with a yawn that set off a ripple effect around the room. Asher took the cup of homemade tea with both hands from Octavius, who stood glaring at him. Octavius explained the importance of the ‘tea’ when Asher shook his head. He had no intention of drinking the foul stuff.

  Octavius pushed the cup towards Asher’s mouth. “It’s just a light sedative to counter the effects of the –” He snapped his mouth shut.

  Asher’s eyes narrowed on him. “Finish that sentence please.”

  “You know for the…” Octavius cleared his throat, “shock.”

  Caleb put his feet to his chest as he sat down on the bench across from Asher. “Symptoms include, dizziness, slurred speech, blurry vision and you said, disorientation.”

  All eyes were on him as Asher nodded.

  “From my research.” He started, but got to the point after both Cleo and Octavius rolled their eyes, he was always in the books researching a million things. “ That’s not shock – nor can it be concussion as he’s not vomiting; besides, you told us there was no head wound, Uncle,” Caleb eagerly added.

  The three Blossom siblings stared at Octavius. They were too smart for their own good. For Asher, things didn’t add up either, yet it was starting to add up to something else – something cagey.

  “And then there’s that burnt-sugar-vomit smell; it’s like it’s soaked into the fabric of the house,” Cleo added.

  “It’s from a burst of Demon fire.” A voice said, saving Octavius from breaking his promise to his late sister.

&nbs
p; Everyone in the kitchen turned around toward the Green-room doorway. Brooke was standing there with Milla at her side. Milla held flower stems in her hands, topped with bright yellow buds.

  Asher stood, his feet kicking the chair out from underneath him. Steadied by his fists on the table, he asked, “What is she doing here?” his eyes pinned to Brooke’s, and even though her face was shrouded in shadow it was like he saw the apology in her gaze before she said it. I want her out of my house.” The slur was almost completely gone as his anger took over Asher.

  Brooke entered slowly, saying, “I can explain.” Her hands were held up in defence.

  “It’s not what you think,” Milla added.

  Asher’s voice grew louder. “She nearly got me killed,” he said incredulously.

  “Give her a chance to explain,” Octavius interjected.

  Octavius nodded toward Milla and Brooke to continue, it was now past the point of hiding behind hollow excuses. . Octavious knew if Milla felt the need to come clean, she would only do that if she felt the Blossom kids were in peril. That was her duty to the family. The twin’s heads darted between Milla to Brooke, to Asher, to Octavius as a fight started to break out.

  Milla laughed. “I hit you with a small dose. Nothing that could actually kill you Asher.”

  “Dose of what?” Asher sounded wounded.

  “Like she said, Demon Fire,” Brooke repeated, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Caleb’s eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he said. “Magic!” Any ounce of exhaustion suddenly dispelled from his demeanour.

  “What do you know of magic, Caleb?” Octavius asked.

  “This is preposterous. I don’t want her near the twins!” Asher’s voice boomed through the room.

  “We need to explain,” Brooke said, looking between Octavius and Asher.

  Asher’s eyes were vicious as he pinned Milla to the spot with his stare. His knuckles whitened as he took a step closer, standing right up against the table. The only thing standing between him and the mysteriously dangerous Milla.

  “Explain? You keep saying explain, yet there is no explanation being given. How did you get in my house? Why did you do this to me? She’s dangerous, Brooke.” His glare swung to his sister.

  Brooke clicked her tongue. “She’s not. She’s trying to protect you.”

  Her voice was oddly calm while her brother’s tone got harsher. He couldn’t understand why they were defending her.

  Asher’s voice came out impossibly loud. “Get her out of my house.” The next moment, the table lifted off the ground and flipped over right at Milla.

  Five

  Everyone had made their escape into the living room, except for the two oldest Blossom siblings. A slight breeze blew in from the open windows in an effort to rid the house of the rotten smell of Demon Fire. Brooke stood across from Asher, her light brown hair ruffled by the wind. Unlike the rest of the Blossom siblings, she had brown eyes like their mother. He tried to stay mad at her, but he had no right. He obviously sucked at being a big brother. He stood staring at his sister, willing the clarity to understand how the table had suddenly mid-air dropped like it had. As if it had hit an invisible wall. But first, he had to make sense of how the table just lifted off the floor in the first place.

  Brooke studied her brother’s expression and involuntarily started to chew her nails. Her dark brown eyes were dewy and bloodshot as she pulled back tears.

  “I never meant for anyone to get hurt,” she said, sniffing.

  “You have to believe me. I instructed Milla to do it the moment you guys had left. No one was supposed to be in the house. Octavius would not cooperate.”

  Asher pulled her into a hug. “You know about the letter?”

  She nodded.

  Still holding her, he softly said. “I love you – but Brooke, I don’t understand you at all. You asked Milla to break in? What is it they want?”

  The reflection in the glass wall that separated kitchen from The Greenhouse held an almost exact replica of the Blossom parents Asher could remember. Brooke with her dark hair, darker skin and dark eyes like an Italian goddess and Asher, much like the twins had pitch black wavy hair, a pale English skin tone, and a variation of grey to blueish-grey eyes. He stared at their reflection, a similar version of their parents, missing them so much in that moment he almost felt sick with longing.

  “I…” Brooke started to say.

  He pulled away from her and looked into her brown almond eyes.

  His voice was tender and soft. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Once I figure out what the heck all this magic speak is, he thought to himself. His eyes flashed to Milla, who sat with the twins in the living room. He studied her; multi-colored hair, tattoos, and all. Perhaps he had been a little harsh on meeting her. If Brooke trusted her, there had to be a very good reason, and he should try to do the same.

  Her eyes followed Asher’s. “I had no idea she would hit you with a dose of magic.”

  “My body hurts, but it wasn’t enough to kill me, apparently.”

  Milla was sat reading to the twins. Brooke smiled and he returned the smile. She was the one who pulled him into a hug this time.

  “Of course you’re fine.” Brooke spoke into his shoulder; her arms wrapped around his solid frame. She had no idea what she’d do if something had to happen to him, to any of her family. That is why she decided to do what that institute had asked of her.

  “My indestructible brother,” she added.

  Asher pulled her away and studied her expression. “I want to know what you meant by she’s protecting me. Especially as she has a pretty funny way of showing it – and that guy she was with, is he dangerous?”

  “Unfortunately, Brooke has no control over Kegan.”

  Asher rolled his eyes. “Clearly.”

  Octavius popped his head into the kitchen but seeing them in the middle of intense conversation, disappeared.

  “I want to know what the big secret is around here?” Asher said.

  Brooke pushed her escaped hair behind her ear, buying her some time to think of how exactly to explain their unique family status in ordinary words.

  “You heard Milla say something about Demon Fire?” She paused, checking his reaction.

  “How can I forget?” He rubbed his forehead, remembering the confusion, the feeling of drowning that consumed him until he lost all sense of balance, of self.

  “It’s a spell intended to disarm your opponent.”

  Asher laughed, loudly. “How much weed do you smoke?”

  Brooke felt herself flush with embarrassment.

  “Yeah I know about that,” he said. His chin dipped to meet her eyes with a stronger gaze.

  “It’s for medical purposes,” she began.

  He snorted. “What medical purpose?”

  “It helps me dampen my abilities,” she said shyly.

  Asher kept deadly quite, too scared to breathe, to move, to say anything that might shake him from his dream. From across the room, a yellow orb of light danced across the kitchen floor, then silently took to the roof, changing colors like a display of fireworks. Asher stood and backed away; his face turning a paler shade at the impossible site before him.

  “Brooke, back away.”

  “Magic,” Brooke said, her eyes on the orb.

  Asher’s eyes darted toward Milla as she entered the room. Her hand held palm up, her slim fingers twirling as if she controlled the speed and colors of the light orb.

  “I hail from the Gugons Institute of The Arcane. We specialize in defending this realm.”

  His eyes darted between Milla and Brooke. “Against what exactly?”

  “Against magic that could extinguish the very fabric of this reality.”

  “Like time spells,” Brooke interjected.

  Asher felt his whole body go numb, his lungs taking in air but not expelling it.

  Brooke was at his side, stroking his arm. “Breathe.”

  Octavius entered the room,
the twins, freshly washed and dressed in their pyjamas, coming in behind him. “I think we need to start at the beginning,” he said to the girls.

  Cleo’s eyes looked between her older brother and sister; big gray-blue eyes looking lost, bewildered and a bit afraid. Caleb grabbed her hand, a book tucked under his other arm.

  “I find this a fitting time to read you my favourite inspirational passage from Harry Potter,” Caleb said, putting on a very serious face.

  “Please, no,” Cleo pulled from his grip.

  “Oh well, don’t tell me I never tried,” Caleb said, sullenly.

  “Tried what exactly?” Cleo’s eyes were on the strange disco ball suspended mid-air. “So pretty.” Cleo gasped. Her eyes moved between Milla’s hand and the orb, which split into two equal parts, and glimmered like fireworks burning out over the night sky. Brooke held out her own hand, directing the light orbs to soundlessly explode into a dozen tiny starts, which popped and sparkled with a kaleidoscope of colors that made Cleo smile brightly.

  “Magic isn’t all terrible,” Milla said.

  Brooke took Cleo in her arms, and held Caleb by the shoulder, she smiled up at Octavius. “It’s camping time.” Brooke said, giving a big smile.

  Octavius, Brooke, Milla and the twins looked eager. The four of them staring at Asher who stood off to the one side of the kitchen in total confusion. One minute they were trying to convince him that magic really existed and that they were part of some secret society conspiracy, and the next minute, they were talking about going on a camping trip. What the hell was going on? He shook his head, desperate for clarity.

  “I’ll bake some of my favourite chock-chip muffins,” Brooke added.

  “Topped with Vanilla milkshakes, all round.” Octavius arched a brow. “I’ll start the popcorn,” he added.

  Brooke nodded at Octavius with a sweet smile on her face.

  “Can we use those fairy lights this time?” Cleo asked as they left the kitchen with Milla.

  “We don’t need them.” Milla’s voice trailed off into the living room.

  “What the hell guys!” Asher finally voiced his panic.