Mystical (The Mystical Trilogy Book 1)

by Michael Weekly

  She’s wearing tight leather shorts and a long top with a slender tail. She comes to a stop, swinging back her long legs. She jabs the guy in the chest.

  He flies into a tree, smashing into it. She activates her broomstick by clicking the button in the middle, causing it to grow longer. On each end, a dagger pokes out, just like with my mom’s stick. Swirly lines wrap their tails around its structure. I hear the broomstick finish morphing with one sharp scrape.

  As she runs toward him, she clicks the button again. One of the ends morph into a silver sword. She swipes the sword in the air, aiming for the guy in front of her.

  I remember seeing this woman in my grimoire. This is Mellissa, my great grandmother.

  I hide behind the tree I hold onto and watch them fight.

  “Mellissa, listen to me!” He shouts in fear, dodging the many attacks. He clicks on his broomstick to block the powerful blows from her sword. There’s a loud clink from the two blades colliding against one another.

  “Silence, you traitor!” She spits, bringing her weapon down against him.

  The man grabs her arm, stopping her from killing him. Mellissa jabs her knee into the guy’s gut. He grunts. She then proceeds into her next blow. She successfully cuts his cheek. He bleeds. She waves her blade in the air and stands in defense, waiting for his next move. Her eyes narrow slowly, watching him carefully.

  “I saw you talking to that mystic. How dare you persuade him into talking to Lauren?”

  “He was helping me. You must understand, Mellissa,” he pleads, looking up at her.

  “You were helping him corrupt my family! Who knows what could be transferred down our bloodline, generation to generation,” she cries. She throws her fist at him, but he grabs her wrist and tosses her on the ground, falling down on top of her. He pins her to the ground.

  “You must understand,” he says breathlessly. “He saw your pregnant daughter talking to a corrupt elf,” he explains. Mellissa stops struggling to free herself with her eyes locked onto him.

  “Lauren?”

  Lauren’s my grandmother who recently passed away, and Mellissa’s daughter.

  “Lauren would not do such a thing,” she says. “She couldn’t have,” she says, her tone full of disbelief.

  “I was talking to him to help you, Mellissa. I was finding out information,” he huffed, trying to hold her still. “You must stop the pregnancy.”

  “Let go of me, Alec!” She screams.

  “Listen to me! If you don’t stop this, her child—”

  Before he could get a word out, my great-grandmother slithers out of his grip and head butts him.

  “You’re a liar, Alec Verel,” she snaps. “The Verel’s will all be sent to Ravamere to die.”

  Looking at him with rage, I hear her the metal of her weapon scrape. She clicks the button on her broomstick.

  ***

  I feel like I need to throw up. Before I can see anything else. I force my eyes open, and fill for the sheets of my bed. The feeling is like my insides are shifting around. My heart is thudding against my chest frantically, and a massive headache is developing. I try to remember what I saw.

  Was any of it real?

  I quickly open my book to flip back to the page with Alec standing.

  “Okay, great grandma. I need some help here. Give me a sign or something,” I whisper to myself. The book flips one page over to a page titled Verel.

  “Thank you.”

  Out loud, I read a long paragraph:

  The Verel is a brotherhood of evil male witches. Stay away from them. They have chosen to work with corrupt mystics. Some mystics are good, but some have chosen to lean toward the dark, which is what makes them corrupt. They must choose a female witch to continue their line, and they will eventually corrupt and kill her off. Just like a corrupt mystic, killing innocents or corrupting them is a thrill. Working with female witches only makes them stronger as their offspring will continue the Verel’s corrupt bloodline. Separate the Verel from female witches and corrupt mystics and a future war will be prevented.

  There is a note next to the paragraph:

  The Verel cannot be trusted.

  “Eliza! What’s going on?” Jared yells at me in the background, but I’m so focused on reading what my grandmother wrote in the book for me, I don’t respond.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks when I finish reading. “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “My father…I want to talk about my father,” I reply, my voice soft and shaky.

  “Okay?” He lifts his eyes up at me and brushes his ear.

  “Well, how exactly did he die again?”

  Jared hisses from trying too hard to remember the reason. This happens all the time to him when he’s trying to remember something that deep. He gets frustrated and angry.

  “I can’t really recall the reason. Just that he was in a bad accident, and your mom was there.”

  “Yeah…” My voice fades away as my attention wanders across the living room. “That’s what she always says to me.” I look elsewhere, allowing my gaze to wander around my room.

  “Is everything all right? What happened to you?” Jared says.

  I purse my lips, looking back at him. “Was my dad a mystic?” He looks up at me.

  “Who’s the Verel?” I question impatiently.

  Jared avoids my eyes and scratches his nose.

  “How do you—? Where did—?” He stumbles over his words. “The book, the grimoire. Where is it, Eliza?” he demands.

  I don’t answer, but before I can say anything he leaps off the bed and lands on the floor. He flips the book open with his paw and turns the pages one by one. He finds the Verel message and bites the page out of the book.

  “What are you doing?” I scream.

  “You are not to look at this anymore without me,” he snaps.

  “But—”

  “Eliza, this book has evil within it! Some things are not meant to be seen unless you are finished with your transformation. You’re new to this life. You have no clue how to react to certain things. Remember what your mother said to you, since you’re going through a transformation any new information will lure mystics here.” His voice is stern. “I’m sure you’re aware that your eyesight is getting better, that your hearing, flexibility, and agility is all coming to you.” He bites the bind of the book and leaps on the window’s shelf. Then he places the book down, placing his paw on the cover and looks up at me. “These things take time to be completed, and when you are ready, then you will know what to do.”

  “Jared, please! I need you to help me,” I sniffle.

  “I am not saying a thing,” he replies. “This is for your—”

  “Jared! You have kept so much from me.”

  “I know everything you’re going through is a lot, trust me. I’m not going to have your crazy mother coming after me for my head.”

  “How would you know? You’re a cat…”

  Jared’s ears tuck back as his whiskers drop and his eyes squint in sadness. He gazes at the floor.

  “I may not remember most things,” he says, lifting his glare up at me, “but I do know the Verel turned your brother into a cat.”

  Chapter 11

  My eyes become heavy. My heart frantically pounds, thudding against my chest. I step back and snatch my broomstick off of my bed. I dart across the room, bumping into my dresser, and press the button on my broomstick. It resizes and glows as I point it at the cat in front of me.

  I don’t know what this so called cat of mine is. It’s probably a shifter mystic of some sort. He stares at me, puzzled and afraid. He steps back and bumps against the wall.

  “What are you? Are you corrupt?” I scream.

  The thing slowly walks closer to me, paw in front of paw.

  “Eliza, I’m not going to hurt you,” it whispers as its ears tuck back.

  “Stay back! I mean it!”

  I stab the air with my weapon as I yell at him. Tears slide down my cheek. I sniffle as
I watch the thing continue carefully walking closer to me. I loosen the grip I have on my broomstick and shake nervously, bracing myself to attack. I don’t know why the broomstick isn’t turning into a sword or why it doesn’t have little daggers on the ends of it.

  “Please let me explain.”

  “I said stop!” I grab items on the counter and chuck them at the thing. It dodges them with ease as it pounces around the room. It walks toward me again, but I throw a book. It smashes against him.

  Limping, the thing turns around and leaps, missing the window’s shelf. It falls on to the ground. A grunt escapes its furry mouth. It leaps again and lands on the window’s shelf, but not without bumping into the wall first. It stands, rebalancing itself.

  “So be it.”

  It glances back at me. I hold my broomstick, pointing directly at him. The thing walks out the window and vanishes.

  Jared, my cat…no, my brother...vanishes.

  ***

  It’s been a month since I’ve seen Jared. I don’t know exactly what he is. He could be some sort of mystic for all I know. He’s smart not to come back in my home. I would’ve grabbed a knife rather than use this stupid broomstick of mine. The weapon didn’t even morph into a sword like my great grandmother’s did.

  If he’s out on the loose causing havoc, I hope other witches, if there are any alive other than me, catch him. Classes at school have been awkward because I’ve distanced myself from Eric. I’ve noticed he has a girlfriend now and I really don’t care. Good luck to their potential abusive relationship. My hair finally reaches the tip of my ribs although it’s still not tamed and it’s wildly frizzy. I manage to make it work for me.

  Everything’s so quiet at home now. I’ve been secretly trying to find the place Jared hid the grimoire. I don’t want Dawn to think something’s wrong with me because of how determined I’ve been to find this book. She knows something is wrong with me because we barely speak.

  I’m on my way home, trying to beat the storm that’s approaching. I don’t believe in the whole April Showers thing, but it’s been raining for three straight days.

  I open my door to my house and walk in.

  “Oh, hey Liz!” Dawn yells from the living room.

  She’s cuddling with a new guy, I hope it’s another mystic so that I can get this damn broomstick to work properly. Maybe it will complete my transformation since no one else in this house will help me. It could possibly be a test to see if I can actually handle a mystic on my own.

  Thunder bangs above us, reverberating in my house. Taking off my shoes and placing my purse on a table nearby, I look out the window at the wet little drops forming on the gravel. They create circular puddles. I pull the hood of my grey jacket off my hair.

  “Oh right, we’re still not talking to each other.” She walks into the kitchen. “Eliza, honey, how am I supposed to help you if you’re not even going to tell me what’s wrong.” She sighs. “Is it Eric? Did something happen?”

  Today, in the hallway, Stacy Meyer was leaning against a wall. Her eyes followed me and her blonde hair was a mess over her shoulders. She slowly glanced at something else. I couldn’t help but notice another hint of yellow in her eyes. I blinked, trying to get clarification, but she disappeared within the crowd of school ants.

  I shrug off the memory from earlier.

  Maybe she’s just upset about her boyfriend’s disappearance. The gossip at school has grown intense. Everyone knows he’s gone. Even the police are involved.

  “Stacy’s been acting very strange.” I thumb my bottom lip, thinking about her.

  “Are you guys, like, besties now? That’s all you’ve been talking about for the past month is her.” I turn around to glare at Dawn. “I’m just saying. What’s it to you? So what if her boyfriend ditched her and the school.” Her voice slowly becomes lighter as she sees I’m serious.

  “It’s just odd. I think she’s a mystic,” I say.

  Dawn becomes quiet and looks behind at her guest. She pulls me to the side behind a counter, where he can’t see us, and says, “Dude, I’m so in if you need to kill her. I got the knives and everything,” she jokes, reaching in her purse. She pulls out pepper spray. “This spray is super deadly…you just don’t know girl.” She rolls her neck and waves her fingers at me.

  I hold back my laugh. “I’m not planning on killing an innocent. What if she’s not a mystic? I’ll be marked as a murderer.”

  “You kind of are already…”

  “You’re right.”

  “Are you guys whispering about Stacy Meyer?” Her boy toy says. He walks into the kitchen and opens our fridge. I have no clue who he is and why he’s eating our food. I look at Dawn in disapproval. Dawn grins, holding on to her Hot Topic bag.

  I stand beside the guy and shut the door to the fridge. “I think it’s time for you to leave buddy.”

  “But it’s raining! Come on.”

  “Nope, get gone.” I hand him his jacket and all of his stuff in my house and push him out of the door. I close the door behind him and lock it.

  “Really Liz? Must you get rid of my bait so easily?” She pouts.

  “You and these guys…”

  A fake smile flashes across her face and she cocks her neck to the left. “Uh-huh. How about you and Eric? Why have you been acting so dead lately?” She pursed her lips.

  “I haven’t been acting dead! I’ve just been minding my own business and, you know, staying out of your way.”

  “When have you ever been in my way? And where’s Jared?” She holds up her phone and scrolls through it. “Hold that thought.” She raises her index finger. “You said you weren’t dead?”

  She shows me her phone. “Let’s see if Eliza Rose has returned any of my messages or calls.” She giggles. “I’ve been patiently waiting.” She waves her hands in my face, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes. She scrolls through her call log with her index finger. “Nope, nothing!” She snaps. She places her phone on the counter.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, “but, I mean, we do live with each other, so why not just ask me in person?”

  “What are you talking about? I can’t even get near you. I never know when you’re home and it’s like I’m living with a ghost. Jared’s not even here. Like, what the hell is going on that Dawn doesn’t know about?” She placed her hands on her hips.

  “Dawn, please...I’m going through some stuff. I’m sorry, okay.” I pick up my purse and get ready to walk upstairs, avoiding eye contact.

  “Yeah, clearly. Enough to ignore your ‘best friend,’” she whines. “C’mon I mean give me a break. I’m always here for you. I didn’t run off when you told me you were a witch or when you killed that mystic in our house!” She pulls me back. “I’m always here for you. That’s what friends are for.”

  I fix my hair and look down at my buzzing phone. Eric’s name is on the screen. I breathe in and ignore the phone call. Dawn looks at me in shock that I didn’t answer his call. She snatches my phone and looks through the recent calls just to make sure it was who she thought it was.

  “Eliza!” she screams. “You call him back right now missy. What is wrong with you?”

  I snatch my phone out of her grip and wait for her reactions to change. She really gets crazy over guys. Someone needs to really cuff this girl up in a relationship. My phone rings for a second time. I look up at Dawn. The truth is, I don’t really want to talk to Eric around this time of my life. Jared is my brother and it’s something I’m trying to deal with. I don’t know why mom would lie about him being turned by the Verel.

  If it was true that he can’t remember certain things, why is it that he remembers being turned by an evil group of witches yet not know how my father—our father, died? Or is that a lie too? I’m being dramatic. He went missing and never returned, but to me, he’s dead.

  Sometimes you can’t escape the truth, and for some reason Jared slipped up on the lies he had to keep from me. Dawn already knows I’m acting weird and when it gets to this level
of weirdness, I become even more awkward around guys. I’m not as confident and flirtatious like Dawn is.

  “Jared is my brother…”

  I scratch behind my ear, nervous about how she’ll react. She is quiet for a second or two. She looks at me with a blank look, and then, when she understands what I’ve said, her mouth parts and she looks like she’s about to scream. I cover her mouth with my hand as she freaks out. I nod my head.

  “I know, I know. I’ll let it run through your system, but shut up.” I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m going to take off my hand now, okay?” I remove my hand. She looks at me, then opens her mouth to freak out.

  “Oh my God! But…but what? He’s a cat. Your brother is a cat?”

  “Some group of powerful evil witches turned him into the cat.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t even ask.”

  “Shit is really getting real…”

  “Tell me about it,” I say, walking toward the stairs to my room.

  “Is that why he’s, like, never home anymore?”

  I glance at her and to his cat bed in the living room. “I don’t know where he ran off to, but it’s something I’m trying to deal with and figure out for myself so I’m sorry if I’m coming off as dead to you.”

  “Oh, psh…It’s okay. You take all the time you need to get yourself together.” Dawn walks back into the living room and turns back on the TV.

  ***

  7:00 p.m.

  No wonder I woke up feeling groggy and like a complete bum. I must’ve napped as soon as I walked into my room.

  I walk downstairs, almost tripping because I’m still trying to wake back up. I look to my side to see if Dawn was still watching TV.

  The television is turned off so she must’ve left or something. I glide into the kitchen, where I grab my Deer Park water bottle from the fridge. I walk into the living room and try to find the grimoire Jared hid from me. I check under his bed and find nothing. I stick my fingers through the couches and over the top of our tall counters. Sneaking around in my own house is a first.