Term One

by K M Charron

  “It can’t be a coincidence that this Saskia shares the Lockwood name,” Ainsley said with an authority she didn’t have.

  “You don’t need to defend me,” Sydney spat.

  “Oh my God, you’re unreal,” Justin barked back, shaking his head. “If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have the invocation in the first place.”

  Justin’s words stung to her core. They’d never been at odds like this before, not before Ainsley showed up. A middling was changing everything between them, and he didn’t care.

  Steeling herself, she said, “Whatever, let’s do the spell.” She’d deal with him when this was all over, and everyone was safe.

  Jax and Ava dropped their bags on the ground in front of Saskia’s name. Langston pulled out the grimoire and moved next to them.

  It was time for her to take charge again. “We need to draw the pentagram and sit around the circle, one of us at every point.” Syd shooed everyone away and traced the symbol into the snow. She held out her hand toward Ava, “Candles.”

  Ava rifled through her bag and pulled out six large, white pillar candles, handing them to Syd and Jax. They placed five on the points of the star and set the sixth in the center.

  The wind was still, but the air was chilling—a heavy blanket of icy dampness. Sydney did her best to calm her nerves, so she could help Jax lead the spell. Her mind raced and blanked in turn, the way it did when under pressure in the Main Hall. But the consequences tonight could be far worse than a negative mark in testing.

  Jax emptied the rest of the bags, lining materials up in between them. They needed the power of candlelight, so she closed her eyes, moved her hand across the space in front of her, and heard the soft whoosh of wicks igniting. She told Khourtney and Jax to do a quick protection spell around them, just in case the shifter decided to make an appearance. There was no way she could let anything happen while they were communing with Saskia.

  “You did that?” Ainsley said, sounding very much in awe.

  Sydney ignored this. Ainsley’s delayed respect wasn’t welcome. She gathered the spell’s ingredients, while Jax retrieved his mortar and pestle. Langston helped her add the grave root, salt, wormwood, willow, and yew. “Now grind them together while saying the spell. Jax will lead.”

  While the others began repeating the mantra, Sydney moved to the middle of the pentagram and sat cross-legged in front of the candle. She took the mortar from Jax and the grimoire from Langston. “Everyone hold hands and don’t break the chant.”

  They did as told, included Ainsley, who also sat along the circle. Syd noticed the wind picking up dramatically. It was working. Taking a small trowel, she forced it into the rigid earth directly in front of the headstone. It took effort since the ground was cold and hard, but she managed to get a good-sized chunk to spring forth and dropped the dirt into the mixture. She could see just enough with the candlelight to read the spell and began the incantation as the others continued their rhythmic chant.

  The flames flickered, casting shadows and making the forest look malevolent, a fact she quickly shoved from her mind.

  Closing her eyes, she noted the way her body grew warm, and she allowed the heaviness of the Dark magic to build up inside her. It was an urgent pressure—like something beneath the layers of her bones and muscles wanted to break free. She fought the urge to release it, repeating the chant instead. A sudden gust whipped around them, shaking the tree branches overhead and dropping snow all around them.

  It was time for the last ingredient. Grasping a small knife that had been bathed in holy water, she sliced the palm of her hand and released a small trickle of blood into the mortar. Blood was the key. A sacrifice was needed to unlock the space between the two astral planes. Since she now knew that Saskia was her ancestor, Sydney felt sure her blood would guarantee a connection.

  The center of the mortar burst into flames. The screech of an owl circling overhead made her breath hitch. Fighting the compulsion to cover her ears, Sydney kept her palms open at her sides. “Per lux spirituum, et invocabo Lockwood et deprecati sunt ei Cornelius, et exaudi nos vocatio ad evigilare faciatis!”

  Her heartbeat quickened as the words left her mouth. Sydney’s body grew stiff, her skin slick with sweat. The air around them began churning so loudly, they could’ve been in a hurricane. Her hair whipped, hitting her face and obscuring her view. The flames and the blaze in the mortar burst into massive fireballs before going out, leaving them all in hushed blackness.

  Ainsley

  The fire had illuminated the entirety of the forested area around them before pitching them into darkness. Ainsley gasped, her muscles caught in a twist of fatigue and anxiety. “What’s happening?” she said, her words barely registering beyond a whisper.

  Instantaneously, the candle wicks glowed again with a steady flame, their warm radiance allowing Ainsley to see the others. Her eyes trailed around their circle, stopping when she noticed a translucent figure hovering above Sydney’s head. She jerked back, trying to wrench her hands out of Justin and Ava’s.

  A dark-haired woman floated above them. Saskia. “Um, guys,” she began. It came out as little more than a hoarse whisper, so Ainsley pointed at the apparition with her chin.

  Justin and Ava glanced up and let go of her hands.

  Justin nodded, whispering, “I see her. It’s okay.”

  Ainsley kept her eyes on the floating woman. She didn’t look the way Cassidy had, hanging in space. This was more ethereal, almost angelic. It was beautiful. Saskia appeared confused, unsure where she was or even that they had summoned her.

  Sydney quickly wrapped her bleeding hand in a handkerchief and gained her feet. “Thank you for coming,” she said in a frail voice that Ainsley didn’t recognize.

  “It was not my decision.” The ghostly woman wore a white dress that billowed out around her, her long hair floating away from her head like someone suspended underwater.

  Images of Cassidy flashed in Ainsley’s mind. The way her hair had stuck out around her, too, the sickly way her mouth stretched open. Then Cassidy was replaced by her father’s pleading eyes that last night on the rooftop.

  Saskia’s sharp voice broke Ainsley’s hypnotic state.

  “Who are you, and why have you awakened me from my eternal rest?” Her mouth formed a thin line, her skin transparent with a bluish tint to it. Ainsley suspected it was the shade a new corpse might take.

  Ainsley held her breath and looked between Sydney and Saskia, attempting to gauge what would happen next.

  Sydney nearly curtsied. “I apologize for disturbing you, but we need your help. It’s a matter of life and death.” She kept her shoulders back and her hands steady, but Ainsley saw the mild tremor beneath the handkerchief that was staunching her blood.

  Justin stood slowly with his hands up in surrender. “We’re truly sorry we had to call on you.”

  “Call on me?” Saskia’s head moved from side to side so quickly it appeared like a glitch on a video game. “Whose blood was used to summon me?” She glared at them all, one by one.

  Ainsley’s felt frozen in place, barely breathing. What if Saskia wouldn’t help them? Worse, what if she punished them for conjuring her spirit? Maybe Justin was right, and this was considered a mortal sin on both sides of the deathly plane.

  Everyone looked at Sydney, who stepped forward. “Mine. It was my blood, but please understand—”

  Saskia raised a translucent hand. At once, Sydney grasped at her throat. She struggled, clearly trying to speak but unable to get the words out. Only small scratching sounds escaped from her mouth.

  “Our people forbid necromancy, yet here I am called by the blood of my own. You are from my lineage, I can feel it. How dare you use magic as this to wrench me back onto this Earth!”

  Sweat beaded on Ainsley’s forehead and upper lip, her body trembled. The others seemed equally flustered. “It was,” she choked out the words, “my idea.” The words hung there, unable to be called back. What would the ancient wi
tch do to her now?

  Saskia’s stare left Sydney, and she retracted her hand, her eyes narrowing onto Ainsley. Sydney clutched her throat and sucked in gulps of air. Saskia glided over, pausing in front of Ainsley.

  “You?” she asked. “But you are no witch.”

  A prickling sensation began in Ainsley’s stomach and moved down her arms and legs. “What are you doing? Stop it,” she called out. Shivers ran from the top of her head, down her spine, out her arms, and down her legs as the dead witch examined her.

  “But you are something,” Saskia said in confusion, before releasing whatever magic she’d used on her. “Although I have no idea what.”

  Ainsley collapsed forward, letting out a huge breath as she tried to steady herself in spite of her spotty vision. She’d never experienced anything like that before. Dark, bitter cold prickled so deep inside her that she wondered if death itself were near. She never wanted to feel it again.

  Sydney cleared her throat, doing her best to regain Saskia’s focus. “Most revered Ancestor, you must know that if we, the apprentices of your ancient and eternal coven, call for you, it is not in haste.”

  Ainsley had never heard Sydney use such a tone or language before, but maybe it would help Saskia relate to them better.

  Sydney put her hand over her heart. “We come seeking your help. I’ve made a huge error. I stumbled upon the underground room—the one that held a shapeshifting entity.” Her eyes shifted from Saskia to the ground. Shame dulled her features. “I didn’t know what it was, and I didn’t understand the symbol on the door, so I opened it.” She closed her eyes, sighed. “I’m afraid the shifter is once again loose.”

  Fear wrapped itself around Ainsley’s heart and stuck in her throat as she watched Saskia’s form flicker again. Ainsley had to find her voice, find a way to make Saskia understand. Fists clenched, she forced the words. “I was there too. I insisted on opening the door. I am responsible for letting it out.”

  Justin cleared his throat. “Máthair Saskia, it has already attacked two witches and an innocent middling, a non-magical person. We need your help to lock it back up.”

  A furious scowl transformed Saskia’s face from angel to demon. “You did what?!” Ainsley watched as the witches cowered at the rumble that Saskia’s voice created in the air. Her voice ripped through the cold night, shaking branches and whipping leaves around in a frenzied wind. Snow fell around them. “How long have I been from the Earth?” Saskia bellowed. Her beautiful face contorted with rage. “How long?”

  Langston stepped in front of Sydney, who looked like she was going to collapse with fear. “Nearly four-hundred years,” he shouted over the whirling chaos.

  The wind stilled. Saskia remained suspended, blinking slowly as she took in the information. “I see.” She disappeared, only to reappear directly in front of Langston. She placed a hand on top of his head, and he blanched. “The entity, what has it done to you?” She seemed to be considering him and then closed her eyes. “You had magic once, but now you do not. How is this?” Her glassy eyes sprung back open.

  Langston jolted back to the present. He swallowed hard before answering. “The shapeshifter attacked another witch and me. It tried to murder us, but before it could, it drained us of our magic. It would’ve killed me if the Elders and two apprentices hadn’t rescued me. We believe it’s hunting witches in retribution for being locked away.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Locked away by you.”

  Saskia’s face seemed to soften, the glow from the candlelight flickering through her having an eerie effect. “Do I detect blame? It could not have attacked anyone had you left well enough alone. I bound, sealed, and marked that room.” Her voice rose with indignation. “How stupid this generation must be to see the ropes and remove them, to witness the warding on the door and yet open it.”

  “No one blames you,” Sydney pleaded. “It was our mistake and ours alone. But please, we need your help before it attacks other witches—maybe kills them.”

  “And it will kill,” Saskia declared. “How long has it been free?”

  Ainsley’s heart hit the bottom of her gut. “Since the middle of October,” she admitted. “Almost two months. We didn’t know anything had gotten out for a while. Not until…”

  Saskia’s dark gray eyes, void of irises, narrowed. “Until you found animal corpses? Their bodies missing all organs?”

  Ainsley met Ava’s eyes and then Justin’s, but she said nothing, casting her eyes to the ground. On the one hand, it was a relief that Saskia knew what they were dealing with, but on the other, it made her even more terrified.

  “Yes, quite a few,” Sydney said in a steadier voice. "We found a freshly killed deer nearby only an hour ago.”

  “It has been feeding, building up its strength after so long. It stuns the animal, drains its life force, and eats the flesh to fortify itself. It does not feast on food the way humans do. When it lived in my village—in human form—I never saw it eat.”

  She turned her focus back to Langston. “You said it attacked you and took your magic?” Her tone was curious but quickly moved to alarmed. “It eats animals. I hadn’t known it to eat people or take their life forces,” she continued. “I only saw it attack once. There is much I do not know.”

  Ainsley shuddered, imagining what it might feel like to have her soul sucked from her or her flesh gnawed.

  Sydney stepped out from behind Langston’s protection.

  Saskia seemed to gather her thoughts. “We found bodies of eviscerated animals and believed it to be the work of some depraved being. We searched our village for anything that seemed wrong. All the villagers were accounted for until the night I watched the shifter kill my friend and take his place. I did not know it was capable of taking a witch’s power.” She reeled back and, for the first time, appeared nervous. “It had remarkable strength all those years ago, and now it possesses the magic of two witches. Have there been others, could it have more now?”

  “No, not from our coven. We would know about it,” Khourtney said.

  Ainsley had nearly forgotten she was there.

  “There must be a way to kill it,” Ainsley insisted. “We know you couldn’t back then, but maybe now—”

  Saskia’s eyes changed from dull gray to charcoal to glowing orange. Her head swiveled unnaturally as she regarded Ainsley. “You think that if there were a way, I would have failed to find it, child? We tried to slay it many times when we captured it but were unsuccessful. That is why I trapped and bound it. The form it takes—that fog—it is pure energy. I’m not aware of any way to destroy energy. Capturing and trapping it again is possible, but it will prove difficult,” Saskia said, sounding nearly amiable now.

  “There’s got to be a way,” Justin said. “You did it before with the help of your coven. There are five of us with powers. Maybe that’s enough.”

  “How do you know what I did all those years ago?” Her mouth formed a rigid line.

  Ainsley tensed, the muscles in her back and stomach ached from the tension, but she couldn’t relax.

  “A coven historian told me about your legend and deeds,” Sydney explained. “Please, we’ll do whatever you say.”

  Saskia rested her chin atop her fingers.

  Ainsley still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that she could see through this witch-spirit. She only saw a faint glimmer of snow-capped trees, but they were was there nonetheless.

  “Please,” Sydney repeated.

  “I will help you, but you must do exactly as I say. My coven sisters and I had prepared a room—a room constructed to bind and trap malevolent beings—months before. When something began slaughtering our animals, we worried a demon had risen. I knew it was not a demon when it murdered my friend and dropped its flesh, revealing the fog.”

  “Mathias,” Sydney said, thinking of the man from the lore.

  Saskia’s eyes focused intently on Sydney. “It appears much of what your historian knows is true. Yes, my friend Mathias. When I confronte
d the shifter the next day in front of the villagers, I was without my good sense. Overcome with grief, I acted foolishly, nearly putting my coven and myself in peril. Luckily for us, the villagers were willing to overlook my magic if it meant stopping the entity, but that was only after I exposed it for what it was. I will help you to recreate the binding runes, but you will have to find the entity and get it to the room that held it before or somewhere new that is impenetrable and hidden. You cannot repeat my mistake —it must never be released again.

  “You will have to capture it in human form,” Saskia continued. “If it reverts to the mist, it is too unpredictable—it could drain more of your magic and kill any of you, maybe all of you. If you can trap it and bind it with runes, you may be able to cast weakening spells on it and lock it away.”

  Ainsley might as well have been punched in the stomach. “How are we supposed to lure it back there, especially now that it knows we’re hunting it? How are we going to know who it is? It can look like anyone. We need to make sure we’re not trapping a real person.” Her panic at the enormity of the task was growing exponentially.

  “We’ll figure out a way,” Sydney snapped before rotating back to Saskia. “Once we weaken it and trap it, will Langston and the other witch get their magic back?”

  There was so much hope in Syd’s voice that Ainsley almost couldn’t bear it. Langston appeared suspended, unblinking and barely breathing, waiting for the answer that would define his future.

  Saskia stopped to look at Langston. “I suspect the shifter trapped your magic within its own energy field.” Her eyes softened, and her form seemed to dull slightly. “The only way I can see to regain your powers is if the shifter dies. Only then would the magic be set free. If you only bind it, the magic will remain tethered to the entity.” She seemed to sigh. “And seeing that it cannot die, I am afraid your stolen magic will not return.”

  Langston buckled, a sob escaping his throat. Jax and Sydney each grabbed an arm and held him upright, his body quaking. Justin rushed over to help support him.