The Claiming

by Glenn Williams

  The force of it knocked both Deborah and Kathryn backwards.

  I stared at the black scorch mark left on the ground by the lightening, momentarily stunned. The Queen of Elfame hadn't undersold her offer of power.

  Deborah and Kathryn pushed themselves back up. They both stared at me as though I had bitten them. No one in the clearing made a sound. I could sense Gwydion and Rory staring at me as well. They were both as shocked as the rest of the witches.

  There was something even more dangerous than before in the way that Deborah looked at me.

  “Like I said,” I spoke evenly, but my voice sounded suddenly unfamiliar to my own ears, a stranger's voice. “You're going to let us go.”

  A long silence passed. No one moved.

  Then, still staring me down, Deborah finally nodded. She called out, “Let them go.”

  No one argued with her. I felt many pairs of eyes on me. Still, no one made a sound.

  They let us pass. For now. I had no doubt that I had just made an enemy out of Deborah. Possibly the entire coven.

  We made it to the car, but it wasn’t until we were on the highway and driving back to Hollow Hill, that I finally relaxed. Rory and Gwydion were holding hands in the front seat. I sat in the back. I noticed Rory glancing at me every few seconds in the rear-view mirror.

  I gave him a tired smile, but it felt flat on my face. I would tell them both everything later. There would be time for that. There would be time for everything. But for now, I was exhausted and the sensation of power was fading. It left me feeling hollow and sick to my stomach.

  I didn't want to admit that I had enjoyed it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Gwydion and Rory dropped me off at home. My apartment was exactly the same as it had been when I had left it yesterday morning. For some reason, that struck me as being exceptionally strange. Everything else had changed. How could my space not have changed as well?

  But nothing had rearranged itself to match the new condition of my soul. I stared at my living room for a long moment, feeling as though I was standing in a stranger’s home. A tattered green couch I’d had since college was pushed up against the large bay window beside the front door, hugged on either side by sheer white curtains. An aging and largely unused television sat on a boxy TV stand the color of dark chocolate. On the floor, from one end of the room to the other, there was a massive rug with vibrantly colored spirals that had always reminded me faintly of a fractal. Bookcases consumed the majority of one wall, stuffed with hundreds of books I’d purchased new and second-hand.

  The space was cheerfully decorated with the mismatched furniture I’d found at thrift stores over the years. My heart broke a little bit at the sight of it. I recognized it all, but none of it felt familiar. I used to be thrift-store chic. I didn’t know if that was still true or not. Nothing I knew about myself felt true anymore at all.

  After a cursory glance at my living room, I stumbled into my bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. I didn't even pull back the covers. My phone was in my hand. I didn't remember putting it there.

  I turned it on. Miraculously, there was still a charge on the battery. I squinted at my notifications, trying to see past the cracked glass on the screen.

  I had new voicemails. I clicked the first one and hit play.

  “Hi Kendra,” Melanie's voice came through the speaker, warm and familiar, “I'm just calling to make sure that you made it home okay. Give me a call back.”

  The next voicemail was also from Melanie.

  “Kendra, I'm getting worried about you. I didn't mean to freak you out. Call me back.”

  For a split second, I wanted more than anything else to call Melanie. I wanted to tell her everything. She might even believe me. She was used to a little bit of weirdness. But what I had been through would have been too crazy, even for her.

  I was a witch now. What did that mean? How would that change things for me?

  I’m a witch. The thought was strange and unnatural in my mind. It didn't belong there.

  I deleted both voicemails.

  I curled into a fetal position on my bed. I was finally safe, but I didn't feel that way. Not anymore and maybe never again.

  I felt something break loose inside of my chest. Tears poured, scalding and wet, down my cheeks. According to folklore, witches can’t cry. I guess the legends got that part wrong.

  Everything that had happened finally caught up with me. Everything I had gone through felt sharp and hot and immediate in my mind. But none of that was compared to the fact that I didn't feel like myself, not anymore. I felt wrong and strange, changed in a subtle but irrevocable way. I knew that there was no going back to the person I had been before all of this.

  “Don't cry, Ken.”

  I looked up, my eyes swimming. It took me a moment to make sense of what I was seeing.

  “Gwydion?” I asked, feeling confused. “What are you doing here?”

  My brother was standing in the doorway, a lopsided smile on his face. His eyes were sad.

  “I don't have long,” Gwydion said quickly. His voice sounded suddenly faraway. “But you have to know.”

  He hesitated, losing his smile. His eyes searched my face.

  I realized right then that I could see the outline of the door through his body. He wasn't really here. Not anymore.

  “Kendra,” My brother said, “You’re in danger — all of you.Whoever or whatever is in my body right now, it isn't me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  FROM THE AUTHOR

  Thanks so much for taking the time to read The Claiming, the debut novel in the Hollow Hill Witches series. If you enjoyed this book, I hope you'll consider recommending it to someone or leaving a quick review on Amazon. Reviews really do help authors reach other readers. And of course, they help your fellow readers discover amazing books.

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