Covenkeepers

by Denise Gwen

  It’s hard to believe all that stuff happened just last night. It seems like it happened ages ago.

  “What’s wrong?” Victoria asked.

  “Oh, just a chill.”

  “You know what my grandmother says when I shiver like that?” Victoria said. “She says it’s a ghost walking across my grave.”

  “Oh, that’s eerie.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  It’s true, too. Which makes it doubly eerie. I keep forgetting that humans know a lot of these things we witches take for granted. The only difference, the humans call them superstitions.

  Maddie grabbed Victoria’s arm and led her down the steep incline. “Come on.” They struggled down the hill and reached the bottom. They stepped out of the woods and stood in the back yard for a moment, as Maddie looked around to make sure the path was clear, then, when she thought it was safe, she the way to the front porch.

  “Wait a minute,” Victoria said, looking around in confusion. “You live here?”

  “Uh, yeah. We’re just borrowing the house, you know?”

  “But this used to be the Batesville Nursing Home. It’s been abandoned for years.”

  Maddie did an inward calculation and wondered. Too late, she recalled an admonition Nana once gave her, to take care when ushering humans around a property that a wiccan family inhabits. ‘You don’t know the culture of the town you’re living in, and for all you know, everyone in town may already believe the house is haunted, or has something else wrong with it, or there may have been a murder committed within its walls. So take care you don’t move into a notorious house. You’ll make yourself—and your family—stand out, and not in a good way, either.’

  Perhaps, Maddie, realized, she should’ve invited Victoria to visit the library with her. There might be something really wrong with this house, and Victoria and all the other town residents already knew what was wrong, and it’d only make the wiccan family look that much more out of place in the village.

  Hm, how best to talk my way out of this one?

  “Oh, I know,” Maddie said, pretending everything was fine. “Tons of dust in here when we moved in, you should’ve seen it.”

  As Victoria looked around her in astonishment, Maddie pulled her wand from her pocket and, turning her back in such a way as to block Victoria’s view, muttered the door-unlocking incantation. She tucked her wand back inside her pocket and then walked forward and pretend-unlocked the door as if she had a key. It’d been necessary to engage the locking incantation; vampires could break a human lock in seconds. She released the latch and the two girls entered the kitchen.

  “Hey, everybody,” Maddie called out in a loud voice, “I’m home. And I brought a friend.”

  Unspoken, and Maddie hoped fervently her family had been listening and picked up a clue:

  I’m warning you all to stop doing witchy things! There’s a human girl here!

  After all, it wouldn’t do for Victoria to stumble into the kitchen and see Nana poring over The Witches’ Book of Spells and Incantations, while mixing up one of her noxious potions, with frogs’ legs, bats’ ears, a newt’s eye, and other assorted goodies spread out all over the kitchen table. Or walk into the living room and see Mama hovering over her crystal ball, searching through the fog to discern the future. Or watch Bettina using her magic to get dinner started, with floating saucepans and jumping beans.

  Maddie expected to see any of these things taking place in the kitchen, or worse, but what she did not expect to see when she entered the kitchen was nobody.

  The kitchen was empty.

  And then she noticed something else. She sensed an eerie quiet to the house.

  Uh, oh, we’re the only living people inside the house right now.

  And then she noticed something else, something far more troubling.

  Where are the familiars?

  No sign of Roby, perched on a windowsill nearby, his eyes closed, dreaming of mice he’d like to catch. No sign of Danube, curled up on the floor, napping in the soothing warmth of a sunbeam. No sign of Zippy darting here and there and casting snarky looks in her direction. She looked at Malamar, still cradled in Victoria’s arms, and he gazed back at her with equal concern.

  The utter aloneness of the house felt palpable, so strong a sensation she sensed it in her whole body, like a splashing fountain dashing cold water all over her, making her cold and sick, all at the same time.

  Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong, I can feel it.

  And then the short hairs at the back of her neck prickled.

  She glanced at the kitchen table, not really noticing it before, and started with surprise. Mama took cleanliness to absurd lengths. After every meal, she always neatly wiped down the table and dried it off, then floated the dishes over to the sink for a good, thorough soaking, followed by a sound scrubbing. It wasn’t fair, she declared, to make the cook clean up after everybody, so she always made a point of cleaning up the kitchen.

  But now the table, cluttered with the remains of luncheon, looked all disordered and filthy. A chair had been toppled over, and the other chairs hastily pushed back; clearly, the witches had abandoned their meal in a hurry.

  Maddie affected a nonchalance she did not feel. “Hm, that’s strange.”

  “I don’t know where they scurried off to in such a hurry,” Malamar noted. “They were all sitting here, enjoying a late lunch, when I left to fetch you home from school, not fifteen minutes ago.”

  Maddie turned to gaze at Malamar. “Really?”

  Victoria started. “Really what?”

  “Oh, nothing. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Nobody’s at home.” She was starting to feel uneasy.

  Still cradling Malamar in her arms, Victoria wandered to the sink and gazed through the kitchen window, with its overlook of the front drive leading down to the gate. “I can’t believe you live here. This is so totally awesome. I’ve always thought this place was haunted.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. A bunch of my friends came out here last Halloween and dared each other to go inside.”

  “Oh, really?” Maddie said, clearly not interested. “So they came inside the house?”

  This is so typical of my family, to take off without leaving me a note.

  “Oh yeah, for sure.” Victoria giggled nervously. “We really scared the snot out of each other. I think one boy peed his pants.”

  Maddie shrugged. “It’s not that haunted, you know.”

  “Oh, wow.” Victoria turned from the window, her eyes shining. “So the house really is haunted?”

  “A little.” Maddie looked around her with a dismissive gesture. “Aren’t all the houses in Batesville haunted? Besides, I’ve lived in houses that are much more haunted than this one.”

  “Really? Well, can we take a look around this place?” She laughed nervously. “Or will a ghost jump out of a closet at me?”

  “No,” Malamar interjected dryly, “but you might find yourself being eaten alive by poisonous spiders.”

  “You be quiet,” Maddie said.

  “Maddie, why are you telling me to be quiet?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “Well then, who are you talking to?” Victoria gazed at her, perplexed.

  Malamar gave Maddie a winsome smile. “I suggest you pretend, for the moment at least, that I’m an ordinary house cat.”

  Oh yeah, I see that happening.

  Maddie opened her mouth to say something in response, then decided against it. In the interest of preserving her friendship with Victoria—not to mention her sanity—she decided to let it slide.

  ****

  Victoria and Maddie inspected the house as Malamar trotted along behind them.

  I’m wandering around a haunted house with a human girl and a neurotic cat. A sure-fire recipe for disaster, as Nana might put it.

  Thinking of Nana made Maddie feel suddenly sad. Where did her nana run off to? Why wasn’t she here, at home? A rising dis
quietude rose up in her heart and she attempted to ease her fears by thinking like a sensible witch. After all, she was in the presence of her familiar, and what ghost would try anything when she had company with her? The last two times the house attacked her, she’d been completely alone; this time she had a human and her familiar with her.

  All the same, she felt just the tiniest bit queasy about it.

  I wish I knew where everybody’s run off to.

  ****

  “Oh, come here, you,” Victoria said, bending down to scoop Malamar up into her arms. Maddie glanced sideways at him and concealed a tiny smile as he closed his eyes and purred ecstatically. Malamar was having too much fun.

  As she eased past the false wall where Nana had sealed up the secret staircase following Maddie’s first escapade with the house, a creaking sound emanated from deep within; the sound of wood pushing up against a barrier. Was the secret staircase—the staircase that had led her to the black cloud—trying to break free of its confines? Could the house sense that Maddie was, for all intents and purposes, alone? She dove her hand into her pocket and curled her fingers around her wand. Holding onto her wand helped her to feel better, but only just.

  As the secret staircase groaned against the false wall, she shivered and hurried past, following Victoria into the great room at the opposite end of the house. A lump rose up in her throat as Maddie watched Victoria ease to the enormous dormer window overlooking the grounds.

  Mama’s favorite place to sit.

  As she surveyed the snug sitting room, with its overstuffed chairs and its sun-filled warmth, a renewed pang of apprehension stabbed Maddie’s heart. Where did her family go? She glanced around the room, taking in the measure of it, searching for clues. There, on a small side table, sat Nana’s beloved book of spells and incantations. She walked over and put her back to the book, while reaching behind her to flip the book over onto its face so Victoria couldn’t see the title. Thank goodness Mama put her crystal ball away. Maddie didn’t recall the incantation to transform a crystal ball into something ordinary looking for a human’s eyes, but she’d been prepared to tell Victoria the crystal ball was a wind-up snow dome.

  “I still can’t get over the fact you’re actually living here,” Victoria said. “I’m amazed.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Maddie said without enthusiasm. “It’s pretty awesome.”

  Malamar squirmed out of Victoria’s arms, jumped down, and paced up and down the length of the room, occasionally casting furtive looks in Maddie’s direction. Maddie kept glancing over at him, but Malamar said nothing.

  “This is so cool,” Victoria said, continuing to gaze out the dormer window. She grinned at Maddie. “I can see all the way down to the old sign at the entrance.”

  “Yeah, oh yeah. A great view.”

  “What a view!” Victoria exclaimed, turning back around to look at Maddie.

  As Victoria turned her back to the dormer window to look at Maddie, directly behind her shoulder, and outside the house, something moved. An imperceptible shift of darkness, something black, something evil. It shifted and then disappeared in the next moment.

  What’s that?

  A frisson of fear shot through her, a terrible dread. She blinked again, then gazed more closely out the window, but whatever she’d seen—or thought she’d seen—had gone.

  She glanced over at Malamar to see if he’d noticed, but he sat on his haunches, unconcernedly washing his face with his paw. As usual, Malamar was being utterly useless.

  Victoria grabbed Maddie’s hand and Maddie screamed out.

  “What’s wrong?” Victoria asked.

  “Oh, you scared me.”

  “Come on. Show me around upstairs.”

  “What? Oh, sure, sure.”

  As they left the great room, Maddie glanced back at the dormer window one last time but saw nothing untoward.

  Still, she felt uneasy.

  And with a certain, cold knowledge, she knew something else.

  We’re being watched.

  The girls climbed up the creaky staircase—the real one—even as a tiny voice at the back of her head kept telling her to stop and turn back around and run straight out of the house.

  As they neared the top of the staircase, Maddie again felt that strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She always hated it when the soft, downy neck hairs stood up on end, for it signified danger looming around the next corner. And this time she wouldn’t be able to call upon Nana’s or Mama’s help. Her only assistants were a human girl and a dopey cat.

  Not a good situation, not a good situation at all.

  As Malamar hovered behind them, gazing thoughtfully down the staircase, she and Victoria stepped out onto the landing and looked around.

  “Well,” Victoria said. “This is awesome. So which is your bedroom?”

  “Down at the end of the hallway,” Maddie said, leading the way.

  The girls eased down the length of the hallway to Maddie’s room. As they drew near, Maddie noticed with a start that her bedroom door was closed. Not a huge thing, but it did put Maddie on edge. She distinctly recalled leaving it wide open when she left her room that morning. She did this on purpose, because the late afternoon sunlight gleamed across her bed, and Malamar liked to take a long, luxurious nap sprawled across her coverlet.

  She stopped, glanced behind her, and furrowed her brow.

  “What’s wrong?” Victoria asked.

  “Every door is closed.”

  Victoria stopped to look. “I take it, these are the bedrooms for your family?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at Malamar, who turned his thoughtful gaze upon her. “I usually like to leave the door to my bedroom open, so that Ma—so my cat can sleep on the coverlet.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet of you.”

  “Yes, but I wonder why my bedroom door’s closed.”

  “Hm.”

  Maddie so wanted to ask Malamar what he thought of all this, but if she talked openly to him, Victoria would get worried and perhaps even frightened.

  Maddie did not want to open her bedroom door. Something was wrong, terribly wrong, and she suspected that all her fears resided behind the oak door. She wondered wildly if there were any way she could get Victoria out of the house and safely home, before coming back to see what special treat waited for her in her room. How best to get Victoria out of the house, and quickly, without getting her all nervous?

  “Hey, I got an idea,” Maddie said, reversing her steps and heading back to the front of the landing. “Let’s take a look in these other bedrooms first.”

  Malamar cocked his head quizzically at her and she subtly shook her head.

  Not now, Malamar.

  He nodded, his sea-foam green eyes glowing in the dusky light.

  Nana’s bedroom door stood at the top of the staircase. Maddie walked back to Nana’s room, gently turned the knob and opened the door. As she stepped into her beloved nana’s bedroom, she stood on the Oriental carpet that Nana brought with her; she’d rolled it up into a tight ball and carried it off with her that terrible night when they fled Salem Castle.

  Well, everything looks okay.

  She put her hands on her hips and gazed around the room but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Nana’s bed was neatly made, the coverlet folded just so at the foot of the bed, in case she got cold during the night. Everything looked okay.

  Victoria hovered at her shoulder. “Whose room is this?”

  “My nana’s,” Maddie said, her gaze unfocused. Now that she really looked at her nana’s room, she realized her mistake; she sensed it now, something was wrong. Nana’s room looked normal, tidy, its usual way; but something was not quite right here. Something off.

  Maddie forced herself to focus, and in the moment she did this, her gaze settled on Nana’s crystal ball.

  Uh-oh, better not let Victoria see it.

  She raised her wand to cast a transforming incantation on it—turn it into a snow globe instead of a crystal ball—but ju
st as Maddie uttered the incantation, Victoria’s gaze settled on the crystal ball and her eyes grew wide in amazement.

  “Is that a—is that a crystal ball?”

  I may as well not bother anymore. She’s bound to find out, and besides, I’m running out of time.

  “Yes,” Maddie said with a resigned sigh. “It sure is.”

  Victoria approached the crystal ball, a look of shock, bewilderment, and utter delight flashing across her features. “Wow. That is so amazing.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  Victoria gazed at Maddie, a dawning light rising in her eyes. “Are you—are you a—”

  Victoria didn’t get to finish her question, for the crystal ball grew cloudy; the air inside it suddenly turned viscous, dusky, then black, in the same way that a sky will turn thunderous and foreboding with the impending threat of storm clouds and lightning. The girls focused their full attention on the roiling layers of murky clouds inside the globe.

  “What’s it doing?” Victoria asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Maddie said, although this wasn’t entirely true. She had a pretty good idea, and the thought of it made her sick; bad things were happening to her family. Or already had.

  She swallowed, hard, and bent down to gaze into the crystal ball.

  I know I won’t like what I’m going to see, but I’ve got no choice. I’ve got to find out what’s happened to my family.

  “Wow, isn’t this awesome?” Victoria gazed rapturously at the crystal ball.

  “Oh yeah,” Maddie agreed, but her stomach knotted and a cold dread filled her heart. No good was going to come of this. No good at all.

  ****

  The viscous murk in the crystal ball transformed into threatening storm clouds. Tiny bolts of lightning shot out against the inside of the glass, making both girls jump back in alarm.

  “What’s happening?” Victoria cried, clutching Maddie’s arm.

  Maddie focused her entire attention on the crystal ball.

  Images and sounds cut through the swirls of storm; an agonized face, a piercing cry, a scream. As Maddie drew nearer, the images grew sharper, more focused. She saw her father—her father!—trapped in his carbonite freeze block, a look of agony on his face as the carbonite freeze shot across his face, paralyzing his features into a terrifying rictus of fear and agony. The images changed. She saw her father’s grimy cell, where Ezekiel had ordered him held before he met his fate. A rat perched on his cot, gnawing on the threadbare coverlet.