Blossom Blood

by Carlyle Labuschagne

  But all he got was silence as everyone scattered into their various corners of the house as if nothing was going on, nothing at all. His breath left in sharp, shallow gasps, his head dizzy with the mixture of frustration, confusion and anger. Once again feeling left out of his family circle.

  The soft echo of Brooke’s heels came towards him, and all he saw was a patient, beautifully all grown up woman, with a smile that could calm the Seven Seas. He saw his mom in that moment. Tortured by the indecisive thoughts of missing her more, or was this God’s way of showing him, she’d always be a part of him in times when it mattered most she’d appear to calm his soul, and enliven him when he felt most lost, or down.

  * * *

  “How did I do this?” Asher asked Brooke, bending down to inspect the turned over table.

  “Remind me never to make you mad,” she said, smiling warmly.

  “This isn’t the time to make jokes. How could you keep this from me? What if I hurt someone?”

  Brooke tilted her head to the side, “I don’t know what to say to you big brother. I cannot give you an easy explanation.” She added, bending down to grab onto the one end of the table, “If not for Milla I would have thought I was going insane…” She paused before continuing, she’d hidden her abilities from the world for so long, not even her girlfriend Raven knew about what she could do. She’d only had to tell two people about her secret, and it was not by choice.

  Octavius of course totally freaked out on her because he’d made a promise to his sister, to Brooke’s mother Elle, that she’d be kept in complete darkness when it came to magic.

  “Brooke, you can tell my anything, I love you no matter what.” Asher had read the anguished expression on her face.

  “Even if I have the ability to change people’s thoughts?” She half smiled at her big brother, unsure how he’d react.

  Asher smiled wickedly, “That could be fun.”

  She smiled back, this time her eyes lighting up with relief. “It took me a while to come to terms with the fact I wasn’t insane myself.” They both gave a slight grunt as the turned the table back over onto its legs. “But then I got high with the power it gave me, I became someone I hated.” Brooke paused, her eyes staring into the deep scratch across an otherwise highly policed antique table. She sighed with thought. “That is why I smoke, it takes the edge off, dampens my ability, sometimes it feels like it gives me a. . .” she shrugged, “conscience, or keeps me grounded.” Her eyes touched the ceiling, searching a better way to express, “I feel tethered to myself.”

  Asher wasn’t sure what to say, he wanted to understand, he was her brother after all.

  He wiped the dirt from the table and dusted the dirt from his jeans. “All I can offer is my word that I won’t judge you, and trust that you know what is right. I don’t believe you would intentionally hurt anyone.”

  “Thanks.” Brooke pushed down tears.

  Six

  The living room was transformed into a fort built from blankets strung over chairs, tables, and strategically placed cocktail tables. The interior was plush with cushions and bedding, lit up with magical lights that looked like little sparkling fireflies frozen in time. Asher kept looking at the lightshow supplied by Milla’s magic and tried to remind himself he was still wide awake. Deep down, he knew he wasn’t freaking out as much as he should be. He had always had a suspicion his family were different. And perhaps his siblings, even the young twins knew, and he envied how as young as they were, handled it better than he seemed to.

  Milla began. “First let me explain the break in, as you would put it.” Milla looked between the Blossom siblings. Both twins lay sprawled over their big brother, eagerly waiting an explanation about all the magic speak. Brooke sat behind her big brother, braiding Asher’s hair, which he’d grown to just above his collar.

  Milla chewed and swallowed her popcorn, took a sip of milkshake and started her version of events that led up to the break-in, and why it was such an urgent matter that it had to be done in such a dramatic way.

  The Gugons Institute is not just a learning institute, it is a foster home for those abandoned by the world and it offers shelter to those hunted by evil. But those are stories for another time.” She smiled proudly before continuing. “Our institute acts as keepers of very dangerous artefacts. For millennia we pursue the artefacts, and ingredients that make up the worst of spells, scatter them to our guardians across the globe, and some to other dimensions.” Milla flicked a cornel of popcorn in the air, caught it in her mouth and chewed down. “A year ago we had a very peculiar artefact go missing,” her eyes darted to the invisible string holding up the lights that edged the makeshift- indoor tent. “In fact is was so peculiar we had thought it only a legend, until we really started looking at unsolved mystery of an unfinished spell cast a long time ago. Asher narrowed his eyes on Milla again.

  “The incident at the airport, which had your flight delayed, was the first hint you were the intended target. It wasn’t just a faulty fire-alarm. There was a person of interest on your flight – a person who was interested in the Blossom family – there was an incident that triggered an intervention response. This particular brand of magic is forbidden, and very quickly picked up by the guardians.”

  Asher bit down on his teeth to hold his temper, afraid of what he was capable of. He spoke through a clenched jaw. “Is that why they took so long to sweep the airport? It was an ‘incident’ they could not explain, wasn’t it?”

  “Magic gives off certain scents, and in certain cases, even radiation,” Caleb chipped in.

  “You read far too much fiction,” Cleo argued, side-eyeing her twin.

  Milla leaned over from her spot on the beanbag and ruffled Caleb’s fringe. “He’s absolutely right, Cleo.”

  “It might have confused the cops and the K9 unit” Caleb continued excited, as if he had just unravelled the mystery all by himself.

  “You sound way too proud,” Octavius said. He was lying on the sofa across from the living room tent, and had opened one eye to stare at his nephew as he spoke.

  “And you’re a little too clever for your age. I don’t think it’s healthy.” Asher stared down at his brother who was lying beside him with a book clutched to his chest, giving a slight smile as he spoke.

  Brooke hugged her little brother and kissed him on his cheek. “Well, I think it’s great.”

  “Gross.” Caleb said wiping at his cheek where his sister had kissed him. “He has a photographic memory. Everything he reads, he keeps in that brain of his,” Cleo added proudly. “Did you notice any suspicious people near you at the airport?” Milla asked Asher as she stretched her legs up on the coffee table.

  Asher thought for a while and then straightened, suddenly remembering something. “I never get jet-lag,” He said in realization, looking up at Milla. “This time, I got so ill, I could not even stand up.”

  “Could definitely be the effects of magic,” Milla said.

  “What is the object our family has that ‘someone’ needs so badly?” His asked sombrely.

  “This.” Cleo stood at the kitchen entrance with her locket dangling from her hand, a cloth for the spilt milkshake in the other.

  “How does she do that?” Asher probed, looking back to the spot Cleo had been sitting between him and Brooke on the floor only moments ago.

  “Do what?” Caleb gave a shrewd smile.

  “You move impossibly fast.” Asher added looking back at his little sister still standing in the doorway of the kitchen and living room area.

  “She’s not a vampire if that’s what you mean.” Brooke added.

  Then Caleb rolled over onto his back, paging through a book.

  “Although it would explain why she doesn’t sleep at night.” He added.

  “Your locket? Tell me more about the locket. What’s so special about it anyway?” Asher motioned for Cleo to approach, and took the locket from her for closer inspection. As he held the locket in her hand, the dull silver glow
of the key-shaped locket looked like nothing more than a pretty piece of jewellery. Certainly nothing to risk lives over.

  “It’s not the locket itself that is of interest. The locket is just one of the ingredients needed for a very dangerous spell.” Brooke explained.

  “What kind of spell?”

  Milla was almost hesitant to answer. She knew of Blossom blood curses, and what had transpired with Asher and the table earlier forced her to make a difficult choice. He wasn’t going to like what she had to tell him. She would have to reveal his dark family past in hopes the warning would save him from his Dark Avowal.

  Milla kept her gaze on Asher and could already sense the impending anger roiling inside of him. Taking into consideration how he still blamed himself for the accident that stole the lives of three loved ones, Milla knew he would also be very tempted to use the spell himself. She needed to ensure that wouldn’t happen.

  “Let’s take a walk,” she said to Asher, her eyes darting between the siblings who were silently arguing over the popcorn salts.

  Seven

  The song of the night was a symphony made up of chirping crickets, the deep croak of toads, and the distant hum of traffic. Milla stared up at glistening stars; she had seen brighter, but something about being on the brink of a magical war caused them to illuminate across the sky. Asher followed her gaze as they stopped between two trees at the street corner. The moon was high and swollen above them. It lit up the road and the nearby park. She looked back at him to check he was following, before carrying on walking. Asher rubbed the back of his neck as he followed her on the small path that ran between two russet gates marking the entrance of the small park.

  “Call me paranoid, Milla, but something tells me that I’m not going to like hearing what you have to say.”

  Milla, who still wore high-heeled boots, walked effortlessly on uneven ground. When a slight breeze lifter her hair, her tattoo behind her ear almost glowed like the sprinkles of the milky-way. He had never seen a tattoo like it – didn’t even know such ink existed. It was then he realized it was in the shape of a leaf. She turned to him and smiled causing him to gasp at how similar to Amanda she looked in that moment. It was a strange coincidence how she reminded him in more than one way of Amanda. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He played with Amanda’s ring between his fingers. Milla stopped and looked up to the sky, deep in thought. Asher was captivated by the unnatural glow of her tattoo.

  “I am afraid that what I have to say concerns the elders of your family; a curse your uncle promised to protect you against.”

  Asher stood beside her, watching her intently as her light blue eyes reflected the pale glow of the moon. She gave a wry smile before continuing. “Your family has a dark history. One that has long passed, but recently, has found its way back.”

  He wanted to ask if she always spoke like she was from another world. Instead, he knew he had to start coming to terms with the fact that she actually was from another world. She looked back down at him, her gaze meeting his stare as he studied her carefully. Her demeanour suddenly changed.

  “What is it?” he asked. He could positively feel the air around them growing denser and abrasive, like all he wanted to do was get out of his own skin. “What is it?” he asked again.

  Milla slapped her one hand over his mouth to stop him from talking and grabbed his hand with her other. Her gaze shot to the road beyond the rosebushes. “We’ve been follo…”

  Asher took her hand from his mouth and looked around. When he saw nothing, he turned back to her, only then noticing something was wrong.

  He shook her but she seemed to be frozen. “Milla. Milla, for goodness sake, let go of my hand!” He started to panic.

  She was unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing, hair-taken-to-the-wind, frozen in time. Whatever had happened to her seemed to have affected everything except himself. It took him a great struggle to get his hand free from hers.

  Right before him, two fireflies hung in the air like glowing lanterns. The night grew eerily still. In the silence, the feeling of wanting to crawl out of his own skin came in a thick wave one more time. He remembered this feeling – the feeling of total loss of your surroundings, of feeling helpless and powerless. He hated that more than anything after the accident.

  “Asher Blossom.” A voice came, but he wasn’t sure from where. At first, it seemed to come from behind him, but it also reverberated from beyond the trees behind Milla.

  The voice came again from all around him. “We have much to discuss.”

  Asher squared his shoulders, his fists tight at his sides while his body acted as a shield between the intruder and Milla. Although he was terrified, not knowing what to expect or how he could defend himself, let alone Milla, he would at least try.

  “Show yourself,” he demanded.

  The intruder slowly stepped from the shadows, his gait steady and deliberate as if he commanded nothing less than Asher’s full attention. The rosebushes bent backward as he came into view and with him, the intruder brought a very peculiar scent that drowned out the aroma of roses. It was like pickles and sweet, over-ripe, watermelon. He thought of what his little brother had said about magic carrying weird smells. The figure disappeared again, causing Asher to whirl around on the spot, helplessly.

  “What spell did you use on her?” His voice grew gruff with anger.

  “I was told that you, Asher Blossom, are an enchanter virgin. Yet you know the smell of magic?”

  When Asher blinked, the figure stood mere inches away from him. The stranger’s face was shrouded by darkness and Asher could only make out the tilt of his head as the street light illuminated his figure from behind. He was tall, lean and, as his one hand came up, he saw how long and scrawny he was. It reminded him of the hand held inside the glass case of Octavius’s secret lair. Nothing less than skeletal.

  “What is it you want Skeletor?”

  “Mighty bold words for someone who stands before death.” The stranger’s breath reeked of pungent decay.

  Asher snorted. “Unless you are the Grimm Reaper, I suggest you find yourself a new name other than Death. It’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

  The stranger laughed. It was a grating sound that hurt Asher’s ears.

  “You give me what I need and I will give you your little girlfriend back.”

  Asher stepped back. The moon appeared to grow in the night sky, and with it, more light shone down into the park, like a massive spotlight shining down on Milla. His head turned to her to see what his mind refused to believe he was seeing. Her skin was like sand – shiny and grainy - breakable. As the wind picked up, it took a fine layer of her sandy skin with it. It was as if she was slowly drifting away into the breeze.

  “Stop,” Asher cried out.

  “Give me what I want and it will stop.”

  “I don’t have anything you want?” he insisted.

  The man stepped half into the light, his face illuminated by the stark glow of the moon. His cheekbones were hollow, but his eyes were the color of a summer storm over a tropical ocean and they held so much depth. Asher narrowed his gaze on the man before him.

  “Who are you?” He moved closer to the hostile stranger.

  “Your time is running out, Mr Blossom.” The man cradled his jaw in his hand, and he pulled in a deep breath as if about to release a huge blast of air.

  Asher looked to Milla, whose platinum hair was taking to the wind like drifting dust in the vacuum of space. His gaze went back to the dark stranger.

  “The locket? I have it,” He barked, pulling it from his pocket. Knowing well enough what all the fuss was of late. “Let her go and you can have it,” he pleaded.

  “Like you can stop me from taking it.”

  “You don’t have all you need for your spell, do you? Or like you said, you would have taken this already.” Asher dangled the locket before him. “Or is it something else.” He studied the skeletal man. “It’s because you’re being trac
ked and I think they are getting close. Why else take the risk of exposing yourself like this? Let her go and I can find the remaining ingredients for your spell.”

  “You don’t even know what it is I require.”

  “Whatever it is, I will do it. Just stop what you are doing to her.”

  “Swear it,” the dark stranger said.

  “I swear it,” Asher said, not realising he was making a pact with the devil.

  “On the life of your family.” The man sounded pleased with himself.

  Asher bit down on his jaw. “Yes.” He spoke through clenched teeth.

  “You have less than twelve hours then the memory spell I just cast on her will start to wear off on this one.” With the slight tilt of his head, he gestured to Milla.

  Asher groaned, a guttural unpleasant sound resonating from his core. “You have your deal.”

  And just like that, the moon pulled back into the sky, and the night became a darker shade of summer. Milla stood, staring at him, appearing normal again.

  “You look like you have seen a ghost,” she said, pulling a face.

  “No, I…” He touched her face to make sure she was there and in one solid piece.

  “Cut that out, weirdo.” She said, slapping him away.

  He smiled. “What were you about to tell me again?” He asked.

  She gave her best reassuring smile. “Simply put, you have a family member, a great uncle who tampered with a Time spell.” She waited for some kind of recognition in his eyes but there was nothing.

  “Tampered, how exactly?” he asked.

  “As with all magic and spells, they come at a cost – the cost of keeping the universal balance. His price was his soul. He gave into the dark forces and is now driven by one thing only, to turn back time and fix what is broken inside of him.”

  Asher’s brows furrowed together.

  “The Blossom Blood men have always walked a tricky path between the light and the dark.”