I snapped my fingers lighting a fire beneath the black cauldron in the center of the room. Flames quickly licked up the metal sides and the wood snapped and popped. Waving my hand water filled the vessel to the brim and roared with scorching, rolling bubbles.
I returned to my spell book ready to enact Lucidum Somnium.
Instead, the page was open to Tardus Tempore, a spell that slowed down time.
A shiver rippled through me. I stepped away from my desk and looked at each corner of the room. No one was there. Still, I couldn’t shake an odd sensation of a presence. It radiated from beneath my desk.
My heart picked up pace as I bent down to look. Nothing but stone and dirt.
Wind whistled through the window, a draft the most likely culprit for my unease. Jitters were wasting my time. Rising, I ignored the feeling and turned back to the correct page.
The smell of rot singed my eyes as I uncorked the first bottle.
“A touch of toad skin,” I repeated, reading the ingredient list.
I poured the floating pelts into the boiling cauldron and corked the bottle quickly back up. No matter what you’ve been told, toad pelts do not smell like a forest after a rain shower.
“A sprig each of nightshade, chamomile, and mugwort.”
I dropped in each piece of plant one by one, each giving off a quick scream.
“Hooves of an animal most pure,” I read next, plopping in some doe hooves.
The stench was overwhelming now. I tried to fan it away, but it clung to the insides of my nose.
“Tongue of a wise man.”
I picked up the largest bottle and stared at the pickled flesh floating in the yellow liquid. I opened the container and threw in the entire contents, a plume of smoke rising from the stinking water.
Two ingredients remained.
“Breath of the dying.”
I opening the cork I poured the twisting wisps into the potion, and a faintest shriek sounded the moment they dove into the rolling boil. Clouds of purple rose and slipped over the sides.
Picking up the fraying spell book I ran my finger down the list to the final ingredient.
“An object once loved.”
Easier said than done. No mementos existed from my childhood, Edward had seen to that. It would have to be something that came later. I snapped my fingers as an idea came to mind.
I tossed open a heavy wooden trunk, mildew tainting the air. Jars, knickknacks, and piles of parchment littered the inside. I dove my hand into the remains of past conquests and missions until I touched something bouncy. Itchy.
Grabbing it, I pulled it up through the surface. A simple, green ball of yarn. The first I ever spun. The memory of that moment still made my heart sing.
Not wanting to waste a minute more, I tossed it into the potion and read the incantation.
Ad somnum. Ut somnium.
Per corneam portam.
Manere.
Vivere.
Usque ut exitetur.
I waited, tapping my foot.
The potion continued to boil, not stilling like glass as it should.
I read the incantation again, being sure to pronounce each word clearly.
Ad somnum. Ut somnium.
Per corneam portam.
Manere.
Vivere.
Usque ut exitetur.
Still, nothing.
It didn’t work.
I sat on the floor and shoved my face into my hands.
“Dammit,” I breathed. It wasn’t near strong enough. I would have to find something else, the only problem was I had nothing else.
Except…
I lifted my head. Turning my neck, I stared at the same cabinet where I hid the spell book. I stood, ignoring the chill rolling in my stomach.
That was the only way.
I brushed off the cobwebs sticking to a carved pattern of a pomegranate. Running my finger within its dips and curves, I pressed a hidden control in the center. The bottom sprung open revealing a compartment, and inside a small, wooden box.
My heart skipped. I had not laid eyes on the thing in nineteen years. Couldn’t.
A thick layer of dust covered the sheen and the hinges were rusted. That didn’t matter. Only what lay inside.
Wiping it clean with my sleeve, I opened the lid. A chain of gold connected to a pendant speckled with rubies glinted back at me. Beside it, lay a plain band of silver.
Laila had once bargained with these mementos in exchange for her life. In exchange for me spinning those mountains of straw into gold for her.
With a trembling hand I retrieved the necklace and let it dangle from my fingers. It sparkled as brightly as the last time I saw it. The memory of Laila’s despair from our first meeting filled me, pulsing my blood and thundering my heart. God, she was electric! A soul able to hold an entire kingdom, yet she was dealt only torment.
And it was my fault.
Remorse gripped my throat. Pain bit into my palm as I finally realized how tightly I clasped Laila’s necklace.
I stared at the glittering constellation of rubies. I saved it for a rainy day, and now it poured. Yet, I was incapable of letting it go.
You’re honestly going to let a little sentimental piece of metal stand in the way of saving your life? My own voice rocked through my memory.
Shaking the chill away, I held the necklace over the churning pot and let the golden thread slip from my fingers. I closed my eyes as the final inch skated from my touch and into the putrid stew where it ceased to exist.
For a second time, the necklace would save Laila’s life.
Ad somnum. Ut somnium.
Per corneam portam.
Manere.
Vivere.
Usque ut exitetur.
The cauldron fumed and raged before going completely still. Purple smoke poured down the sides.
Once all the ingredients are in place, stir with a wand made of willow. Then, you must break off a piece of the willow and keep it with you. This will be your talisman, and will help bind the potion to you and keep you protected.
I grabbed a willow wand and stirred the contents together until the most beautiful iridescent hues were achieved. Pale pinks and blues swirled together in serene harmony. The smell remained grotesque.
I snapped the wand and ladled out the potion into two glass vials. I stoppered the one, and placed it deep within my pockets along with the broken piece of willow. Laila and I would need them if we had any hope to return.
I grabbed the bottle that would be Fate’s new prison and made my way to a cot on the floor and sat down. I prepared myself for what I must do.
I still couldn’t believe Laila was really alive. I didn’t know where Fate hid her in this dream realm, but I knew I would find her.
Holding out the vial I inspected the pretty color once more. Fear rippled down my skin and I swore I could sense a smile from an invisible entity. As if Fate was pleased.
Was I a fool to drink it? I was going right into his embrace. I was giving him what he wanted most: me.
My grip tightened on the bottle.
The hues in the vial glimmered peacefully, telling me what I already knew. I couldn’t abandon her again.
Pressing the rim against my lips, I shot it back into my mouth before I could think twice again. The taste was gruesome. Metallic rot seized my tongue and forced me to gag. A wave of stomach punching sick followed.
Tingling washed down my body and my fingers grew weak and flaccid. The vial smashed to the floor, exploding in small iridescent puddles and shimmering crystal. My breaths grew deep, and my heart slowed. I was no longer in control of my body, and fear gripped me. Had I made a mistake?
I laid down and managed to cross my arms over my chest. My skin chilled. My eyelids shut and I was plunged into darkness. I fought to stay awake, but the overwhelming heaviness pressed onto my body. Sleep weighed down my every cell. It was stifling.
Even my fear started to blur. Sleep was winning. I couldn’t let that hap
pen.
I focused my mind on anything that would ground me. The snap of the fire. The cold of my bones. But fresh waves of tranquility surged over me wanting me to forget the sounds and surrender everything to sleep.
Rain pelted the roof. I shook as I fell into slumber, fell into darkness for what seemed a hundred years. I strained to hear the cauldron boiling. I couldn’t move a muscle and never wanted to again.
Remain focused. Concentrated. Succeed.
Peck, peck, peck.
My eyes shot open surprised to find myself still in my rooms. Sensation rushed into my hands and feet. I regained control of my body.
Still heavy from the effects of the potion, I braced myself against a wall and rose from the floor. I pressed my fist into my head to stop the pounding. The spinning.
Had it worked?
Peck, peck, peck.
I turned towards the peculiar sound, unsure if it was real or imaginary.
Peck, peck, peck.
It came from the window. Stumbling towards the shutters I threw them open. A large raven stood on the windowsill staring at me. His dark feathers glistened and his eyes resembled black marbles.
I was beguiled, like a small child reading a fairy tale.
He fluttered his majestic wings and flew onto the table where he scratched the wood with his claws. A cawing sound resounded out of his pointed beak, his pink tongue vibrant against the gloom of his plumage.
I thought myself momentarily mad. I blinked trying to clear my head. The raven blinked back.
“From where have you come?” I asked.
The raven only answered by nipping at my fingers, as if to tell me I was silly to ask such a question.
“Are you a guide?”
It cawed again.
“Show me,” I commanded.
Hopping three times, the bird spread its wings and beat them until it rose in the air. Out the window it flew and into the night.
The whole world seemed out of focus, irrelevant in light of this creature. All other pursuits fell away as I was consumed with the need to follow it.
I jaunted down a forest path, my eyes eternally on the raven soaring overhead.
TRISTAN
I only had seconds before he noticed someone else had turned the pages of his spell book. Thankfully, I could slip behind a velvet curtain before he searched beneath the table. I kept my breaths still and body rigid as he continued his hunt.
Once he gave up, I dared to watch him through a hole in the fabric.
He started to brew a potion that sickened me. The stench burned the back of my throat. I hid my nose beneath my shirt and gripped my stomach, trying hard not to retch on the floor.
I’d often seen him perform magic, but never anything quite so dark. He dissolved tongues, hooves, and a golden necklace—an object once loved. How had a piece of jewelry been special to him?
My thoughts were cut short when I saw him sit on a cot. He shot back a vial of the potion. Grimaced. Laid down. Shivered and convulsed. gColdness hit my gut witnessing such violent effects. The spasms continued to cause him to thrash, until he utterly stilled. For a heartbeat I believed him dead.
I approached him with cautious steps and looked over his frozen body. Or was it now a corpse?
Reaching down I took his hand and cringed. His hand felt like ice. Gripping his shoulders I prepared to shake him when his eyes flashed open.
I fell back. Fear mixed with relief.
He stood. He looked at me. Directly at me, but he did not see me. He walked over to a table. He spoke to something that wasn’t there and followed it out the door.
He was gone.
The door remained opened.
Now was my chance for escape.
I ran towards the moonlit outdoors. Everything I had ever read, ever wanted laid mere inches from me now. All I had to do was take that first, bold step towards what I wanted. Adventure.
The ocean.
I skidded to a stop right before the threshold once my brain caught up with my enthusiasm. Eight years before I attempted a similar feat, only to be blown back.
Putting out my right hand I reached slowly towards the night. My fingertips glided over something solid. Unmovable. Greens and purples splintered through the door frame. A shield blocked my way.
No other choice remained but for me to break the spell.
Stepping back more determined than ever, I returned to the spell book. If I wanted to defeat this force, it would have to be named.
I paged by Immobiles Faciunt Hostis, and past Creare Pulchritudo. I sped by spells and incantations and charms.
I smiled.
Praesidium Munitum: A shield spell to keep those one wishes inside.
“When a thing has a name it can be destroyed,” I said, congratulating myself on this victory.
Pulling my finger down the page I read through the required methods and ingredients. Past planetary alignments and a jungle of diagrams consisting of stars and numbers. It was enough to make one’s head spin. But I didn’t want to cast the spell, I wanted to break it.
Though only the caster can break the spell, rare instances have been recorded that the use of an amulet can allow one to pass through unhindered.
I pressed my lips together. It was settled. I would have to create an amulet. My insides electrified at the chance to try my hand at magic. I only hoped it would be less gruesome than what Pater concocted.
Excitement filling me, I scanned the stack of books to my left. Surely one of them would contain something about amulet preparations.
Venom and Poison
Dark Arts through the Ages
Aspects and Glamours
I clenched my jaw. Hexing a village was not my current priority. I bent down lower, until my knees fell against the cold stone. I moved my eyes left to right. Looking. Searching.
Charms, Protections, and their Uses
I carefully pulled it from the tower and read down the index of disintegrating ink until I found what I desired. I turned to page three-hundred and forty-nine.
An amulet can be created from any relic, as long as the relic is special. Once the relic is procured, the maker must use their own energy to charge the amulet. It is vital the amulet receive all the maker’s energy. In order to fully charge the amulet, the maker must unclothe themselves and stand naked and open to the universe. A white, virgin candle must also be procured and lit for this purpose.
Once lit, take the relic and swing it through the smoke to cleanse and grant your power. The maker must stay concentrated on what they wish the amulet do. You will sense once it has become yours.
An image of an ancient Roman coin came to mind. Pater had given it to me as a birthday gift long ago. There was only one small problem with using the coin as this “special relic.” I couldn’t risk going upstairs. The door to these chambers might seal shut locking me out. Or Frau Latten might wake and start asking questions.
I couldn’t risk any of these scenarios. The amulet would have to be made with something from down here.
I opened containers and pots. Searched in the same trunk Pater rummaged through. Nothing but knickknacks and a twig of straw. I needed a small object, preferably something I could wear around my neck.
An idea struck me. Why was I looking in this trunk when even Pater didn’t find his “object once loved”?
My gaze fell on the old cabinet shoved hard against the back wall. I approached it with careful steps and looked inside, curious of its secrets. A small compartment remained open and inside a plain band of silver sat at the bottom.
I wondered again his purpose for keeping women’s jewelry hidden away. Then, he was always a touch eccentric. What mattered was if it worked. My hope bubbled. I was certain if what this cabinet contained was good enough for Pater’s spell of horror, then it would be good enough for my simple amulet.
I took the ring and strung it through a chain I grabbed off another shelf. Placing an unused, white candle on a gnarled table I lit the wick. It burned with a
beautiful yellow flame.
Sucking in a breath I prepared for what I must do.
I unbuttoned my shirt and peeled the fabric away from my skin. My trousers and everything else followed. There I stood. Alone in Pater’s chambers completely naked. A sense of exposure rippled down my back. In truth, I hated the granules of dirt and grime sticking to bottoms of my feet far more.
Taking in another breath, I held out the ring and let it dangle over the candle.
Gray smoke curled around the ring. I started swaying it from left to right, all the while concentrating on what I wanted it to do. The chill of the room faded. Even the irritation of the sand prickling my toes dissolved. There was only I and the ring.
I focused harder. On the continuous arc, on the silver. On every pit and ding. I breathed again, turning inward, inflaming a heat in my heart. I concentrated on the heat, desiring it to strengthen until it turned into a blaze. My chest pulsed with heat.
Exhaling, I pushed the fire smoldering out of my chest and down through my arm. I imagined it collecting in my hand and fingertips, until it burned down the chain and filled the ring with my fire.
The chain stopped swaying. An invisible force stilled the ring. A red sheen caused the silver to glow.
I kept pushing my energy into it, telling the amulet my mantra of what I wanted: Freedom. Passageway. Release.
A flash of a woman echoing the word freedom filled my mind, like the ring spoke to me. Or a memory within the ring.
I closed my eyes. I repeated my mantra again: Freedom. Passageway. Release.
An emotion rang still and clear, filling me to the brim with an answer. There were no words to the emotion, but yet it spoke many things. Intricate things. I understood everything.
I opened my eyes. The glow sucked back into the ring. The answers fell silent. The amulet bobbled again with my trembling.
I placed it around my neck and got dressed quickly.
The moment of truth came. I stood before the doorway, one hand clasped around the amulet, and the other outstretched. I stepped closer to the outdoors, expecting the energy to charge through me again. Another step closer. Nothing.
My arm passed through the threshold. A sensation of cold water spilled over my wrist. Again, I stepped. Cold water rolled over my head, and down my shoulders. I passed over the threshold.
Twist: A Fairy Tale Awakening (Spindlewind Trilogy Book Two) Page 6