Hella couldn’t respond. Couldn’t open her eyes or tell them she could hear. She slipped in and out of consciousness. The next thing she heard, Sian said, ‘Hella, your parents are here. So is Remy.’ Then the woman, Sian, spoke to her parents. ‘Hold her still.’
Hella felt warm hands on her shoulders, and another two hands on her legs, pulling on the wound, she gasped. In darkness, Hella pictured what the room must look like. She had only caught a glimpse of Sian, but she seemed firm and confident in what she was doing. In one seemingly swift movement, she felt a hand on her leg, right by the wound, then a searing sharp pain, and the feather was removed.
Her eyes snapped open in time to see the rivulet of blood pour from her leg onto the couch and over Sian’s hands wrapping a white bandage over Hella’s wound. The bandage was soaked red within a few seconds. Her breathing rapid, Hella tried to sit up.
Sian placed a firm, blood-stained hand on her arm. ‘No, Hella. Lie back down.’
Her father leaned around from behind Hella. ‘Come on, kiddo.’ He helped her relax, patting her shoulder, as her mother watched on nervously, and Remy remained silent.
‘Can’t you just magic-heal me or something?’ Hella heard herself speak as if from a distance.
Sian’s mouth quirked into a smile. ‘I’m afraid not. Witches can’t heal, Hella. Only the Cambion Family, Sana, are healers. But I can help, don’t worry.’ She finished with the bandage, then tied it off carefully. She wiped her hands on a rag, then moved to sit by Hella. ‘I’m sorry about this. The angels can sometimes sense magical powers, and I guess they found yours now that you’ve been activated. And you’re strong, too. Your aura probably shines very brightly for them to see.’
Everything swirled in her head. ‘He told me not to help… Cambions?’ Hella mumbled, her mouth dry.
Remy’s eyebrows shot up. She exchanged a look with Sian, who then looked at Hella with great sympathy. ‘Oh, Hella.’ Sian looked back to Remy. ‘She really doesn’t know anything yet, does she?’
Remy shook her head. ‘It’s been a long day. I hadn’t gotten there yet.’
‘What’s Cambions?’ Hella pressed, trying to ignore the pain in her leg. Her throat stung too. She tried to swallow the pain. ‘Families? Warlocks, and… faeries? Seriously?’
At that moment, everyone heard the tell-tale bell ring above the door, announcing that someone had entered the store, despite the closed sign. ‘I really should lock that,’ Remy muttered, moving to stand in front of Hella.
Sian did the opposite. She moved, her long dark hair concealing her face, to stand in a shadow by the double doors. After a moment, she pounced on whoever had strolled inside. There was a distinctly female shriek, then a thud as Hella suspected they tumbled into a bookcase. Suddenly, there was more light as Hella turned to see that her dad had flicked on the light switch to the main room.
The intruder was a woman, with long golden hair and, Hella was shocked to see, shimmering scales along her neck and cheek.
Hella scrambled up to the end of the couch, as far away from the stranger as possible, despite the sharp pain in her leg and throat. ‘What is going on?’ she whispered urgently to her mother, who put a hand on her shoulder.
Her mother shook her head. ‘No idea, honey.’
‘Oh, you’re fae,’ Sian said, annoyed. ‘What are you doing breaking into a witch’s shop?’
Remy sighed. ‘Oh, Meele. Sian, this is a friend of mine. I asked her to come from her Paris Family House. She’s Scire.’
Realisation dawned on Sian as she looked to Hella. ‘You’re the one. The Scire who saw Hella, the prophecy?’ she asked, her annoyance gone, all awe and intrigue now.
The woman, Meele, nodded, and then in the blink of an eye she looked like a regular human. Long pale blonde hair, and all smooth skin. ‘Yes, I am. Pleasure to meet you.’ There was a tightness in her voice that suggested it was not. Meele stepped forward to Hella, who was pressed right up to the back of the couch.
Her mother’s grip on her shoulder tightened. ‘Are you a Cambion?’ her mum asked politely.
Hella’s head whipped up so that she could look at her mother. ‘A Cambion? What is a Cambion?’ Hella asked again. Why did no one answer her questions?
Meele smiled sympathetically at everyone’s confusion. Calmly, despite her rough entrance. ‘My name is Meele of House Scire, and I am an old friend of Remy’s.’ She indicated the shop owner. ‘Hellora,’ she murmured. ‘Oh, it’s nice to finally meet you, my promised witch. I know you’re confused.’ She moved and placed herself on the end of the couch.
‘Let me break this all down for you a little bit. There are demons, like the one you saw, who are bad. There are angels, the same as who attacked you, who are worse. Then there are Cambions like myself, which have two houses; warlocks and faeries, and two sets of outcasts we don’t associate with: werewolves and vampires.’ She scrunched up her face. ‘Don’t worry about them.’ She ploughed right through.
‘My house, the faeries, are also called integros, it’s Latin, it means to protect. And the warlocks are also called devorats, that actually means to devour, but we’re allies, they’re cool. It just describes their powers. And, each of our two Houses include four Families, each with their own powers. I’m a Scire, therefore I can see shards of the past and the future. It’s a lot, but it’ll make sense over time.’
Behind her, Hella’s mother gasped. ‘It was you who called me. The day she was born. Wasn’t it?’
Meele nodded. ‘Yes, it was Grace. And it’s nice to finally meet you, and your daughter.’ Her dad made a point to come over and plant himself between his family and the newcomer. ‘I’m Hella’s father.’
‘Finn. Yes. Of course, you are. Pleasure.’ She nodded sweetly, though Hella thought there was a certain way she looked over her father, something that looked like Meele didn’t trust him.
Hella’s mind spun, trying to sort out all of the new information. ‘And then, there are witches? Like me, and Remy, and Sian?’
Meele nodded. ‘Yes. You, me, we’re all allies.’
‘And it was you who foresaw a prophecy? About me?’ Hella pressed, trying to get her facts straight. Again, Meele nodded. Hella sighed. ‘What is the prophecy?’
Meele seemed to be holding back. With a glance to Remy and Sian she looked back at Hella. ‘The prophecy,’ Meele began carefully, ‘is that you are to be the greatest, most powerful witch this world has ever seen, Hella. It’s your destiny to help me, and my kind—the integros and the devorats. You were promised to us.’
Hella thought back to the razor-edged feather at her eye. The angel’s warning to not do just that. ‘To help you do what?’
‘To help us fight off the angels who repress and torture us. Angels are misguided, Hella. I can see you’ve already met one tonight. I know he threatened you.’
Everyone else in the room looked at Hella in surprise. She hadn’t had a chance to mention that part, but she nodded in agreement.
‘To humans,’ Meele said, ‘angels are considered a mythical force of good. Of purity and benevolence. In reality, that is not the case. My kind are magical, Hella, similar to you. Angels have been taught that we are evil, that we’re no different from demons. They hunt us and take our Marks.’ She changed again to show her other self. She indicated the scales along her neck, and shining golden wings at her back that Hella hadn’t seen before. Marks. ‘They hunt us for sport, they have for a long time.’ Then she glanced at Remy. ‘One of your coven, Hunter. Her sister was taken?’
Remy nodded. ‘Tessa, yes. The girl is only eleven years old. They’ll take her wings.’
Now, Hella sat up, moving toward Meele. ‘What?’ she demanded. ‘They abduct kids?’
‘Yes,’ Meele said sadly. ‘The sister of someone in your own coven, Hella, so by extension, a sister of yours. We need your help.’
Hella nodded. ‘Yes, of course I’ll help you. I don’t like these angels either.’ She looked dow
n at her leg and almost gagged. There was blood everywhere.
‘You’ll need training,’ Meele said softly. ‘To control your powers. Remy will teach you.’ Hella nodded, her leg aching.
Meele leaned forward. ‘I’m no Sana, but let me see if I can do something to help this.’ She looked over Hella’s wounds, and Sian’s hurried bandaging.
‘Sana?’ Hella asked, as Remy conjured her a glass of water. She sipped it gratefully.
Meele nodded. ‘Yes, one of my Families. Only they can heal others. But I have a few tricks, too.’
Hella frowned. ‘That’s a magical ability I’ve read about in a lot of stories. No one ever told me that it was only faeries, though.’
‘Well, unfortunately, a lot of stories that humans write tend to get everything mixed up. And,’ Meele added with a smirk, ‘even if they got everything right; no one would believe it anyway.’
Hella remembered all the fantasy stories she had ever read. The magic, the rules. Then she thought of her initial reaction to seeing the man with yellow eyes. She could hardly believe it. And her friends hadn’t believed her either. She nodded. ‘No one would believe,’ she agreed. ‘I’m still trying to.’
Meele’s kind eyes brushed over her. Hella noticed that her irises remained a pale yellow-gold. ‘I’m glad I came. Even by portal.’
‘Portal?’ Hella asked.
‘Portalling is a bitch,’ Meele confirmed. Hella laughed, then winced at her leg.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Meele
Meele set up a work bench in the back of the Witches’ Wares store. The room seemed to be designed for potion-making. The bench was connected to three of the four walls and Remy had set up an impressive stock of herbs, flowers, oils and crystals. And a beautifully sleek set of pewter cauldrons, ranging in a myriad of sizes. There were also hundreds of clear, empty vials in a cabinet for completed potions. Meele wondered what kind of things the old witch sold to the humans, nothing dangerous, she hoped.
The faerie gathered up a marble mortar and pestle, breaking up red rose petals. She watched them turn to a mushy paste, added some oil, thyme, and finally a splash of her own magic with just a few drops of golden blood.
Remy knocked softly on her own door, then entered. ‘Find everything you need?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ The formalities were quickly dropped. ‘She’s already been attacked,’ Meele snapped. ‘How did we let this happen? He could have killed her. Then where would we be?’
Remy nodded, the wrinkles around her eyes set deep with worry. ‘I know. I should’ve given her a weapon or something, even her amulet, but she actually tried to break it. She was scared. She ran out of here, but she promised to come back to meet the coven.’
‘Sian?’ Meele nodded. ‘She seems capable.’
Remy’s mouth quirked, creating more wrinkles. ‘She is.’
Meele dispensed the salve into a bowl and found a brush and fresh bandages. ‘You have to teach her, quickly,’ Meele whispered. ‘If she can’t even defend herself, we’re all in more danger than ever. The promised witch won’t be able to help any of us if she gets killed first.’
The old witch nodded. ‘I know that. It’s been one day.’
Meele sighed. ‘It’s more pressure and responsibility than anyone should have put upon them. I know that. I always have. But the Families need her. We only have so many resources, especially in this country. We’re not powerful enough to take on the angels. Not alone. Besides, she’s strong. I’ve seen it.’
‘She’ll have to be,’ Remy added. ‘If she’s going to survive.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hella
The salve was warm on her skin as the faerie brushed it onto her wounds. Meele assured her it would help her heal in a few days. Hella was pleasantly surprised to find that it didn’t hurt to apply it. ‘That actually feels nice,’ she murmured, letting her eyes fall shut.
‘We’re not called “angelum puer” for nothing,’ Meele said quietly.
Hella opened her eyes. ‘Wait, what? I thought you were faeries.’
‘We are,’ Meele clarified. ‘The Latin for our kind is angelum puer which means angel children. We have angel blood. And warlocks are daemonium puer, can you guess what that means?’
‘Demon children,’ Hella nodded, translating, then tilted her head. ‘Or devorats, right? And you’re also known as integros, to heal or look after people.’
‘You got it. Fast learner, aren’t you?’
‘Well,’ she shrugged, ‘it just makes sense.’
‘How do you know Remy?’ Hella asked.
Meele’s steady brushing paused briefly. ‘We’ve been allies for some time.’
Hella tilted her head back so that Meele could apply some salve to her throat. It felt warm and calming. Like climbing into a perfectly bubbled bath. Meele finished with the salve.
‘Sleep with this on tonight. It’ll absorb into your skin. You’ll feel better after some rest.’
Hella thought for a moment. ‘Meele? Why did you have a prophecy about me?’ She tried to focus as her head throbbed.
‘I don’t know, Hellora. But I know that it is you. You are the promised witch, destined to do great things. But first, we must keep you safe. And get you trained up. Before you go, here.’ Meele handed her one of Remy’s prized knives. An athame, studded with purple crystals. Amethysts. ‘Use this to protect yourself, until you’re trained. Hold it and close your eyes. Let your magic flow into it.’
Hella did. This time she felt, rather than saw, her body change with her magic as she used it. She suspected her hair flared purple, too.
‘There, now, it’s enchanted,’ Meele said proudly. ‘Only you can wield it. No one else can use it. And,’ she added, ‘this is yours.’ Meele handed her the amulet. ‘It will help you. This amulet is a connection to your magic now, Hella. Wear it. At all times. If you had been wearing this tonight, you might have been able to protect yourself.’
Hella nodded, clasping it around her neck. As she stood, she tucked the athame into her belt.
‘You have a long road ahead of you, little witch. But you are not unprotected.’ Meele promised.
Hella barely remembered the walk home with her parents under the light of the moon. She purposely looked away when they passed the park, not willing to relive the attack so soon. She climbed gratefully into bed and fell asleep quickly. Her sleep was riddled with confusing, disturbing dreams of wings and blood. Of creatures with scales, threatening her with athames, and then everything was burning.
The young witch woke up in a light sheen of sweat, her hair damp. She rubbed her eyes into her palms, and wondered, for a moment, what day it was. It was hard to keep track of anything anymore. Everything had changed so fast.
Hella sat up in her bed with a strange realisation having finally sunk in. ‘I’m a witch,’ she said aloud to her bedroom. With a little more bravery than she’d had yesterday, she clicked her fingers together and a small purple spark appeared. Even though nothing else happened, she marvelled for a moment. Then tried again.
Maybe she had to want to do something specifically. She wondered if the rest of her family were up yet, her mother making breakfast with a perfect braid dangling down her back. Absently, Hella clicked her fingers again, then laughed when a fresh latte appeared in her hands, still frothing and hot.
‘Oh wow,’ she muttered. ‘Ow, hot.’ Carefully, she put the steaming mug of coffee down. ‘That’s so cool.’ She decided she needed a long, steamy shower. She looked in the mirror. There was only a fine line across her neck where she had been slashed. Her leg was still sore, but the wound was only the size of a coin now, not a gaping wound.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hella
In her room, Hella braided her wet hair then tossed on some clothes. She gathered up the amulet she’d taken off to shower, then reclasped it around her neck, feeling the now-familiar weight of it. Hella took the athame Meele had gi
ven her and tucked it into her messenger bag, slinging the bag over her shoulder.
She couldn’t very well go to school with a knife strapped to her side.
She opened her bedroom door, then paused, glancing at the small book-covered desk in the corner of her room. Then she made her decision. She closed the door, grabbed a blank notebook, sat down at her desk, and thought of what Meele had said earlier.
Unfortunately, a lot of stories that humans write tend to get everything mixed up. And, even if they got everything right; no one would believe it anyway. Hella smiled. She couldn’t tell anyone her secret, perhaps—not that she hadn’t already—but she could jot a few things down. Hella started writing down what information she had gathered thus far of the world, and how it really was. Humans—it felt weird to exclude herself from that category for a moment—had absolutely no idea that magic, warlocks, faeries and witches walked the earth. Not to mention demons and angels. Werewolves and vampires seemed to be on the list too.
Hella spent half an hour in her room, writing. One day, she thought, perhaps someone would find her notebook and think it all a very interesting story, never for a second thinking that, of course, it was all true. Seeing it all written down, she knew she couldn’t tell anyone of the magical world what she was doing. It felt like an exposé on their lives, a truth they—she—was never supposed to share, let alone document. But she had to keep it all straight in her head. She closed the notebook and tucked it carefully away in her bag then went downstairs for breakfast, her face carefully impassive.
As she flew down the stairs, her mind focused on freshly brewed coffee and warm pancakes, she rounded the corner and ploughed straight into her brother, nearly knocking him over. He gave her a dirty, scathing look. ‘Watch where you’re going,’ he snapped.
Hella stepped back to give him room. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, a wrench twisting in her stomach. ‘Elliot, wait!’ She tried to catch him, but he pulled away and slammed the door of his bedroom.
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