Nature of the Witch

by Helen T. Norwood

  “You need to banish them back to their world,” he told her patiently.

  “Okay,” Kiera nodded, “banish them, yes.”

  How on earth do I do that?

  “Go and collect your flower, then we will talk further.”

  Kiera scrambled to her feet. She paused before she reached out for the next branch, “You didn't have to bargain with me, I would've helped you even if I couldn't pick the flower.”

  The tree-spirit nodded with a kind smile, “Yes, I believe you would. But the fact is that only you can choose the path you will take. I, and others, can only guide you so far. I have told you the danger of this flower and now you must decide whether you use it or not.”

  Kiera pulled herself up to the next branch, mulling over everything she had been told. If she performed the spell she could bring back her dad, but it would blacken her soul. And faeries were real and she needed to find a way to banish them back to the faerie world. When she got home after all this she was going to need a strong cup of tea.

  She didn't see the flowers until she was almost upon them. They were the most beautiful flower she had ever seen. The colours were so vibrant that they shone through the darkness, all different colours as though someone had lain down a rainbow at the top of the tree.

  And yet it was the strangest thing; she felt no happiness as she stared down upon them. If anything she felt sad and weary, it was as though they were stealing any joy from her body and leaving her only with misery. Perhaps that's why the flowers were so beautiful, because they contained all the joy they had stolen from everyone else.

  Kiera knew that if she stayed any longer she would just curl up amongst the flowers and cry, so she quickly chopped off the stems of the closest few flowers and shoved them inside her bag. Then she shimmied back down the tree trunk, her heart lightening each time she moved further away.

  When she had clambered part of the way down and she felt her spirits had lifted she stopped. She sat on the branch and rested her head against the trunk.

  What a strange feeling. When she looked up the old man was sitting beside her.

  “What do I need to do to banish the faeries for you?”

  “It is rather like setting off a bomb,” he informed her, “a magical bomb that will blast them back to their realm.”

  “A bomb?” Kiera asked him raising an eyebrow. “I've never done anything like that before. Won't it hurt you?”

  “No the spell won't hurt the trees and so won't hurt me,” he placed a hand on her shoulder and staring earnestly with his large, dark eyes he said, “but it could hurt you. You will only have a moment to get away. Get away from the trees and most importantly make sure that a faerie isn't touching you when the blast occurs. If they are holding on to you at the moment of banishment then you will be lost too.”

  Kiera took a deep breath, “Okay. What do I need?”

  “Iron,” the old man replied, “faeries are repelled with iron, in fact the touch of pure iron can burn them. And Rowan.”

  “Rowan?” Kiera enquired.

  “Rowan is known as a portal tree. It signifies the crossing of two worlds, in this case ours and the faerie realm. Once you have those you place them on top of each other. Then you start a tornado…”

  “A tornado!” Kiera exclaimed in horror.

  “Yes but just a mini one that will mix the two elements together. Then you get out of the way before the blast. It's really quite simple.”

  It didn't sound simple to Kiera, “I've never conjured a tornado before. They can do a lot of damage, it might take out half of Truro.”

  The old man shook his head, “You, Daughter of the Earth, are nature's child. It will listen to your commands. Now move quickly and retrieve what you need. The spell must be performed at sunrise. When night turns into day the link between our world and the realm of the fay is at its weakest and is easier to breach.”

  Kiera sat and thought for a moment. She knew what she needed to do. They kept rowan at home in the pantry with other herbs and tinctures, and she was sure the poker Kitto used for the coal-fire was made from iron. It would soon be sunrise, if she tried to walk home and back again she would be too late.

  “Close your eyes,” the man told her.

  She gripped her bag and closed her eyes. She felt his fingers lightly touch her forehead.

  “Now think of where you need to go and when you have the image in your mind's eye say 'delivra evy dhe hem le.' When you're ready to come back do the same, picture the trees, say the words and I will bring you here.”

  Kiera nodded and tried to recall what the words meant. She knew it was Cornish for something. She concentrated all her energy into thinking about the living room at Kitto's house. She pictured it vividly. Then she muttered “delivra evy dhe hem le.”

  When she opened her eyes she was sitting in the darkness of Kitto's living room. The house was silent so everyone was probably still in bed. With any luck she could stick to her plan and return home before they realised she was missing.

  She pondered briefly how different a life could become in such a short space of time. There was a time she didn't believe magic existed but now she wasn't fazed when she was magically transported by a talking tree.

  She was tempted to wake Kitto and ask for his help with the spell, but then she would have to explain what she was doing there in the first place. Although she hadn't decided yet what she would do with the Grim seed she needed time to think about it herself.

  She rose to her feet and placed her bag behind the chair. She would retrieve it later. Then she moved quickly, grabbing the poker from its place by the fire before tip-toeing to the kitchen (her earlier spell of silence had worn off) and opening the door to the pantry. She scanned the lines of bottles before finding the one she wanted.

  Kitto had written 'Rowan' on the label and then scrawled underneath 'useful in Apotrapaic magic.'

  “Whatever that is,” Kiera whispered to herself.

  She slipped the rowan in her pocket and gripped the poker. Then she closed her eyes and imagined the copse of trees. She focused on the image of herself standing in the middle until it was vivid in her mind. She uttered the same words and felt a breeze on her face and when she opened her eyes she was back and the tree-spirit was standing in front of her.

  “Move quickly,” he whispered, “they will soon realise what you are doing.”

  Then he was gone. Kiera took a deep breath. She placed the poker on the grass. Then she opened the jar and sprinkled some of the ground bark of the Rowan tree on top. From behind her the grass began to crunch softly as though someone was approaching. She spun round but could see no-one. Her breathing quickened as she scanned the clearing. All was silent.

  She turned back and let out a small scream. Three creatures stood staring at her from only a short distance away. Their faces were pure white with smooth skin and sharp features. Each one was the same, with a mass of wispy black hair and unblinking blue eyes. They wore old-fashioned style clothing, waistcoats and tatty looking trousers.

  Kiera's hands began to shake as they slowly stepped closer towards her. She averted her gaze from their unnerving stare and looked down at the items before her. She held her shaky hands out and began to conjure the tornado. In her mind she beseeched Mother Nature to help her, she imagined the force of a tornado and began to channel that feeling throughout her body.

  Instantly she began to feel the air beneath her fingers move. She smiled as it swirled around faster and faster into a tiny funnel. When she glanced up the faeries were glaring at her and her heartbeat quickened. The funnel of air grew larger beneath her and the poker and the herbs began to move, shaking as they lifted lightly off the ground.

  One of the faeries growled at her in anger. She saw him raise his hand and swipe it at her. The magic left his fingertips as a sharp burst of green colour and spontaneously she blocked it. She wasn't even sure how she did it. She had never performed a blocking spell before, but it came to her naturally as each of the encha
nted beings threw spells at her in bursts of green. She blocked them with one hand while the other controlled the growing winds. The wind was strong now. It blew at her hair and threw the poker and the rowan around inside its narrow funnel.

  It's time to leave, she thought.

  She was suddenly aware of a presence at her side. She turned just in time to see a wisp of green. There was a fourth faerie! She was too late to block him and she felt the blow as though she had been forcibly struck. It sent her spinning across the grass. She tried to get to her feet, but a second blow picked her up so that she was dangling upside down and then sent her hurtling towards a tree. As soon as she hit the tree she knew she had broken something, she heard the dull crack around her ribs and felt a pain sear across her chest.

  She opened her eyes and saw the branches of the trees blowing wildly in the strong winds.

  I have to get out, she thought hazily.

  But her body wouldn't move.

  Then the old man was standing over her.

  “Go,” he urged, “get out of here.”

  His words spurred her to roll over just in time to see a flash of green. The tree above her lunged forward with an enormous creak and its branches encased her protectively. She looked up into the eyes of a woman, with long hair and skin the same pale colour as her bark. Another tree spirit. They were trying to help her.

  She jumped to her feet and began to run. She ignored the pain and flung herself forward. Branches moved to let her through and behind her she heard the sound of the winds she had created.

  The light of dawn could be seen through the trees. She burst out into an eruption of pinks painted across the beautiful morning sky. Her face broke into a smile but it wasn't over. Suddenly a hand grabbed hold of her ankle and she fell hard to the floor. She turned and saw two of the faeries with a tight grip on her leg and a look of hatred in their eyes. She tried to grab hold of something as they dragged her roughly back into the trees. She had one last look at the rising sun before the blast hit her and she knew it was over.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Jack gazed out of the window as he munched thoughtfully on a piece of toast. He didn't hear Kitto enter.

  “Is Kiera meditating?” He asked.

  Jack turned to face him and tried to sound casual, “I looked outside but didn't see her. I think she's still in bed.”

  “Well, she wasn't feeling very well last night so we'll let her sleep in today shall we?” Kitto put a saucepan on the hob and set about making porridge.

  “Hmmmm,” Jack turned back to look out of the window. Something isn't right.

  “Happy New Year,” he said as he left the room and headed upstairs. He stood outside Kiera's bedroom door and listened intently. Everything was silent.

  “What are you doing?” Kitto whispered loudly from behind him, making him jump.

  Jack shrugged awkwardly, “It's nothing, I just can't shake the feeling that something's up.”

  Kitto looked at him for a moment, “Then we must check. Always trust your instincts Jack.”

  Jack gently pushed the handle down and opened the door. They crept in so as not to disturb her if she was sleeping. He hoped she didn't wake as she'd have the shock of her life to find them both staring down at her.

  The bed was empty. Scattered across her duvet was a collection of small stones. Kitto picked a couple up and ran them through his fingers.

  He frowned, “These are enchanted. She wanted anyone who entered her bedroom last night to think she was sleeping in her bed. But why? Where do you think she could be? Do you think she ran away?”

  Jack's stomach sank a little, “I don't know but I have a feeling that wherever she is, it's bad.”

  Jack sat in Kiera's room and surrounded himself with her things. Kitto had left to speak to Mags and see if she had any idea as to Kiera's whereabouts. He picked up her books and began to flick through them, hoping to find a clue.

  Part of him was angry with her. Why would she lie to them? Why had she left? Was she planning on coming back? And part of him was disappointed. They had had a rocky start but he thought they'd been getting along well these past few weeks. Why didn't she turn to him if she needed help? And if she really had left for good why didn't she even say goodbye?

  Despite his wounded ego at the thought that she had walked out on him, there was another feeling: fear. What if something bad had happened to her? What if she was wounded or worse? The thought made his stomach churn. It would mean that he had failed to protect her. But even worse than that, it meant that he might never see her again. And he was surprised to find that the thought was unbearable.

  He was leafing through one of her spell books. It was handwritten and difficult to decipher, written in a scrawl that most doctors would be proud of. A scrap of paper fell out. He read the title and groaned, 'A spell to raise the dead.'

  Kiera, what have you gotten yourself into, he thought.

  He scanned down the page. He didn't recognise some of the words, but then that was hardly surprising since he wasn't a witch. He was particularly intrigued by the final ingredient, 'Grim seed.'

  He began looking through some of her other books but couldn't find anything about Grim Seed. Finally he picked up the book Kiera had received from Mags for Christmas.

  Grim Seed

  At the stroke of midnight on the eve of the New Year this flower blooms. It must be harvested quickly for it only blooms until the sun rises. You will find it at the top of the most ancient trees. Do not be fooled by the beauty of this flower for it carries a darkness within.

  Jack sighed. She had gone out last night to find Grim Seed. She had annotated around the page with possible locations of ancient trees. How would he know where she had decided to go? Then he spotted a location and he knew it was the right place. He had taken her shooting there the day before.

  Jack and Kitto drove in silence. Every so often Kitto asked, “So you really think she came here last night?”

  Jack would nod but didn't expand as to his reasoning. He wasn't sure why he didn't tell Kitto about the Grim Seed or the spell. Mainly he thought it was because he didn't want Kitto worrying, but also there was something private about what Kiera had been trying to do. He just needed to find her and make sure she was okay, and then he would talk to her about raising people from the dead and tell her exactly how crazy the idea was.

  The copse of trees was only a short drive. It was set back from the road so Jack parked at the kerb and they climbed out. They retrieved their staffs from the boot and made their way to the group of trees.

  Jack whistled as they entered the shaded copse. Outside of the trees everything seemed normal but inside it looked like a bomb had gone off. Grass had been uprooted exposing the bare soil beneath and branches were scattered around, torn from the trees.

  “Was the weather bad last night?” Kitto asked perplexed. “This place looks like it's been hit by a…”

  “Tornado,” interrupted a gentle voice from behind them.

  They both spun round, staffs raised, ready to defend themselves. Jack certainly wasn't prepared to find himself facing something that looked half-man, half-tree. The old man was watching them, his body as gnarled and twisted as the trees around him but his large eyes were sharp.

  Jack glanced at Kitto who looked surprisingly calm. Kitto lowered his staff but Jack wasn't so sure.

  The old man looked at Jack and said dryly, “Surely you can see the irony in threatening a tree with a piece of wood?”

  Kitto nodded at him to lower his staff and Jack did as he was told, but he watched the man carefully.

  “Our apologies for bursting in on you like this,” Kitto said stepping forward with his head bowed almost reverently, “we are…”

  “Gwithiaz,” the man interrupted, “and you are looking for your witch.”

  “Yes,” Kitto nodded eagerly, “we…”

  “Where is she?” Jack said more forcefully than he had intended. He didn't have time to mess around, Kiera might be hur
t.

  Kitto raised his hand to signal Jack to be quiet and turned apologetically to the tree-spirit, “We're worried about her. Could you help us find her?”

  The old man sighed sadly and nodded, “Yes of course. I've been waiting for you. Kiera came here last night but now she is gone.”

  “Where did she go?” Kitto asked quickly before Jack could jump in.

  “We had a faerie problem. Kiera was helping us but I'm afraid…”

  “A faerie problem,” Jack repeated confused.

  “Yes faeries,” the man replied patiently.

  “As in Tinkerbell?” he asked sceptically.

  “I don't think Tinkerbell made this mess,” Kitto glanced around them, “what exactly happened here?”

  “A group of faeries attached themselves to us; they were draining our energy and getting bolder by the day. Kiera came here last night and agreed to help. She performed a spell that would send them back to the realm of the fay.”

  “Did it work?” Jack asked, scanning the trees for any small beings with wings.

  “Yes it worked,” the old man bowed his head, “the spell required her to create a tornado. She had it under control but just before she could get away they grabbed hold of her and she was lost with them.”

  “Lost?” Jack frowned. “What do you mean? Where is she?”

  Kitto sank to the ground, shaking his head in disbelief, “Then she is gone. There is no way to get her back from there.”

  “From where?” Jack looked from Kitto to the old man. “You're going to have to spell it out to me, because I'm still stuck at the part where a man who looks like a tree started talking to me and told me faeries were real.”

  “She has been taken to the faerie realm,” Kitto's head dropped into his hands, “there is no way to bring someone back from there.”

  Jack shook his head, “There must be. I'll find a way.”

  “I may be able to help you,” the old man sat himself down on a fallen tree branch and signalled for Kitto and Jack to gather round him, “I sensed that she did not follow the fairies all the way.”