The Westwood Witches Book 2
A Sorcery of Shadows
Sarah Northwood
The Westwood Witches A Sorcery of Shadows
Copyright © 2019 by Sarah Northwood. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by Brian O’Gorman
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Sarah Northwood
Visit my website at www.sarahnorthwood-author.com
First Printing: Aug 2019
ISBN: 9781691782888
Independently published
There are many special people who helped me to bring this book to life, especially when self-doubt threatened to overtake me. Through their encouragement and support, A Sorcery of Shadows was born, and I will be forever grateful and proud. In no particular order, I’d like to thank, Helen, Kayleigh and Trisha.
As the veritable Hawkeye, Helen should surely get an extra round of thanks for her work proofreading this novel!
I would also like to thank Brian for another fabulous cover.
A special mention goes to Shaun, who was kind enough to give his impartial thoughts as a beta reader and whose feedback was extremely helpful.
I wish also to say thank you to my children, who inspired me to write this series. I hope in the years to come they will look back and know their mother wasn’t just crazy for no reason.
To my husband, who is mostly patient and often tasked with bringing me more wine, you have my thanks as well as my love.
Last but by no means least, for you, my dearest readers, this story was written to be read. If you enjoy it, I’d be so grateful if you could help me by posting a review on Amazon and or Goodreads. Reviews help more than you know!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Other Titles by Sarah Northwood
Prologue
For Aero and her family, the discovery she was a witch came as a bittersweet one. The loss of Aero’s grandma had been the catalyst which resulted in this knowledge. The Westwoods still felt the loss keenly. Her death had created a void which nothing could fill, not even magic.
Being a witch, being a part of a magical family had both positives and negatives. The understanding of why Aero had always felt outside the rest of the world finally made sense. Secrets which had been lingering in dark, dusty cupboards were cast open and brought into the light. But with it had come the knowledge there were people in the world willing to kill them just for their differences.
Whilst Aero had never been a huge fan of fellow pupil Andrew Cole at Poole House Secondary School, he’d since shown her a different side to him. This new Andrew was someone worthy of knowing more about. When the Realworlders had tried to kill her, Andrew had given his life to save her. The knowledge she would never get the opportunity to meet this other Andrew would stay with her forever, just as the secret of the true cause of his death would always remain hidden. Aero had also come to understand that a British secret intelligence group knew of them. Her grandma had even worked for them, attempting to keep them safe, but it hadn’t worked.
Her aunt Louise had once asked, “How many more would have to die to keep their secret?” Aero didn’t know, but the night terrors and cold sweats gave her a horrible sense of foreboding there would be countless more if somebody didn’t do something. The only issue was being a hero wasn’t something on her to do list. What she craved more than anything in the world was not to be weird. To be just an ordinary girl, in a plain, old, boring world.
Aero had also learned of an entirely new Realm, a new dimension. A world which not only fuelled their magical powers but also gave a home to impossible creatures which no human would believe existed. Her knowledge about where she lived had forever been changed. In the Shadow Realm, she had met Constello, a unicorn! So much had happened. Aero tugged harder on the few familiar threads which held her life together and gave daily thanks to the heavens and the Realm for her best friend, Lilly.
Chapter One
Arcadia
Joanna’s heart ached watching every step Louise and her granddaughter took. Each one moved them further away from her. As they both stepped through the bubble to return home to Earth, her legs burned with a longing to follow, compelling her with every fibre to aid them in their journey ahead. Her soul cried out in sorrow, inaudible to all but her. Wailing with secrets, regret and fear for their safety, the heaviness of the knowledge of the pain of what was to come was hers to bear alone. Despite wanting to help, there was nothing to be done. Her eyes and heart both fell to the floor in sorrow.
Joanna had spent more time in her cottage in the Realm than with her beloved family in recent months, working on the impossible task of saving the future. Time spent with them always helped to rejuvenate her spirits and lift her heart, but her work of cultivating the plants which grew, infused with magical brilliance from the waters of Arcadia, had taken priority. It needed to have been worth it.
For the sake of understanding, she thought of Arcadia as a body of water, but the network of Arcadia was nothing at all like those back on earth. Here in the Shadow Realm, it was a rich connection of ancient knowledge. The veins which fed the lake contained, consisted and were entirely comprised of tears. Fissures beneath the surface ran deep with the darkest sorrow and the most jubilant joy of all those who had gone before.
Each and every droplet contained the power of generations of creatures which had returned here at the time of their death, so others could benefit from their unified knowledge. The mythical beings of the Realm had understood, from the first moment they had built the Shadow Realm, that uniting it was the only way forward. The wealth Arcadia contained was incalculable, wonderous and lethal to all those not of the Realm.
Brewing the concoction in her humble cottage, Joanna had worked hard to forge a potion from these seedlings. Each action involved careful precision to ensure no part of her touched the Arcadian water. One moment of the briefest interaction with the silver liquid would give the unlucky recipient a dark and fatal embrace from which there was no return. The alchemic knowledge of an entire heritage would be too much, even for her.
Picking up a bottle from one of the shelves in her cottage, Joanna admired its otherworldly quality. Amongst her skills as an accomplished witch, t
his potion had given her the ability to see countless paths of the future before her. Until there was no more to see. Like a spider’s web on a dewy morning, their hidden patterns were revealed to her in all their intricate glory for the briefest of moments. Rather than just one web, layer upon layer of tracks spun out with the various divergent possibilities, then ended with a snap. She could only see so far and no further. Joanna knew what it had meant. The only explanation which could account for this… her own death.
An ear-piercing shriek interrupted her thoughts. Closing her eyes in pain, the potion fell to the floor. Next came the shrill sound of the glass shattering. She leapt backwards in fear of touching the liquid pooling ever closer to her. Noting the cottage had rapidly filled with an icy chill, Joanna rushed to the front door. “What in the name of the Realm is going on? I almost knocked you flying, Constello!”
Shaking himself off and recovering from the shock of the almost collision, Constello replied in a hushed voice, “Umbria.”
“You’d best get inside then. Hurry!”
Despite sensing from his tone that Constello must be bringing her bad news, a smile touched her lips. Who wouldn’t be filled with happiness, knowing a unicorn had just entered their house? Even here in the Realm, the thought had a peculiar jovialness to it, especially watching him try to enter through the grossly inadequate front door. She wiped the smile off her face in a flash, wishing hard her poor humour had not offended such a good friend.
Putting her arm out as a warning, she said, “Stay back from that. Whilst this wouldn’t kill you, Constello, I fear it might turn even you mad.”
Obeying, Constello kept his head stooped to avoid the ceiling and stayed back from the lethal spillage.
Joanna, now face to face with her friend, could see the pools of wetness on his cheeks. Some unknown knowledge weighed down both his heart and his spirit. She spoke earnestly, all thoughts of light-heartedness evaporated from her thoughts. Urging him on, she said, “Tell me everything.”
“Umbria’s rage is too great, Joanna. The thirst to return to Earth has twisted inside him to become a fire which even I cannot put out. He is set on an invasion. Umbria has ignited support from the other Shadow Creatures as we speak. His talk of reclaiming the old world acted like an elixir, intoxicating the masses. They have rallied together and now we are at war with both humans and with ourselves. The Realm will splinter like this broken glass and Earth will be doomed unless we can do something.”
Hearing the news of the Shadow Creatures’ intention to invade and reclaim Earth, Joanna feared the darkness was just beginning. She frowned at the torment ripping through her friend’s wonderful heart, torn between his loyalty to the creatures he protected and kept safe here in the Realm versus those of the world of Earth. A place which so glibly labelled creatures such as himself as figments of imagination or worse, the stuff of nightmares.
It was not possible to put into words how much appreciation she felt that he had come to her with this. Constello did not need to protect a world where creatures like him were unloved and unwanted. Despite his torment, he had still chosen to do so. Beings like him were rare, and not just because he was a unicorn.
“Joanna, you must leave here before it is too late. Go back to your own time,” Constello insisted, his eyes large and fearful.
Joanna took a deep breath, clearing the rush of thoughts flowing through her mind. In desperation they came frantically, trying to search for a solution. She knew what Arcadia’s magic had shown her. There was no future for her. Joanna’s head sunk to the floor in dismay. “How can I go back to my own time when I can do nothing to save my family?”
“I know it seems helpless, but you are a witch, Joanna. You can protect your loved ones.” He put out his nose for her to stroke. It always brought her comfort.
“But I cannot protect them! I am caught in a cruel song, playing with a twisted ending. I’ve already seen my path and its destination. I won’t be around to keep them safe.”
Constello seemed to shrink before her, as the weight of her words sunk in. “Your spell?”
She nodded. It pained her heart to know he cared for her with such conviction and depth.
“My dearest Joanna, I think I understand. But what are we going to do, then? It is hopeless for us both.”
Joanna continued to rub his nose, but it wasn’t clear whose benefit it was for. “The potion I have spent these past weeks brewing has proven to me what I already suspected; my time is almost over. I cannot go into the future to warn my family, but perhaps there may yet be some small thing I can do in the past. Can I ask, what of the other creatures, do they still follow you?”
“Yes, but our power is already weakening. You have seen the cracks in the Realm for yourself. I do not know how much longer this world can survive.”
“If this world crumbles, Constello, what of the Shadow Creatures?” As she voiced the question aloud the answer flashed in her eyes, together with a new wave of panic. “And what about Umbria’s clan. Do all follow him?”
“Like Umbria, most are sick with the blackest type of magic, a desire to reclaim that which they think belongs to them at any cost. But there may be one who will help us.”
Joanna thought about this lifeline her friend had given, busying herself in the kitchen making tea to soothe their nerves.
“Tell me more. Tell me everything you know,” Joanna counselled.
The pair talked at length, until it became apparent their ideas had disintegrated into nothing more than wishful thinking. There seemed only the thinnest sliver of hope, and the fate of the worlds rested on the young shoulders of Aero and her family.
Joanna now had one final hand, or rather card, with which to gamble. There was someone she must meet, in the hopes of persuading them to help, if both their worlds were to have any chance of survival. Leaving Constello behind to pursue this desperate lifeline, the weight of this responsibility pressed down deep onto her shoulders alone.
It was hours later, following the secret meeting, when at last the expedition brought Joanna’s home back into view. Whilst the temptation to stop for refreshments or to rest ran through her weary body, she did not.
Instead, she went at once to visit with Constello again. To seek his help, as well as his guidance with her own dilemma. There was no one else, besides her own family, that she trusted more. Approaching the entrance to the forest, his home, he was already waiting, as if he had known to expect her. Coming closer, his features became clearer. Joanna began to run, stumbling and falling as she raced to reach his side.
Fresh scratches covered every inch of his body. His once firm and proud legs stood weak and shaking. Unwittingly, a gasp escaped her lips at the sight of the large gaping gash in the hoof of Constello’s near hindquarter. Her beautiful friend trembled. As she surveyed his body, he was battered and bruised everywhere she looked. Fresh red drops of blood dripped from where his horn had once been, stolen for the precious gem it was.
The freshly made hole sparked and fizzed with a striking silver beam of light. Like a lightning bolt burning or a Catherine wheel, Joanna knew that once the light went out his magic would be over. She could not prevent herself from crying for his terrible loss.
“Constello!” Joanna shouted, dropping to her knees in front of him. “What have they done to you?”
Constello stood stoic but weak. His regal magnificence remained untainted. “I couldn’t stop them, Joanna. I tried but I am weak and useless. I’m glad they have taken my horn. I do not deserve it. I am unworthy of my ancestors.”
His words cut like slices into her heart. He was nothing of the sort. He feared he had failed. There were no words to offer to mend his broken heart. Still, she tried.
“Thank the Realm you are still alive! There is hope. The only failure is not to try, my friend of the Realm,” she said softly, speaking as much to herself as to him. “You are what you have always been, and as you always will remain: my friend. With or without a horn, that will not change.”
His eyes flickered.
“I know you, as you have always known me,” she whispered softly. Stroking his neck with a tender hand, she called out to the Realm, tears flowing unchecked. Would it be enough? Was it already too late for her friend?
Meeting him earlier, she had asked of him that which she also asked of herself. An impossible decision, an unmakeable choice. Constello had to protect Aero. He would have to abandon his home in the Realm and head to Earth. Joanna understood all too well how difficult this decision was. He would not wish to leave his people or his home, to protect a family in a world which did not belong to him.
Her wish was to protect him always. But he had been assaulted and targeted because of his gentle heart, making the things she had to ask of him so much harder for them both.
Joanna was glad there was no mirror around in which to see her reflection. She had long since reconciled and come to a peaceful acceptance of the wrinkles which decorated her face. Her hair, grey and without lustre or vitality, would stare back at her in the reflection but would be easy to accept. It was not these things she feared. Her concern lay in knowing that if she were able to view her face now, there would not be resolution or determination there. Instead, it would show uncertainty and the face of a monster who could so thoughtlessly place a friend in such danger.
Her own choice involved the certainty of death. To do the right thing instead of the easy. This was the only way to have a chance to save her family, but her fear resided in the knowledge that, unlike Constello, she would not be so brave.
Kneeling in front of him, Joanna muttered a quiet spell of healing under her breath. Once her friend appeared to be somewhat restored, she said, “Come quickly, back to the cottage. We will see what can be done about this horn.” Joanna knew time was of the essence as the two hurried back.
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