The Witches of Glass Castle: Uprising (The Witches of the Glass Castle Series Book 2)

by Gabriella Lepore

  Without missing a beat, Colt was at her side. He crouched before her and raised his hand against the gale, using his palm like a windbreaker to provide them with a patch of refuge.

  Mia staggered quickly to her feet. ‘No,’ she said, stepping away from his protection. ‘Don’t help me. I don’t need your help.’ She started across the garden, heading back to the castle as the wind whipped at her skin in cold torrents.

  ‘You do need my help,’ Colt called after her. ‘And you’re welcome to it. It’s yours!’

  He was following her. Mia could sense it. She spun around and glared at him. He stopped in his tracks.

  ‘No,’ she said again. ‘I don’t need it. And I don’t want it.’

  She raised her arms and felt the air shoot over her skin, through her veins and her bones and into her fingers. It shot out from her hands and rushed at Colt, jolting the hedges in its path. The gust flung Colt backwards, hard enough to send him skidding across the grass.

  Mia turned and ran.

  * * *

  Colt sighed as he rose to his feet. He watched Mia flee from him, but he didn’t follow her.

  I’ve done it again, he thought. He had a knack for upsetting people—it was part and parcel, really. This time, however, he knew he deserved it.

  He sighed again. In his hand he caught the squall, allowing it to spiral around his wrist. It moved along his arms and then down his legs, shackling him. How fitting, he thought, for one like me to be so bound.

  He bit his lip. He knew what he had to do.

  Run.

  At first he ran slowly, at nothing more than a leisurely pace. He jogged towards the forest, breaking free of the invisible iron-clad chains of the wind. The shackles slipped from his body as he descended the embankment. His pace quickened, but quite by accident.

  Now he was running full pelt, changing direction for variation. He bypassed the forest, heading up to the graveyard instead. His feet barely touched the ground as he weaved in and out between the stone slabs—the graves of witches who had walked this earth before him. Better witches. Stronger witches. Only once did he pause, subconsciously and just for a fraction of a second—and that was as he passed Lotan’s gravestone.

  Colt’s eyes read quickly. Lotan. Leader of the Hunter coven. May you rest here, my brother and friend.

  Colt felt a familiar rage bubbling inside of him. Scarcely breaking stride, he kicked the gravestone with such force that the huge grey slab exploded into dust and rubble, crumbling down onto the moss that grew over Lotan’s buried body.

  Colt winced.

  He increased his speed, causing the dainty graveyard wind chimes to rattle in his wake. But the sound was gone as quickly as it had come; he was already too far away to hear the echoes. His eyes moved in triple time, judging every obstacle in his path as he ploughed forward. Soon he was in the forest, moving between the trees like the hurricane that he was, tearing away their branches just because he could, then hurling them into the undergrowth and listening to their crash.

  He’d been doing this a lot lately—running, with no real purpose or place to go. He’d gotten used to running until his body couldn’t take it anymore, even if it took all night. He’d push himself harder, until his insides felt as though they were on fire and cried out to him in agony, begging him to rest. Only then was he numbed from the other pain.

  The pain of...what? Grief? He wondered. Loss?

  When would it end? Lotan had been dead for months. Colt was coven leader now. And there were new boys to train—Talon and Finn, two blank canvases who needed some direction. Siren had taken them under his wing—Colt simply couldn’t. He hadn’t grown up with them as he’d grown up with Lotan. He didn’t even know them; they were virtual strangers. He was alone. He still had Siren, sure. But Siren couldn’t know about the pain. Siren was stronger than afflictions of the mind—and Colt knew that he should be stronger, too. He was coven leader!

  It’ll end soon, he told himself. This pain will numb at some point. I can’t be this weak forever.

  There was no sign of healing, though. In fact, the pain only subsided when he forced the rest of his body to suffer—which wasn’t an easy thing to do. After all, he’d spent the past eighteen years training himself to become immune to physical pain, to endure the most gruesome of suffering with a sneer. It was his most admirable feature, if he did say so himself. And yet now, his enviable tolerance had bitten him like the sting of an ironic serpent. Now he wished he could feel the sweet release of pain.

  Curse my excellence, he thought bitterly. And curse my weakness, too.

  He often wondered how such an accomplished Hunter as himself could be so susceptible to human emotions. If only he’d been stronger. If only he’d been able to prevent Lotan’s death in the first place. But he had let his emotions stand in the way of his duty—his duty to protect his coven above all else. Colt knew he had been weak, and that his weakness had caused him to fail. And as a result, his brother was dead.

  He vowed to never let that happen again.

  But until he could find a cure for this inexplicable hurting, the only solution was to feel pain everywhere else.

  And so Colt kept running. Because sooner or later, he might feel pain.

  * * *

  Back inside the castle, Mia raced to her bedchamber. Tears stung her eyes, but she fought to hold them back. She had to hold them back. Blindly staggering up the staircase and into the upper hallway, she flung open the bedchamber door and collapsed onto her bed. She wished for her best friend Kizzy to miraculously appear and tell her to forget about Colt, tell her that he wasn’t worth her tears. But Kizzy wasn’t there. So, alone and hidden behind the bed curtains, Mia buried her face in her pillow and broke into uncontrollable sobs.

  Hot tears soaked her hair and her breath escaped in painful rasps. In her anguish she barely heard the sound of footsteps pad across the room.

  Dino, Mia realised. Her heart sank. She had presumed she’d been alone in the room. The last thing she wanted was for Dino to find her crying. She couldn’t bear to hear an I-told-you-so about Colt.

  ‘Uh...’ Dino cleared his throat. ‘Mia?’ He knocked on her bedpost.

  ‘Go away,’ she managed, burying her tear-streaked face deeper into the pillows.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. But there were no departing footsteps.

  Why won’t he just leave me alone? she despaired silently. ‘Go away, Dino. I don’t want to talk to you.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, hovering at her bedside. ‘You seem upset.’

  Mia rolled her eyes but didn’t respond.

  Taking that as his cue to stay, Dino gingerly opened her bed curtains and perched on the edge of Mia’s bed. He began fidgeting, smoothing out the imaginary creases on the bedding. Then, even more awkwardly, he patted Mia on the head.

  ‘Ouch,’ she grumbled, swiping his hand away.

  ‘Sorry.’ He folded his hands in his lap. ‘So...listen...I’m a Sententia, remember? So I know you’re sad.’

  You don’t need a power to figure that out, Mia thought irritably. Why isn’t your Sententia power telling you I want you to go away?

  Oblivious, Dino studied the gold embroidered material of the four-poster bed drapes and the rosebuds carved onto the oak posts. ‘Your bed’s bigger than mine,’ he noted reflectively.

  Mia wiped her eyes and peered up at him from where she lay. ‘Why are you still here? I told you to go.’

  ‘I know,’ he replied. ‘But I overruled you. I’m older, so I can do that.’

  She shoved him. ‘I don’t want company.’

  ‘Okay.’ Dino rose from the bed. ‘Suit yourself. I’m right over there if you change your mind.’

  ‘I won’t!’ Mia shouted after him as he retreated to the other side of the room.

  A few minutes passed. Mia rolled onto her back, staring up at the domed canopy above her bed. She sighed.

  Untangling herself from the sheets, she slid off her bed and stomped across the room, kicking
aside a pile of dirty T-shirts that had accumulated at Dino’s bedside. His curtains were drawn, so she knocked on his bedpost.

  ‘Who is it?’ Dino called.

  ‘Me.’

  ‘Who’s me?’

  Exasperated, Mia peeled back the curtains and peered through the gap. She scowled at Dino.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ Dino said vaguely. He was lying on his back with his hands linked behind his head. ‘What brings you to my side of the room?’

  ‘Do you think I’m stupid?’ Mia asked sharply.

  ‘I get the feeling there’s no good answer...’

  Her voice softened. ‘I mean, do you think I’ve been acting dumb lately? Because of Colt,’ she elaborated.

  ‘Oh.’ Dino sat upright and frowned. ‘No. Colt’s...okay. Ish. I guess.’

  ‘Everyone else thinks I’m blinded by him.’

  ‘Who said that?’

  ‘No one’s said it, exactly,’ Mia confessed. ‘Apart from Jonathan.’

  Dino chuckled to himself. ‘I don’t think you can put much weight on Jonathan’s opinion of Colt.’

  ‘He thinks Hunters are all the same. He thinks they’re inhuman and evil—’

  ‘So what? You already knew that. Besides, it’s in Jonathan’s interest for Colt to be out of the picture, if you know what I mean.’

  Mia furrowed her brow.

  ‘Jonathan likes you,’ Dino clarified, then pretended to gag.

  Mia pushed through the curtains and sat on the edge of Dino’s bed. ‘Johnathan’s just friendly. It doesn’t mean anything.’

  Dino waved his hand in front of her face. ‘Hello? Maybe you really are blind. Trust me, he likes you.’

  ‘Well, Colt doesn’t,’ she murmured sadly. ‘Like me, I mean. He doesn’t want to be tied to me. He said so tonight.’

  Dino’s eyebrows raised, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

  ‘Maybe everyone was right all along,’ she debated quietly. ‘Maybe the only thing that comes from falling in love with a Hunter is heartache.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s Hunters,’ Dino remarked astutely. ‘I think that’s love in general.’

  Mia thought about it for a moment. ‘I have to show you something.’ She reached into her jeans pocket and retrieved the small photograph that she’d swiped from the drawing room earlier that day. She unfolded it and handed it to Dino.

  In the dimly lit room, Dino stared down at the still frame. Mia joined his gaze. Together, they looked into the past, seeing before them their father as he once was, unspoiled and human. The fold that Mia had made fractured straight through the centre of the photo, dividing Cassandra and Tol with a frayed white line. It bore the scar that would later be left on their hearts.

  The significance of the moment silenced them both.

  ‘So this is him,’ Dino said at last.

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘It’s funny...’ Dino murmured. ‘That guy there—the real him—that’s what I always imagined him to be like. I think we would have liked him.’

  Mia laughed sadly. ‘I think we would have loved him, Dino.’ She gazed at the photograph again. ‘He looks like you.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Dino accepted with quiet recognition. ‘But he’s not me.’ He tossed the photo onto the bedspread. ‘And he’s not Colt, either.’

  ‘That guy in the picture—our mother loved him. He was good, and he turned evil. And for what? More power?’

  ‘Not everyone is like that,’ said Dino, gently.

  ‘Like what? Power-hungry? A Hunter? How can we be sure who is and who isn’t? We’re living proof that power can corrupt good people. It happens.’

  ‘Let it go,’ Dino urged her. ‘You can’t spend your life worrying about things that may or may not happen. All you can do is live. Who gives a damn about what happened in the past to some guy we didn’t even know?’

  ‘You mean our dad?’

  ‘No. I mean Tol.’

  Mia picked up the photo and trailed her index finger along the fold, slicing her nail through her parents’ joined hands.

  ‘Let it go,’ Dino tried again. ‘Forget the past. We’re not in it anymore.’ He eased the photo from her grasp and threw it aside once more.

  They fell silent.

  Mia gazed at the bedposts, admiring the smooth curves of the wood. ‘You’re right,’ she said distantly. ‘My bed is bigger than yours.’

  Dino’s eyes widened. ‘I knew it! I think we should swap.’

  Mia smiled sweetly. ‘Never going to happen.’

  All of a sudden there was a shout from somewhere outside the chamber, followed by a commotion and more voices.

  Mia and Dino frowned at one another. They clambered off the bed and hurried out of the room, tracing the voices through the dim corridor and down the staircase. There was a scuffle in the lower hallway.

  Hunters.

  At the foot of the stairs, Amos was attempting to calm the situation. His face was red and his hands were trembling.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Dino called.

  Mia’s heart began to race. Had an intruder found a way into the castle? Was this the moment they’d feared?

  ‘We caught him with the book!’ Jonathan yelled, pointing wildly to the fray of Hunters. They broke apart and a hush fell over the corridor.

  Mia’s eyes shot to Siren.

  ‘What book?’ Dino asked hoarsely.

  ‘The book with the spell to steal the Arx,’ Jonathan relayed. ‘The Tome of Black Magic. The page was marked and it was hidden in his chamber!’

  The colour drained from Mia’s face. She stared at Siren. Beside him, Colt stood unmoving. Neither of them looked back at her.

  It was Siren all along, Mia realised with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Siren was trying to kill me. Her eyes snapped up to Colt’s, willing him to step away from his friend and come to her. But Colt didn’t move.

  Amos let out a mournful breath. ‘Bind his hands,’ he muttered despondently. ‘And blindfold him or he’ll use his powers against you.’

  Siren gave a heavy sigh. With his head bowed, he stepped away from Colt. Following Amos’s orders, Demetrius advanced upon the culprit.

  Mia’s knees nearly gave way as she saw that the culprit was not Siren.

  It was Colt.

  Chapter Eight

  People In Glass Castles

  ‘No!’ Mia cried, racing down the staircase.

  ‘Mia, don’t come any closer!’ Jonathan ordered from the foot of the stairs. ‘It’s him! It’s Colt! He’s the one who’s been plotting to kill you!’

  ‘Of course it’s not me!’ Colt spat, batting Demetrius away as the burley Hunter advanced upon him with a length of thick rope.

  ‘We found the book in your chamber!’ Jonathan accused.

  Colt glanced at Mia. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words passed his lips.

  ‘Colt,’ Amos said slowly, ‘do you admit to possession of the Tome of Black Magic?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  Amos cut him off. ‘I will give you one more chance to leave quietly, or you will be removed by force.’

  Colt gawped at Amos. ‘Surely you’re not serious.’

  Again, Demetrius lunged at him. And again, Colt knocked him back.

  ‘Young Hunters,’ Amos called, signalling to Talon and Finn. ‘Assist him.’

  Colt scoffed. ‘My coven only takes orders from me,’ he chided. ‘I’m their leader, not you.’

  The two younger Hunters looked to Amos for confirmation.

  ‘Colt,’ Amos muttered wretchedly, ‘you are no longer coven leader. In light of the evidence, you are to be exiled.’

  Only Siren stood back as the other three Hunters forced Colt against the wall. Demetrius bound his hands behind his back and pulled a blindfold over his eyes.

  ‘Stop!’ Mia cried. She pushed past Jonathan and raced to Colt. ‘Please, stop!’

  Colt winced at the sound of her voice as the Hunters jostled him through the door and out into the courty
ard.

  Mia went after them. ‘Wait!’ she sobbed, reaching for Colt’s hand. ‘Don’t take him!’

  But before her fingers could thread through his, Amos intercepted her path. He swiped off his spectacles and met her eyes. ‘Steady mind, steady feet, one more breath and you shall sleep.’

  Mia inhaled a final rush of Colt’s scent, and then everything went dark.

  * * *

  ‘Wendolyn is in a feverish sleep,’ said Amos as he returned to the drawing room where Cassandra and Madeline were waiting. ‘I can’t wake her.’ He paused and gazed wistfully around the grand room. ‘I had to make the decision,’ he murmured desolately. ‘Colt was found guilty, and I had no choice but to exile him.’ He looked to the two women for approval.

  Cassandra swallowed a lump in her throat. How had things gotten so out of hand? ‘You did the right thing,’ she assured Amos. ‘Wendolyn would have done the same. You certainly shouldn’t feel guilty about it.’

  Amos took a seat in an armchair opposite them and dropped his head into his hands.

  ‘And if you hadn’t been so quick to entrance Mia when you did, who knows what would have happened,’ Cassandra appeased him. She glanced to her daughter, who was sleeping soundly on a velvet sofa, long brown hair fanned out around her.

  Amos raised his head and followed her gaze. ‘It isn’t often that I have to use my power of hypnosis anymore,’ he confided. ‘But, in this case, I think it was a necessity.’

  ‘Beast,’ Madeline spat, her blue eyes fierce. ‘Vile, lying beast. How could he do this to her? It proves my point, though, doesn’t it? You can never trust a Hunter.’

  Neither Amos nor Cassandra had a response.

  It was dark beyond the drawing room windows, and the castle was quiet save the crackle of candles. The Hunters were gone and the young Arcana had retreated to bed—all but Mia, anyway.

  ‘We’ll need to perform Colt’s exile ritual without Wendolyn,’ Cassandra mused quietly.

  Madeline pursed her lips. ‘But we’ll need four capable witches to do it. Us three and...who else is capable of such a spell?’

  Amos folded his hands in his lap. ‘Perhaps Isaac. According to Wendolyn, he’s experienced in ritual work. I imagine he’d be capable of the exile spell.’