Witchcraft

by Katie M John

  She made her way; eventually, picking up the sound of some unfamiliar American band, which being an unlikely music choice for Lady Asquithe, told her she was heading in the right direction for Jeremiah. At last, she reached his room. The music was loud enough to conceal her approach, giving her a chance to secretly observe him; he was sat at his desk, one leg up on his chair, his elbow resting on his knee. He was concentrating on his computer screen intensely. Dressed in grey sports and a white t-shirt, he looked unusually casual, almost as if he had changed for bed. The thought made her blush and she had to admit to the mocking internal that maybe, Jeremiah was just a little bit handsome, after all. The only light on in his room was the desk lamp and it threw his face into a warm golden light, sharpening his features. Okay, I admit it, he’s a lot handsome! A smile danced across her lips. She extended her hand and rapped lightly on the door. Her knock was lost on the heavy wood of the door and she was forced to give out an awkward cough to try and gain his attention.

  He jumped and turned towards her, cracking a warm smile at his own foolishness, and at the sight of Fox leaning against his door. She looked tired. The thought of it made him feel strangely nurturing. She’d freed her hair from the tight bun she’d worn earlier and now, her hair fell slightly wildly around her shoulders; the effect was startling, causing her usually defiant face to look delicate, almost doll-like. Desire unfurled in his stomach and he was surprised to feel the force of the effect she had on him.

  “Hello!” he said, his voice cracking.

  “Hello!” she whispered back. “Can I come in?”

  Jeremiah smiled and waved his hand beckoning her in. “Of course, take a seat,” he said pointing to the large four-poster bed.

  Fox couldn’t restrain her curiosity and allowed her eyes free roam around Jeremiah’s room. It was clear he was a visitor. The antique striped paper and coordinated bedding were hardly Jeremiah’s style, however, he’d managed to carve out a space in the corner of the room to put his desk. Above which, he had tacked a whole load of family photos, post cards and other curious items she couldn’t quite read.

  He closed down his e-mail page and swivelled around in his chair to face her.

  “I’ve uploaded the photos from The Rookeries, but I’ve not had a chance to look at them properly yet; I thought we could do that together. I think they’re going to be awesome.”

  “Cool,” Fox replied, moving awkwardly off the bed and over to the desk. Jeremiah turned back to the desk and pulled up the folder. Fox’s eyes roamed over the back of Jeremiah’s neck and over his muscular shoulders. He smelt good. A mixture of light cologne and sweat. In her mind, the image erupted of her leaning forward and kissing him; the warmth of his skin under her lips, the faint taste of salt on her tongue. She gasped with surprise at the intensity of the image and the sensation of goosebumps running over her skin.

  He turned to look at her, an eyebrow cocked in concern, “You okay?”

  Fox nodded and let out a funny little noise, not trusting words to come out steady enough. He didn’t look convinced and Fox feared he could see her thoughts. He waited for her to explain but she wasn’t sure herself what had just happened. In the end, he returned to the screen and the first image of The Rookeries.

  Fox leaned in, fascinated by the play of shadows and the spookiness of the derelict hospital. It looked even more haunted when captured through the lens of a camera. She felt the warmth of Jeremiah’s body on her cheek, but even this distraction wasn’t enough to pull her away from the beautiful and eerie images in front of her.

  The closeness of Fox’s face to Jeremiah’s made his heart skip at a playful pace, and his skin warmed under the surge of blood to his cheeks. He felt faintly dizzy at her presence. She made him feel different to he’d ever felt before. He was glad she was so transfixed because he knew he was blushing and he didn’t want her to know the strange power she held over him. Her hair had fallen over her shoulder creating a veil between them and he could smell the scent of her shampoo, herbal and rich. He let his eyes slide to the side to look on her. She swept her hair back over her shoulder, exposing her face, removing the barrier. The automatic slideshow on the computer screen shunted the picture on and he glanced at it before returning his eyes to Fox.

  She turned, sensing him watching her, but rather than turning away, he continued to look directly at her. Their faces were less than a handspan away and Fox wondered if Jeremiah could see her tremble. The slightest movement forward by either of them would cause their lips to connect. The space between them felt both small and vast all at the same time. She felt her breath deepen. She’d never kissed a boy before, and the thought it could be so easy was almost as terrifying as it was thrilling. She watched the muscle of Jeremiah’s eye twitch and saw how his lips parted slightly, but she still wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss her or not – and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. She’d been taken by surprise by the emerging events of the evening and she hadn’t had time to consider what might happen if they kissed; would she somehow be signing some unwritten contract between them, would she…? The air shifted slightly and she felt his breath fall on her skin. Through instinct, her eyelids began to drop as she anticipated their lips meeting. She braced herself for the warmth and rush of sensation but nothing came.

  “Holy shit!”

  Disorientated by Jeremiah’s cry, her eyes snapped open to see him sat stiffly forward in his chair staring at the screen with a hand clamped over his mouth.

  “Do you see it? Tell me you see it!” he asked desperately.

  Fox saw it but she didn’t believe it. Stood in the middle of the shot, in the photograph of the room with the large mirror, was a woman, and she had been looking right into the eye of the camera.

  “That’s not possible! It’s Paulina!” Jeremiah whispered.

  “Paulina?” Fox repeated confused.

  “Yes, Paulina. Paulina who lives here with us.”

  Unable to bear looking at the image any longer, Jeremiah pushed back his chair and stood. Running his hand through his hair, he paced up and down the room, turning intermittently to look back at the screen as if testing his own sense of reality.

  Fox took his seat and reached out a hand towards the screen, touching the image of the woman trapped inside the picture. Her hair was loose and wild, and her arms open wide in offer of an embrace. Her lipstick had smudged and her cheeks were stained with mascara-tears. She had once been beautiful, but madness had turned her ugly and sinister.

  “But there was nobody else there, Jay!” Fox said with the lilt of hysteria in her voice.

  Jeremiah stood by the window and looked out across the shadowy grounds of Coldstone House. Thoughts travelled towards him like bullets intent on shattering his sanity; memories of Paulina, naked in the bathroom, then her dancing in the rain, the sound of screaming in the kitchen, and Paulina’s impossible disappearance on the striking of the clock-chimes. He returned to the computer screen to check that he hadn’t been hallucinating. Leaning over Fox, he placed his hand on her shoulder to steady himself, but whereas the slightest touch from him a couple of minutes ago would have set her nerves alight, now she didn’t feel a thing because her thoughts had turned Paulina, and she was lost in the past; living the days and sorrows of Paulina’s life in one streaming narrative – and Fox thought her heart might break; just as the fragile skull of the baby boy had broken when Paulina had cast him from one of the attic windows of Coldstone House before leaping to her own death.

  13

  Fox had barely slept. The couple of hours dreamtime she’d managed, caused her to surface exhausted and with her thoughts frayed. She’d arrived home from Coldstone House in the early hours of the morning. Her mother had been sat at the kitchen table waiting for her. The look of worry on her face had told Fox all she needed to know – her mother had seen something coming and feared it had already happened. Death was stalking the Meadowsweets; Fox knew it. When a Witch saw a ghost it was a terrible omen, and despite Jeremi
ah’s reassurances it must have been some form of trickery done by Paulina whilst he was down at dinner, Fox knew on this night, they had both looked Death straight in the eyes.

  Fox hadn’t told him about the vision she’d had about Paulina and the baby boy. She wasn’t sure he could cope with any more trauma in one day. Then on top of it all, before everything had gone bat-shit-crazy (well even more bat-shit-crazy than children’s toys moving around all by themselves) there had been a moment between her and Jeremiah when something had passed between them and shifted the sands beneath their feet. The way he had looked at her had disarmed her completely; she had never felt so beautiful. She knew he had been about to kiss her; a thought she might have dismissed as ridiculous only a day ago, but now there was no denying it. Now, she had to formulate a battle plan, because love was a game and she knew if she wasn’t careful, she could easily end up losing.

  Groggily, she made her way to her drawers and pulled out a navy jumper and then recovered her skinnies from the floor. The college bus would be pulling up in less than twenty minutes. Thank goodness it’s Friday! she thought as she combed her hair with her fingers and pulled it up into a messy knot. Her mobile beeped with an incoming message from Will. It informed her he wouldn’t be at college as he’d had to go and see his grandfather, who’d been taken ill. She let out a heavy sigh, knowing how precious Will’s grandfather was to him. With Will’s absence, it left her little distraction from the whole Jeremiah situation, nor much help with the ongoing Martha Paisley situation. She thought back to a month ago when everything had been quiet and ordered; now it was like her life had been turned into a storm-circus; death, ghosts, ancient surfacing rivalries and… boys! She shrugged her shoulders in defeat and gave herself over to fate. She heard Swan head towards the kitchen and Fox followed, meeting her at the kitchen table where she already had a cup of chamomile tea on the go.

  “Morning!” she said.

  “Have you seen my English folder anywhere?” Fox asked.

  “Nope. Where did you leave it?”

  “Yeah, thanks, if I knew that…” Fox offered a tight sarcastic smile.

  “What time did you get back from work last night?”

  “What’s it to do with you?”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  Fox flashed her a look of curiosity.

  “Yes,” she continued. “We have some things to talk about, don’t you think?”

  Fox shifted on her feet, still scanning the room with the pretense of looking for her folder. “I guess. How about I meet you fourth period in the library?”

  “I know what you’re doing,” Swan said.

  “What?”

  “You’re trying to walk away from this whole Ravenheart thing.”

  Fox let out a snort of laughter. “Really, do you think? My thinking is, it’s all a little bit too late for that!”

  “You seem…” Swan paused, dramatically searching for a word, “unfocused!” She punctuated her analysis with an accusing eye.

  Fox glared back at her and knew her over defensive response had just confirmed Swan’s suspicions. So what? What if she thinks there is something going on between you and Jeremiah? Because there so is! interjected the internal.

  Fox twisted her mouth in frustration and checked the room to be sure they were alone.

  “The thing with the Ravenheart sisters is under control,” she said as firmly as she could. “We have some time; nothing is going to happen until the waxing of the new moon, which isn’t for another two weeks.”

  Swan sipped her tea, looking over the edge of the cup and humouring her with the impression she was accepting what she was saying. Fox continued, but she couldn’t keep the tone of conviction in her voice,

  “It’s best to take a step back and observe for a few days. They know we’re on to them and it’s going to make them volatile. Thalia was in class yesterday, so I know they’re laying low. It’s a good plan. I suggest we do the same.”

  “Do you?” Swan asked. “What if they are sending Thalia out to make it look as if everything is normal whilst in the meantime, her two ugly sisters have some poor innocent girl locked up in that barn? What if they have already taken her eyes from her? Or carved out the Devil’s sign into her flesh?”

  Fox shook her head. Her sister had a way of really hitting a conscience where it hurt. “I’d have seen it, wouldn’t I?” she said with a voice now totally devoid of her earlier confidence.

  “So you have your visions under control now, do you?”

  Fox winced. “Why are you being like this, Swan? What is your problem?”

  Swan stood and drained her teacup before taking it to the sink. “My problem is, Fox Meadowsweet, that we are about to possibly go into battle with a very powerful rival coven and rather than spending your time honing your gifts and strengthening your powers, you’re busy falling in love with Jeremiah Chase!”

  “Love! Jeremiah Chase! Are you mad?”

  “No,” Swan replied picking up her bag and passing by her on transit to the front door. “But I think maybe you are.”

  As if on cue, the school bus rounded the corner and pulled up outside the cottage. Jeremiah’s face was framed in the back window. He had his earphones on and his eyes closed. Clearly he hadn’t got much sleep after Fox had left.

  “Why doesn’t he ride his car?” Swan asked, pointedly looking at Jeremiah asleep, “rather than roughing it with the locals.”

  Fox looked at her sister with surprise. It was unlike Swan to take a dislike to someone, and this morning, she just didn’t seem to want to let Jeremiah off. Maybe she’s jealous! the internal offered. Fox considered the thought for a moment. It didn’t seem likely; Jeremiah was hardly Swan’s type, although it would explain her constant sniping at him. Jeremiah opened his eyes and seeing Fox, flashed her a smile and a wave of the hand, at which Swan turned and stared at her sister to examine her response. Fox busied herself with the business of getting onto the bus, and when she was happy that Swan couldn’t see, she flashed him a smile in return.

  The ride to college seemed impossibly long. Fox had sat next to Swan just to make a point. It was a decision she instantly regretted. The thought of Jeremiah sat at the back of the bus on his own felt like a missed opportunity, and after their near kiss, she’d really wanted to get their awkward meeting out of the way. Now he must think you’re avoiding him. She could feel him looking at her. She rummaged in her bag, pulled out her music pod and plugged herself in. She closed her eyes and tipped back her head. She felt tired. Her back was still sore and her period was coming, making her feel heavy and agitated. Despite their mother’s usual insistence on only using herbal remedies to cure their ills, Wren had given Fox a stash of aspirin, reasoning that as aspirin came from the Willow tree, it counted as herbal enough. Fox planned on taking one as soon as she was away from Swan’s prying interest.

  With her eyes closed, and the music calming her thoughts, Fox let the dreams in. They, unlike the visions, were nothing to fear. They were just a way of her brain ordering the chaos of her existence; destiny finding a voice. They were pleasant enough, full of sunlight and meadows. She felt the golden grasses under her fingers and the sun on her face. Above her head, in the cloudless blue summer skies, the swallows danced. It was a thankfully quiet day in Dreamland. The shuffle mode of her music pod flicked to another song, and pulled her momentarily half-way between dream and reality. When she slipped back into her consciousness, the wind had picked up and the clouds gathered quickly. A storm was coming. Fox tried to leave and return to the real world before she had to face whatever the storm was bringing with it. The music was heavy in her head; the deep cuts of the cello were joined by the haunting voice of a woman singing. She didn’t recognise it as something she had downloaded and there was something about it that made her feel ice-cold. The internal screamed at her to open her eyes, but no matter how hard she tried to force them open, they stubbornly refused. A vision was coming thick and fast.

  The grasses wither
ed under her touch, falling to the ground and rotting into the dark winter soils. Frost laced the furrows of the tilled earth. Above her, the sky was leaden with the threat of snow. She let out a little whimper as she turned to face the barn. Faint in the distance, she heard the internal call out to her, Run! But she couldn’t. She was rooted to the spot with the only possible movement being forward, towards the barn and the horrors it contained. As she walked, the snow fell. Then feathers. Then blood, until the sky was raining crimson droplets. Flames leapt up around the foot of the barn turning the whole landscape into a vision of Hell. From within the barn, inhuman voices cried out in victory. Despite the flames, Fox continued to walk forward into the mouth of the inferno. She was bathed in cold light that shielded her from the hungry fires. Inside the barn, the Ancient Ones danced in an out of the flames, celebrating their release from the sealed pit.

  At the center of their dance, lay a small bundle of bloodstained white cottons, which covered the unmistakable form of a small child. Fox walked on, heading towards the lifeless body. She’d never felt such sorrow and it threatened to reduce her at any minute, but somehow, within the sorrow, there was a strength that kept her moving. She avoided looking onto the faces of The Ancient Ones, because she knew if she did, she’d never reach her goal. Stooping down, she picked up the child in her arms and carried her out of the barn and into the fields beyond. The flames died down, the crimson rain ceased, replaced by pure white snows. Everything fell silent.

  Fox gasped and opened her eyes. The bus had stopped at the gates of the college and the rest of the students were fidgeting about, getting ready to leave. Out of herding instinct, she gathered her bag and moved off the bus. Her legs were weak beneath her, and despite having left the vision behind, she still hadn’t fully returned to the here and now, causing everything around her to feel insubstantial and not fully real. She took a few paces and the world shuddered like the flats of a theatre stage. She held out a hand to steady herself, but it only grasped air. She felt herself falling towards the hard ground. Arms circled her, but it was too late and her knees smacked into the concrete with a hot searing pain, which faded into black.