The Witches of Merribay (The Seaforth Chronicles Book 1)

by B. J. Smash

  “And there you have it—the story of Izadora, Izaill, Magella, and Montague.” He rolled five 6’s. “Yahtzee!”

  His story amazed me. Could it be real? My guess was: yes. After what I’d been through today, I didn’t doubt a word he said. But I remained silent until GG Edmund spoke again. “They aren't ones to be toyed with. In fact, it's best to steer clear of them.”

  “It might be too late for that,” I confided to him.

  He ran his hand through his white hair, causing it to stand up everywhere. “I feared as much. And I heard about the houseboat incident from your grandmother. Tell me what you were doing on the boat.”

  “It's a long story,” I said.

  “I have nothing but time. Go on, tell me everything.”

  I told him everything, from Ian sending me into the woods to Izadora sending me to the houseboat for a rolling pin.

  “What did she say she needed the rolling pin for?” he asked.

  “To break a curse.”

  “Did she say anything about the curse that was to be broken?”

  “I found out that it's a curse done by Izaill, to Izadora. She needs to break it to help my father return.”

  “I see.” He began to stroke one of his eyebrows, and he stared out the window, into the night. I thought he’d say something about the possibility of my father returning, but he didn’t say a word.

  Shortly after our talk, Gran walked in. She didn't look too happy. I got up to leave so they could talk alone. “Sit.” Gran scolded me.

  “Ivy is already in too deep,” GG Edmund said.

  “I have heard. She mustn’t go into the woods again. How could you break my rule?”

  “I…well, I…,” I began to say. I didn't want to blame Ian. I never had to go into the woods; it was my choice.

  But GG Edmund argued, “She must go back into the woods. What's done is done. The girl cannot stop what she has started.” He appeared solemn and final, leaning back in his chair.

  “No doubt. If she did, there could be repercussions from Izadora.” Gran contemplated his decision.

  “You know Izadora too?” I asked Gran.

  “We all know of Izadora. We don't speak of her or any of them, unless they make it impossible. You have now gotten yourself involved, and you must finish what you've started.”

  “I did it for Father. She can get him back,” I said.

  “How do you know that she isn't the one that stole him in the first place?” Gran raised her voice.

  “Simmer down, Eilish,” GG Edmund said to my grandmother. He hardly ever used her first name. “Everything happens for a reason. She will continue to help Izadora until she is released. Then we will have to move her away from this house. She can go live with your best friend in Scotland. Far away from here.”

  “Move? I don't want to move,” I whined.

  “You may have to,” he said.

  Gran started to sniffle. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw her wipe a tear. It surprised me, as I had never seen her cry, and she was not of the affectionate sort.

  “What about Father? When he returns, I will live with him again,” I said.

  Both of them remained silent, with grave looks upon their faces.

  “What?” I asked.

  “If he returns, you will live with him. But, Ivy”—he ran his hand through his hair once again—“don't count on his return.”

  I felt as though someone had grabbed my heart and gave it a good squeeze. “He will return. She said so…Izadora said so!” I yelled out.

  He looked at Gran and then me. “You can never count on them. You just never know…” GG Edmund stopped midsentence.

  Gran, who continued to sniffle, was now wiping her eyes with a hanky. “We tried to keep you from them. I've got to go. That infuriating Ian!” She left the room.

  “Ian must have had good reason to believe Izadora could help you. But, Ivy…you must do whatever it is that Izadora wants of you. Then, and only then…will she release you.”

  He was talking like I was a piece of Izadora’s property. I hardly thought so…but then again…she was the only one who could help me.

  “I will. And she will get Father back. May I be excused now?”

  “Yes,” he said, “But, Ivy…when you are in that forest, make sure you are with the boy, Drumm.”

  I hadn't mentioned Drumm. “What do you know about him?”

  “You'll remember. Good night, Ivy.” He laid his head back in the plump chair and closed his eyes.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I lay in bed with my clothes on, turned the lamp off, and stared up at the ceiling. The room was lit up by moonlight; it must be almost full, as it was the only source of any light. Normally without any lights on, it was pitch black.

  Earlier, I had walked into Zinnia's room to find her sleeping on her bed. Gran intercepted me and told me to leave her be for the night. Apparently, Zinnia had told Gran that she had a “stomach ache”. My plan was to lie here in bed and wait for Gran to fall asleep. Then I would wake Zinnia up and begin the questioning. Why had she tossed the rolling pin in the water? Why was she hanging around Magella?

  Lying in bed, I reached for my useless cell phone to set the alarm for an hour from now. But I decided against it. I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anyway.

  And then…I was dreaming.

  ***

  At first my sister appeared to be on a balcony in some grand building that I don't think could ever really exist, looking over a grand ballroom luxuriously decorated in shades of burgundy and gold. The room overflowed with elegantly dancing people; women were dressed in extravagant gowns, and the men in classy frock-coats and breeches.

  She was up so high up on the balcony that it appeared to be, upon guessing, maybe five stories high, overlooking the ballroom floor. Half of the room was enclosed by a glass dome that, when peering up through it, one could see the stars and full moon. The other half of the ceiling, the side she was on, was covered in paintings, like something done by Michelangelo. Painted in rich pastels, I could not make out what these paintings were, as they were blurred out. However, for some reason, I sensed that if I could see them properly, they would be maddeningly beautiful.

  A brilliant chandelier the size of a car hung midair, lighting up the entire ballroom with sparkling light. Sconces hung along the walls, holding candles that emitted blue and gold flames that danced in rhythm to the music. And the music… was like nothing I'd ever heard.

  Unexpectedly, she was then down on the ballroom floor at a buffet table. Upon this table were the most beautifully displayed desserts, with everything from a fifteen-foot-tall chocolate fountain, to little tarts sitting on multi-tiered silver trays. These tarts, mind you, would make even Aunt Cora and Aunt Clover jealous.

  I couldn't see any of the people’s faces; they were all a blur. She was standing next to a man who was eating cake, and something resembling a small dragon (about the size of a puppy) would fly the biggest strawberries I'd ever seen into the chocolate fountain, and then it would bring them back to Zinnia, setting them on a golden plate.

  She was laughing and flirting with this man with the blurred-out face. Then the dream faded out and darkened until she was in a forest—a gloomy forest, full of fog and damp, dark trees. She held onto the hem of her beautiful red gown so she could run, and she was running…running from something. I couldn't see exactly what, but it was after her, and there was no escape. Reaching the edge of the forest, she tried to run out, but at every turn she would run into a thick, foggy substance that couldn't be penetrated; she reminded me of a fly in a spider’s web. It was impossible to move through. Impenetrable. And she cried and cried out something, but I couldn't hear the words! It was as if she were enclosed in a soundproof room, and I could see her mouth moving but could hear no words.

  Off in the distance, I heard a wolf bay…

  ***

  I was abruptly awakened by little tinkling bell sounds. I bolted upright, gasping for air and holding
onto my throat. It had grown rather cold in my room for a summer night, but still, sweat poured from my face. Forcing myself back to reality, I realized the bell sounds were coming from my cell phone. The problem with that was my cell phone didn't work at Gran's house. It wouldn't receive any signals, and the only thing I ever used it for was an alarm clock.

  I grabbed for it on my bed stand, knocking it off to the floor…but I never heard it land. As I leaned over the bed to pick it up, my breath caught in my throat. Lying on the floor was something I never wanted to see. There lay a young woman with curly brown hair, wild eyes, and a crazy smile looking back at me.

  Ian's sister.

  I felt the air grow colder, raising the hairs on my arms.

  She held onto the phone and mouthed something to me, something like “silly,” and then abruptly…she was gone. The phone had stopped ringing, and I lay back on my bed, not daring to move a muscle. Fear clenched my very heart and made my stomach tighten.

  I made myself let the air that I'd sucked in, back out, and then I breathed as quietly as possible. Silence filled the room, and the only thing I could see was the shadow of a spindly tree limb on my wall.

  My heart began to beat normally, and I closed my eyes just in time for the phone to ring again. “Oh God,” I said aloud. Again, I slowly leaned over my bed, with the covers pulled up to my chin. There lay my cell phone by itself. All I could picture was putting my hand down there to get the phone, just to have Ian's sister grab it and haul me under the bed.

  Shivering, I finally forced myself to snatch up the phone before it woke Gran, and I quickly lay back on the bed. Answering, I said, “Hello.”

  “Ivy?” said a familiar voice, but I couldn't place it.

  “Yes?” I said. “Who is this?”

  “It's Ian. You just called me.”

  “Ian? I didn't call you. You called me,” I said.

  “No, you called me and said, ‘Silvie,’” Ian said.

  “Silvie?” I asked.

  “Well, apparently you are quite the prankster. Silvie is my sister's name. Oh by the way, did you get the rolling pin?”

  “Yes and no.” I paused. “Ian…I think I was dreaming. I just saw Sylvie under my bed.” I expected him to laugh.

  After a long pause, and what seemed like an eternity, he sighed and said, “Did you, now?”

  “How is that possible?” I asked.

  “Ivy. There is something you should know…my sister is dead.”

  My whole body froze with terror.

  “What? The one that sleeps under the willow tree? I just saw her the other day, in the garden.”

  “My sister. Is. Dead. Hence, she sleeps under the willow tree. She is the ward that I was trying to tell you about. She guards the McCallister gate. She's dead. She's a ghost.”

  “Wh—what are you talking about?”

  “She's the ward. Ahh, never mind. You're in shock. Just get over here. She must be trying to warn you about something.”

  “Okay,” was all I could manage to say.

  “I’ve sent my driver to come for you. Meet him at the end of your driveway.”

  “But Gran—”

  He interrupted me. “Knows that we have a few problems that need fixing. I got you into this mess, and I'll be the one to get you out.” He hung up the phone.

  I changed my clothes and put my hair up into a ponytail, all the while glancing around my room. I did not want to see Silvie again. Panic ran through my whole body, causing me to feel faint. I felt like I was in crazy world. What had happened to normalcy? I had nothing normal left in my life. All of these things were happening to me, and all I could say was, “Why me?”

  I had always thought myself to be pretty brave and daring. I loved a good horror movie, but I didn't appreciate living in one. I had always liked going to haunted houses with my friends on Halloween. I liked to read a good scary book now and then, but my life had turned into a horror story. I just wanted a pizza at a beach somewhere in the sun, far away from the creepy, mind-numbing mess my life had become.

  Before I left, I checked on my sister. The dream I had just had seemed so real. Walking to her bed, I gave her a good push to wake her up, but my hand sunk into something. “Zinnia?” I whacked her again, hitting something soft. They were pillows. “Ah, the ol’ decoy trick,” I said aloud.

  Unfortunately, my sister had probably left a longgg time ago.

  Slipping out of my house with a flashlight, I walked to the end of the drive where Ian's driver awaited me. I hopped inside the big black car that must have cost a zillion dollars, and the driver brought me up to the McCallister house.

  Ian awaited me at the door. “Okay, so you say you saw my sister?”

  “I believe so.”

  “We've no time to waste. Let's go.”

  I had no clue what was going on, but in no time, we were at the back gate of the garden. The only light was the moon and a single lit lamppost hidden behind globs of plants that I hadn't noticed before. There she stood, in the same yellow dress that I had seen her in on two prior occasions. The wind ruffled her hair just as it ruffled mine. If she were a ghost, how was that possible?

  “Sister,” Silvie mouthed silently.

  “Her sister is in the woods now?” Ian asked.

  Silvie nodded her head.

  “Doesn't she talk? Your ghost sister…doesn't she talk?” I asked.

  “No. She never talks. Only laughs.” He waved his hand at her like it was nothing.

  Silvie giggled.

  “How does she know Zinnia is in trouble?” I asked.

  “She roams the garden, but she has a friend that roams the woods—a certain friend.” The way Ian said friend sounded as though he didn't approve.

  “How will I find Zinnia?” I asked the ghost Silvie.

  She pointed at me.

  “She is saying your sister will find you,” Ian said.

  “I must go then,” I said.

  “Be careful. You must be very careful,” Ian called after me.

  Not wasting another moment, I took off running until I came upon the yew tree. Fireflies were everywhere tonight, dotting the woods with yellow flickering lights. I recalled how my sister and I used to catch them in glass jars, poking holes in the lid for air.

  I walked past the big tree and all of its décor, and could faintly hear a soft melody. I followed the music, but I couldn't figure out which way it came from. One minute I thought it was to the left of me; the next minute it was to the right of me. After a while I could tell that it was straight ahead, but I had lost all sense of direction with the many turns I had taken.

  Finally, ahead I saw a white wooden bridge, and I went for it. Stepping upon the bridge, it creaked loudly, as if warning me to turn back now, while I still had the chance. I didn't heed its warning, and I stepped a little harder just to spite it. As I was about to exit from the bridge, I felt a wave of confusion sweep over me, and then felt as if I were walking through a marshmallow. The air seemed thick, and I gasped. Suddenly I was off the bridge, and everything was back to normal. Or as normal as things could be, under the circumstances.

  What the heck was that all about? As I caught my breath, it was then that I noticed there were noises off in the distance. They were not forest noises but people noises and party noises, and laughter and music, with people clapping hands. Fiddles were being played, and whoever played them surely knew what they were doing.

  A thick cloud stood between me and the party. Walking on, it seemed as though it took me several minutes to get through the clingy fog—although I could have sworn I only walked but a dozen feet.

  After a few moments, seconds, or minutes, I finally stepped through the fog. To my left and right, the forest was dark, imposing, and threatening, but dead straight ahead, it appeared illuminated, and shined so brightly that it could have almost been daylight. I looked behind me, only to see the fog still lurking there.

  Something in the air smelled of spice. It was a woodsy, sweet smell, like patch
ouli, but even better. I followed my nose and the light, and the music kept getting louder. An uproar of laughter sounded throughout the woods, making me feel lighter on my feet. I could hear someone talking now, as I glided closer. I eagerly closed in on the light, and hid behind a mighty oak tree. My back to the tree, I took in a deep breath of the lingering patchouli smell. Getting up my nerve, I crouched down low and peered around the oak.

  I can tell you right now that nothing I had ever experienced or had seen before could have prepared me for this moment. I felt like I was suspended in time and space, gazing upon something that man was not supposed to witness.

  At this point and time, my life changed forever. I will try and explain to the best of my ability what was taking place, although the words to describe it elude me.

  Down below in a little valley—lit by some sort of illuminating bonfire and what resembled thousands of white fairy tree lights hanging in trees and nestled into groups of many colored orchids—a group of beings danced to the most glorious melody that I had ever heard. My soul soared and awakened in me feelings I'd never knew existed. It was a fast song, and yet at the same time, it was a slow song. Fiddle players, backed up by some sort of bagpipers, encompassed the circle of beings. I would see the musicians, and then I wouldn't, and then I'd see them again in a different location. It was maddening but mystifying, and it seemed as though gratification of the senses was close but not close enough. I could hear, but I only wanted to hear the next note, and the next. More and more!

  The people—or beings, rather—were superlative beings, extraordinarily beautiful. I had never seen anyone more perfect in my entire life. Humans just didn't have it in them to be this perfect. I even felt a lone tear escape my eye.

  The women had long, shiny, gorgeous locks of hair; some had their hair bound up with jewels. Some of the men had long hair, but was tied back into a ponytail. And the shapes of their features and bone structure were indescribable.