Blackheath Resurrection (The Blackheath Witches Book 2)

by Gabriella Lepore

  “You think everyone’s weedy,” Joel said with a laugh.

  Charlie puffed out his enormous chest. “Yeah, cause everyone is weedy compared to the big dog.” He slapped his chest with his palm.

  Joel and Kaden grinned.

  They turned a corner and the arcade’s neon sign came into view. Already the scent of hot wings was seeping towards them. As they crossed the parking lot, Joel patted his pockets to check for loose change.

  “So, I’m thinking,” came Maggie’s voice as she sidled up beside him, slipping her arm through his, “that we should pool our money and go big. I’m talking chilli fries, wings, maybe even a Coke . . .”

  “Anything but toast,” Joel said with a lopsided smile.

  Maggie flipped her palms skyward and smiled. When they reached the arcade’s entrance, Joel held the door for her and they followed Charlie, Kaden, and the other girls inside.

  The ringing of games machines and the thrum of music filled the air. Ahead was a bowling alley, to the right was a food court, and to the left were pinball machines, air hockey, pool tables, and a myriad of simulation games.

  The arcade seemed to be the one place in Blackheath where everyone went. Even long after Joel and Maggie had drifted apart, he’d see her in here with her friends. Sometimes he’d look over at her, and sometimes she’d look back. Now he could proudly look at her, and she would always look back.

  “I need a challenge,” Kaden’s voice broke through Joel’s reverie.

  Joel turned to face him. “Huh?”

  “A challenge,” repeated Kaden, offering a pool cue to Joel. “An opponent.” He grinned.

  Joel smirked back and shrugged. “Your funeral.”

  The words, though said in jest, made goose flesh spread across his arms. He shook the feeling aside and took the cue. Then he and Kaden walked deeper into the arcade to stake claim on a pool table.

  Joel chalked his cue while Kaden racked up the balls.

  “Your break,” Kaden said, stepping back to give Joel room.

  Joel casually lined up his cue and took a shot. The white cue ball ricocheted across the table and broke apart the neat triangle of multi-coloured balls, scattering them like crows at a gunshot. A few dropped into pockets.

  “Nice one,” Kaden said.

  “Thanks.”

  As they played, Joel noticed how precise Kaden was at lining up his targets. He rarely missed, in fact.

  “You’re good,” he said. “Did you play a lot growing up?”

  Kaden shrugged before bending down to take his next shot. The cue ball rebounded off the cue and knocked two of Kaden’s balls into opposite corner pockets. He looked up. “Not really. I’m just a logical thinker. It’s simple maths.” Kaden lowered his cue and demonstrated again, sending another ball rocketing into a corner pocket.

  Joel raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maths guy,” he muttered, assessing the table where the odds were quite clearly stacked in Kaden’s favour. “You’re good,” he accepted again.

  Kaden rested his chin on the tip of his cue and smirked. “I know.”

  His next attempt was a miss, however, when Isla bounced up beside him to plant a kiss on his cheek just as he was taking his shot.

  “You want food?” she asked, oblivious to her blunder.

  “In a bit,” Kaden said. “We’re just finishing up here.”

  “Okay,” Isla relented. “Miss you already!” she called giddily as she ran back across the arcade towards the food court.

  “Do you want a do-over?” Joel offered.

  “Nah,” said Kaden. “There are no do-overs in life. It’s your shot.”

  Joel took his turn, pocketing three balls in a row. When there was only the black ball left, he gestured to the corner pocket and shot. The ball spiralled into the awaiting pocket, and Joel grinned.

  Kaden chuckled. “Not bad, but . . .” He hovered his hand above the corner pocket. “Relevé,” he whispered.

  The black ball popped back up, landing on the felt table with a smack.

  Joel tutted. “Nice try, but . . .” He directed his palm towards the ball. “Return,” he murmured, concentrating his energy into moving it across the table.

  At his command, the black ball rolled back into the corner pocket and sank into the net.

  The boys looked at each other and laughed.

  It was strange, using witchcraft in public. Evan would never have let that happen. Maximus wouldn’t have, either. They always hid it. Always. In fact, Joel had grown up feeling ashamed of what he was. Of who he was. But not Kaden. No, he was liberated. The Fallows had taught him tricks, and he wasn’t afraid to use them.

  Suddenly Joel felt the sensation of eyes on him. He looked up and saw Evan across the arcade, coming towards them.

  “Hey,” Joel greeted him uneasily, fearful that he’d been caught using witchcraft. Or worse, that he’d been caught having fun with Kaden. “What are you doing here? I thought you went home.”

  “Ainsley’s in a reading with Topaz,” Evan explained, standing at a safe distance from the table. “And Pippin’s in bed, so I thought I’d come join you. Why aren’t you guys in the food court with everyone else?”

  “Kaden thought he could beat me at pool,” Joel joked, trying to defuse the tension in Evan’s eyes. “Can you believe this kid?” He thumbed towards Kaden, who now stood on the side lines with a hard expression that matched Evan’s.

  Evan forced a smile.

  There was a long pause.

  “Do you want to play?” Joel picked up his cue and offered it to Evan. “With Kaden, I mean?”

  Evan stared down at the cue, then back at Joel. “No, thanks.”

  Joel clenched his teeth.

  Take the cue, Evan, he fumed silently

  No.

  Joel felt Evan’s response loud and clear.

  Give him a chance, Joel thought, his eyes still locked on Evan’s. He’s our brother.

  No, came Evan’s reply.

  Joel sighed. Since when was Evan the stubborn brother and Joel the open-minded one?

  “It’s okay,” Kaden said in a voice that was hollow and guarded—not at all like the friendly tone he’d used with Joel just moments earlier. “I’m bored of pool, anyway. Do you wanna go play air hockey, Joel?”

  Joel cringed as Evan’s cheeks began to flush with anger.

  Oh, great, Joel thought, his shoulders sagging.

  He didn’t like feeling like the pig in the middle. And he really didn’t like when Evan was mad at him. He hated the thought of something coming between them. He and Evan had always been so close. They walked in sync, talked in sync, thought in sync . . .

  Joel looked pleadingly at Evan, willing him to bend on this. Willing him to swallow his pride and say that he’d play the winner. Willing him to let this whole Kaden thing be okay.

  But he didn’t.

  So Joel didn’t, either.

  “Later, maybe,” he said to Kaden. “I’ve got to go see Maggie, anyway. She’s got chilli fries.”

  He noticed a shadow of disappointment cross Kaden’s face, and instantly a wave of guilt washed over him.

  But he’d done the right thing.

  Kaden may have been his brother. But Evan was everything.

  A DOOR CREAKED open, letting a slice of dim light into the dark room.

  “Boys?” croaked an old voice.

  From inside an intricate fort constructed of sheets, pillowcases, and t-shirts, seven-year-old Joel shone a torch out through a gap. He spotlighted Quite Old Aunt Ruby hovering in the bedroom doorway. Her long silver hair hung in matted tresses over her well-worn dressing gown.

  “Alleged Aunt,” he greeted her.

  “Go to bed now, dears,” said Ruby. “It’s late.”

  “Sure,” Joel answered.

  Inside the fort, he turned to his eight-year-old brother Evan and shrugged. “Whatever. She won’t check on us again,” he whispered. “She’s old. Old people sleep a lot, right?”

  “She’s not that old,�
�� Evan replied in a hushed voice. “She’s only quite old. And she doesn’t sleep at night, anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  Joel was only recently starting to learn these important facts about their alleged aunts. Maximus had only been gone three weeks, so Joel was still getting to know the ropes of co-habiting with the elder relatives. It baffled him that Evan seemed so clued up already.

  That one year must have given him a huge head start, decided Joel.

  Evan shrugged in response to this particular question. Even he didn’t have the answer this time.

  Joel shone the torch at him. “Let’s ask her.”

  Evan nodded in concurrence.

  “Ruby?” Joel called, poking his head out of the den again.

  “Yes, dearest dear.”

  “Why don’t you sleep at night?”

  “Why don’t you?” she replied without missing a beat.

  “I’m seven. I don’t care about sleep,” Joel said simply. “Sleep is for old people. Sorry, I mean quite old people,” he amended.

  “Well, dear little lamb chop,” she mused, hobbling closer to the fort and peering down at the two grubby faces inside its confines. “I like to keep watch at night,” she said. “Wonderful things happen at night time.”

  Joel’s gaze narrowed. “Then I don’t think it’s fair that you ask us to sleep.”

  “Wonderful things only happen at night time to me,” she backtracked. “Besides, it is my duty to keep watch.”

  Joel shot Evan a puzzled look.

  “Okay . . .” he said slowly.

  “Good night, youngsters,” said Ruby with a kind smile.

  Joel pulled the sheet across, enclosing himself and his brother inside the den once more. “She’s crackers,” he muttered. “I like her.”

  The two boys reclined onto their pillows and Joel aimed the torch at the thin linen roof. For a long while, neither of them spoke.

  “Do you dream about him?” Evan asked distantly.

  “No.”

  It was a lie, of course. Maximus had only been gone for twenty-one days, but Joel had dreamed of his return twenty-one times. And then, every time, he’d awoken, and the pain would start anew.

  Maybe wonderful things did only happen at night time, he mused.

  “Do you dream about him?” Joel returned the question.

  Evan didn’t respond.

  They lay in silence for a while longer.

  “Sometimes I dream about storms,” said Joel. “Wind that tears the trees apart, rain that falls so hard it hurts . . .”

  “Earth that shakes,” Evan put in. “Fire that closes in on us, hot, angry . . .”

  Joel shone the torch at him. “Okay, let’s stop talking about that. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Okay,” said Evan, “Let’s make up a story.”

  “Okay. But a good one this time. Nothing lame.”

  They leaned their heads close to each other so that the strands of their hair intertwined, blonde weaving through brown.

  “Once there were two boys,” Evan began, putting on a silly voice.

  “Who had everything,” Joel continued, mimicking his brother’s tone.

  “Because the world belonged to them . . .”

  “Because they were strong.”

  “And brave!”

  Joel paused. “And possibly rich.”

  “Definitely rich,” Evan confirmed.

  “And then the storm came—”

  “No, Joel,” Evan said, kicking him. “We said we weren’t going to talk about the storm.”

  “And then the storm came,” Joel went on adamantly. “But it didn’t matter, because they were safe. They had each other. They had everything.”

  THE WEEK PASSED by and soon Friday came. Isla was moving back into the dorms that evening, and Kaden would go with her—unbeknownst to Ms Joy, of course, whom Kaden assured them he could easily outmanoeuvre. How he planned on accomplishing that, Joel could not be sure. And he didn’t ask, either.

  Maggie, for the time being, would stay with Joel in the mansion. Joel couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was about being with him, and how much was about not being with Kaden. He didn’t care either way, however. If the arrangement meant that he got to be with Maggie, then he was happy. And if he had to charm Ms Joy again, so be it.

  Regardless of anyone else’s reservations about Kaden, Joel trusted him. He knew him, instinctively and innately. And he knew that if he and his brothers wanted to have any kind of shot at finding Evangeline through the Venatus spell, then they would have to act now, before Kaden left the mansion for good.

  So Joel turned to Evan, appealing to him for what felt like the hundredth time. They stood alone in the school parking lot amongst the bustle of students climbing into their cars at the end of the day.

  “What harm will it do?” Joel urged, pleadingly.

  “I just . . .” Evan exhaled one long, laden breath. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s just it!” Joel threw up his hands. “We don’t know. We don’t know anything. We’ve tried summoning, we’ve tried everything we know. Maybe this will work, and maybe it won’t. But don’t you want to at least try?” He lowered his voice as a junior varsity player hopped into a black Ford parked beside the Jeep. “Aren’t you worried about what’ll happen to our mother if we don’t?”

  Evan glanced around furtively. “Of course I am,” he said at last. “Of course I want to find her. But why do we have to involve him?”

  “Well, who else is going to help us? It’s not like we’re inundated with applicants.”

  They watched as the Ford reversed out of its spot.

  “It’s a powerful spell,” Evan pointed out. “It might be too big for us.”

  Joel shook his head. “This isn’t about the Venatus spell. It’s about Kaden.”

  Evan shifted in discomfort and looked towards the school. There was still no sign of Ainsley, Kaden, and the girls.

  “Evan,” Joel pleaded, his voice calmer now. “Please. I just . . . I want to try.”

  After a long pause, Evan sighed. It was the reticent ‘yes’ that Joel had been waiting for.

  “Thank you,” Joel exhaled. “You’re not going to regret this.”

  Neither of them spoke again until the others arrived, and even then, Evan remained largely silent, lost in his thoughts.

  Joel drove home fast from school that day, fearful that at any moment Evan would change his mind. Occasionally he glanced into his rear-view mirror and managed a weak smile for Maggie and the others. But he didn’t once look at Evan in the front seat beside him. He was too scared of the expression he might see.

  So instead, he just kept driving. Faster.

  IN THE HIGHEST turret of the mansion, where a cylindrical room provided a three-sixty panoramic view of the moonlit forest, Joel, Evan, Ainsley, and Kaden formed a circle in the centre of the room. On the floor beside them, Pippin played with a pebble, rolling it across the hardwood.

  “Venatus,” Joel read aloud from Maximus’s journal. “To track the path of the lost. Follow the trail until that what is lost is returned.”

  The boys were silent for a moment, allowing the words to sink in. Around them, the candle flames flickered in the shadowy room and a draught trickled in through the gaps beneath the windows.

  Evan bit his lower lip and took the journal from Joel. “Okay, there are six lines,” he said, scanning the worn page. “We can each say one, starting with me and ending with Pippin, oldest to youngest. Then we’ll say the final line together.”

  Ainsley glanced around the circle. “So I’m after Joel?”

  Evan shook his head. “No. You’re after Kaden. Kaden is the third brother.” His jaw clenched. “I mean, the third son.”

  “Hold up.” Joel reached out and tilted the journal so that he could read from the page. “Do you really think Pippin can say ‘Witches five, together speak’?” He crouched to Pippin’s eye level. “Can you say that, Pip?”

 
“Say that, Pip,” Pippin echoed happily.

  Joel stood up and met Evan’s gaze. He shrugged.

  Pursing his lips, Evan crouched down now, too. “Witches five,” he said slowly.

  Pippin blinked back at him. “Joel,” he said.

  Evan stood up. “He wants you to do it.”

  Again Joel crouched to the floor. “Witches five,” he began.

  “Witch five,” Pippin said, holding up five sticky fingers.

  “Good!” Joel praised him. He glanced up at Evan. “Well, good enough, right?”

  Evan scratched his head. “I guess so.”

  Joel turned his attention back to Pippin. “Together speak,” he went on.

  “Gether peak.” Pippin’s eyes widened like a hopeful puppy, waiting to be rewarded.

  “Uh, good,” said Joel. “Now, Pip, can you say it all together? In one go? Witches five, together speak . . .”

  “Witch five, gether peak . . .”

  Evan, Joel, and Ainsley cheered.

  Only Kaden seemed unmoved. “How are we going to get him to say the final line too?”

  “You can do it, can’t you?” Joel encouraged, ruffling Pippin’s curls. “I can whisper it into his ear or something.”

  “How can you?” Kaden pressed. “You’ll be saying the spell, too. You’ll need to focus. We can’t mess around with witchcraft. If we screw this up . . .” He rubbed his brow, pushing away a few jet black strands. “Who knows what will happen?”

  Evan and Joel looked between each other nervously.

  “It’s okay for the Chosen One over there,” Kaden went on, thumbing towards Evan. “He’s got enough natural ability to pull this off. But witches have died trying to do simpler spells than this. And they’re just kids,” he added, casting a glance to Ainsley and Pippin. “And I’m just a hybrid, remember?”

  The Tomlins boys swapped a glance.

  “Ainsley and Pippin are Tomlinses,” Evan said tightly. “They’re capable.”

  “Evan, he didn’t mean—” Joel began.

  Evan cut him off and continued. “And you’re a Fallows hybrid,” he said to Kaden, unable to mask the hint of contempt that had crept into his tone. “You’ve been trained by the best, you’ll be fine. Having someone whisper into Pippin’s ear might work.”