Corviticus University: Family Ties

by J. E. Cluney

  “I swear upon my very existence that that is the complete truth. I have no reason to lie to you, miss Smoak. I know what this is, this void within you. It’s a part of your power.” He held up his hands in surrender as he pursed his lips.

  “Where did you come from?” I asked, my chest tightening. What the hell was this? What was going on? Even my banshee side was a little confused, and she normally had answers for me.

  “Oh, well, I think that may upset you, Miss Smoak,” he sighed as he dropped his hands to his side.

  “Allison,” I growled softly. Miss Smoak sounded so strange, like I was a teacher. Too formal.

  “My apologies, Allison,” he nodded respectfully.

  “Tell me,” I demanded.

  He sighed, giving me a thin-lipped smile. “I was born in 1790, and the last few days I remember, it was 1847. I’d used my magic to remain youthful, as many of us warlocks do. But something happened, and everything after that is a black haze, until now. I can’t remember what happened either,” he murmured, watching me carefully for my response.

  I just stared at him, my mind reeling from this.

  He was from the 1800’s? That explained the clothes. But what the hell? Was I having some sort of spirit thing like Emma? Why was an obviously dead guy in my void?

  A warlock?

  My eyes widened as my banshee side whispered to me, and a wave of horror washed over me as I stumbled backwards.

  “Ma’am?” Walter frowned as he reached out to assist me.

  I flinched away from his hand like it was toxic, and a pained expression washed over his features.

  “It’s you,” I gasped, the truth clicking into place as my banshee side coiled up protectively inside me.

  “I’m not quite sure I’m understanding you,” he said, completely baffled as he cocked his head at me.

  It seemed impossible, that this strangely enigmatic man with such manners was something so ghastly.

  Something so utterly wrong.

  “Miss Smoak? What’s going on? The void feels strange,” Walter looked panicked as he glanced around him.

  My void, my banshee side, it was turning on him.

  It wanted him gone, and I didn’t blame it at all.

  “You’re a monster,” I hissed.

  He gave me the strangest look, one of horror and pain, and then a sudden onset of fear as my void began to swirl menacingly around him.

  “I assure you I’m not,” he pleaded, crouching down in an effort to protect himself as my void moved in on him.

  “You’re the wendigo.”

  Chapter 3

  “A what?” Walter just blinked dumbly, still shielding himself with his arms as my void closed in on him.

  “The wendigo, the one who killed my parents and wanted to kill me,” I growled, surprised that my voice didn’t waver.

  Walter grunted as he collapsed forward, pinned to the ground as my void pressed down on him.

  Black tendrils were snaking around him, holding him down.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, please, I’m a healer,” he pleaded, grunting and gritting his teeth as the darkness crushed him down.

  “You’re lying,” I snapped, but something inside me forced me to let up a little.

  He gasped for air, having been struggling to breathe.

  “Let me show you the truth,” he begged as he flicked his fingers, his hand still held down by the darkness.

  I didn’t get a chance to respond as I slipped into a scene.

  The room came into focus, and I found myself in an old, mostly empty room with just a bed and bedside table.

  A young, frail looking boy was in the bed, his face taut and his breathing shallow.

  I stepped closer to him, peering down at the young boy, my heart aching for him.

  I knew instantly he was dying. Yellow fever.

  “Please, please help my boy.”

  I turned, stepping aside as Walter strode into the room. He was wearing a brown tailcoat now, and his top hat was gone. His beard was drastically longer, but he looked as youthful as he did in my void.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, but he didn’t see me.

  I was in a memory of his, I knew that. I knew from the woman’s clothes and the candle on the bedside table that we were in a memory from the 1800s.

  The mother looked worn and tired, but her eyes were wide as she clasped her hands before her chest, watching silently as Walter looked over the boy. He pulled out a stethoscope, listening to the boys chest, who didn’t even rouse from his slumber.

  “I can save him,” Walter stated, and the woman let out a soft cry of relief.

  “Please, I’ll pay anything,” she choked.

  “Not necessary, ma’am,” Walter gave her a brief nod and smile.

  I was closer to the bedside table, while the mother was over by the door.

  So she didn’t see the flicker of green magic in his hand as he pulled out a vial.

  I watched as he lifted the boy’s head and carefully poured it into his cracked, parted lips.

  The boy sputtered, opening his eyes and instantly finding his mother.

  “Mother,” he rasped, reaching out with a frail hand.

  The sound his mother made had my heart wrenching as she hurried over and took his hand.

  “I’m right here, Thomas,” she cried.

  “He’s to take this for the next three days. One mouthful a day. He’ll use it all up by then,” Walter instructed as he set the small vial on the bedside table. He turned to the woman, giving her a gentle smile. “Your son will be fine. You will not lose another child to this plague.”

  The woman managed a relieved smile, one so full of gratitude and awe that even I was moved.

  “Thank you, Mr Murphy. Thank you,” she clutched his hand, bowing down to him.

  “Please, ma’am,” he gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before removing his hand softly. “Take care of your boy. These are difficult times, and we all need one another now more than ever.”

  She nodded, her eyes focusing back on her son, who’d already regained some color in his face.

  “It’s a miracle,” she murmured as she crouched down beside the bed.

  A small smile played at Walter’s lips as he turned away, leaving the mother with her son as he exited the room.

  The room dissipated, leaving me in the void once more, with Walter still pinned to the ground.

  That one memory had revealed more than just images. I’d felt his emotions, his desire to help others. His joy at seeing the boy open his eyes.

  How could this man, this doctor, be the wendigo?

  “I don’t understand,” I murmured as I stared down at him, at the troubled look on his face.

  “Neither do I,” he sighed.

  My banshee moved inside me, whispering once more.

  I knelt down, touching Walter’s hand.

  I could show him my own memories from within this void.

  His eyes flooded black, and I slipped into the memories alongside him.

  I showed him the fight at Bob’s place, the wendigo attacking my mates.

  I cringed as I felt his fear and despair at the memory, the hopelessness within him.

  He watched through my eyes as I protected my mates and struck down the wendigo.

  And then the realization washed through me from him.

  As the wendigo died and the skull remained, it was as if I’d revealed a horrid truth to him.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  The true pain and agony in those words that swept through me made me bow over from the intensity of it.

  I was back in the void, but only the darkness greeted.

  And yet the utter self-hatred and despair remained, swirling around in the darkness.

  Walter was still here, I knew that, but I couldn’t find him, only feel him. And he was in a pit of despair, wallowing about what had happened.

  I chewed my lip, my own feelings a struggle to decipher.

  This man,
as a monster, had killed those around me. I should utterly hate him.

  But the emotions I got from him, they were not those of a monster.

  I closed my eyes, unable to deal with this right now.

  I awoke, my body heavy as I rolled over, finding I was alone in my bed.

  A glance at my phone on the bedside table revealed I’d have to be up for work soon.

  I knew where Marcus was before I even reached out to sense him.

  He’d been watching the sunrise, basking in the morning glow.

  It was like he half-expected it to suddenly change one day, that his new being would fail and it would burn his flesh once more.

  I knew better.

  He was stronger now.

  We all were.

  I dragged myself out of bed and straight into the shower, not caring that I was naked as I walked through the quiet house. Skip and Ollie were sound asleep still, not having anything on today until later. Ollie had work to do at his grandfather’s, which he’d been doing most afternoons, although I knew this past week had been a struggle, he’d not wanted to leave me on my own, but there was nothing he could do. I’d been recovering, and I wanted him doing what he loved.

  I turned the shower on, my mind going over what had occurred in my void.

  Walter.

  The wendigo.

  A part of me wanted to find amusement in his old name, but there was nothing funny about that creature now seeming to be inside me.

  I’d killed him.

  So what the hell was all this about?

  I was still coming to terms with it. Strangely, Walter looked nothing like the man who’d stalked me. That was strange, but he was also a warlock. Maybe the darker side of him that had been the wendigo had taken on its own appearance as a man.

  That made the most sense.

  ‘Allison? What’s going on about the wendigo?!’ Lucas’ panicked voice flooded into my mind.

  Guess he’d been listening in to my thoughts.

  ‘I’ll tell you after my shower,’ I sighed.

  ’Nope. I’m worried now. Tell me,’ he demanded.

  He was downstairs in the library room, having been studying.

  I groaned as I checked the temperature of the water, and I stepped under the welcoming warm spray, pretending it was washing away my worries.

  I didn’t feel in danger. No sense of dread or fear like before with the wendigo. More just confusion.

  Despite what I knew about Walter, I wasn’t afraid of him.

  Somehow, being in my void, I felt like I knew him. I could feel everything, his emotions, his feelings. I could tell if he was being truthful.

  And he had been.

  ‘Who the fuck is Walter?’ Marcus growled.

  Great. Now they were both delving into my mind, trying to dredge up the memories of the void.

  They couldn’t see in it, but they could see my memories of it once I was out.

  ‘He’s a warlock, my father did say the wendigo was a warlock,’ Lucas murmured, but his tone was not impressed. He was beyond freaked out by this and stressed.

  Not that I blamed him. I did have someone living inside me.

  It was fucking weird.

  ‘I’m calling my father. You’re calling in sick to work,’ Lucas stated.

  ‘How is he in your void? You killed him?’ Marcus was shocked to say the least.

  I gasped as the bathroom door was flung open, and then I found Marcus standing at the shower, holding the door open as he stared hard at me.

  “Please, just let me shower,” I groaned, but I could understand his distress.

  The fear and uncertainty in his eyes was also rolling off him in waves. This development terrified him.

  I should be more worried too probably.

  “We need to figure this out. Now. He’s dangerous!” Marcus stated as he reached for me.

  The next thing I knew, I was bundled up in a towel and perched on his lap in the living room like a cocooned baby.

  I couldn’t even be mad, he’d wrapped me up so well.

  Lucas joined us instantly, gliding over with a stressed look as he waved his purple glowing hand over my head and chest.

  “How’d he get in there, you killed him,” Lucas whispered as his eyes glowed ever so softly.

  “How should I know, I just found him there,” I muttered. I didn’t have all the answers.

  Much to my dismay.

  “We need to get him out. He’ll hurt her,” Marcus hissed through gritted teeth, his arms tightening around me.

  I could feel them both probing my mind mentally.

  But they couldn’t access my void. The only time was when I’d brought them into it for the bonding session.

  “I can’t feel any disturbances in you, but I also can’t feel inside the void,” Lucas sighed as he sat back on the coffee table, clasping his hands and holding them against his mouth in concern.

  “I don’t think he even knew what he was,” I murmured, remembering that sense of agony and pain that had taken my breath away.

  “Doesn’t alter the fact,” Marcus stated.

  “I know. But he was a healer,” I said.

  Minutes ticked by as we all just stared at one another in confusion and worry.

  I didn’t even flinch this time when the portal opened up right by us and Mr Brady stepped through. He was wearing a grey suit today, nothing like the deep purple one that Lucas was sporting.

  He stepped towards me instantly, holding his own glowing hand over my head.

  “How peculiar. I spoke briefly with Miss O’Donnell before coming over here. She’s never heard of such a thing,” he mused, those dull ocean blue eyes scrutinizing me. His greying hair was not slicked back today, instead it was styled to the side, and his salt and pepper beard was neatly trimmed.

  The wrinkles at the edges of his eyes seemed to amplify more as he stared at me, and I suddenly remembered I was in nothing but a towel cocoon.

  “Can you fix it?” Lucas asked, the question coming out harsher than intended.

  Mr Brady didn’t seem to care though as his brow furrowed.

  “I did some examinations on the skull, and I learned just who the warlock was,” he stated as he straightened, still looking quite perplexed.

  “Walter Murphy,” I said instantly, and he nodded.

  “Yes, and what I’ve gathered from the research I’ve been doing lately, is that Mr Murphy did not choose to become a wendigo. I was still digging through my research, not wanting to inform you all of anything until I had all the facts. But with this unique… situation, I figured I’d share everything I know now. His father was put down in the late 1800s for practicing necromancy. It was believed he was also controlling a wendigo, enhancing its power. It was untraceable, practically unstoppable with the assistance of his magic. Rumors went around that the wendigo was actually his son, one Walter Murphy, a doctor and healer of his time. Many deemed him a miracle worker. This does correlate with the reports of his work suddenly ending around the time Mr Murphy Senior began wielding a powerful wendigo to do his bidding. I was still uncovering details on what became of the wendigo, but it seems we have our answers. That it was, indeed, Walter Murphy,” Mr Brady sighed.

  “So he wasn’t the bad guy, still, how do we get him out of her void?” Lucas asked, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently.

  I’d never seen him so on edge before. He was normally so laid back and calm.

  But perhaps Walter being a warlock was what was making him more stressed.

  One little peek in his mind revealed as such. They didn’t know the extent of his powers, what his specialties had been.

  “Allison, have you taken others into your void before?” Mr Brady asked as he glanced at his son, still perched on the coffee table.

  “Yes,” I nodded, grateful that the seriousness of the situation stopped the blood from rushing to my cheeks.

  “Can you take someone in again?” he clarified.

  I frowned as I shifted in Marcu
s’ grip. Maybe.

  “I can try,” I said honestly.

  “Well, see if you can take me in there,” he said, as if it was so simple.

  I didn’t even know how the others had joined me in there, it had just happened.

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” Lucas asked quickly.

  “Better than doing nothing. I’ll be fine, trust me,” Mr Brady gave his son a reassuring smile.

  I felt Lucas’ shock at the simple gesture.

  His father hadn’t smiled at him in a long time.

  I wanted to reach out and take Lucas’ hand, to show him how much he was loved. He was just staring at his father in the strangest way.

  Mr Brady sat down on the lounge beside Marcus and I, offering me his hand tentatively.

  I had no idea what I was doing, but I took his soft, smooth hand in mine, feeling his warlock magic brimming beneath the surface.

  I drew in a steadying breath. Here goes nothing.

  I allowed myself to slip into the void, willing Mr Brady along with me.

  I allowed my banshee side to take the reins, watching like an outsider as his own eyes flooded black.

  And then we were standing in the void, darkness all around us as I held his hand.

  At least I’d appeared with a blue dress on.

  “Is he here?” Mr Brady asked softly, glancing around the void in fascination.

  “Yes,” I nodded. I could feel Walter in the darkness. He wanted to hide, to cower away and wallow still. I could feel his sadness once more, but I pushed it down. The void was my personal haven, I didn’t need emotions being forced on me.

  I reached out with my banshee, finding his strange spirit-like being hiding in the corner of my void.

  I drew him forth, forcing him to materialize before us.

  Mr Brady was taken by surprise at this, but I wouldn’t have known if my void wasn’t so in-tuned with all emotions within it, revealing even Mr Brady’s uncertainty despite his strong face.

  “Walter Murphy?” Mr Brady started, causing Walter to sigh as he stood up from where he was kneeling. He straightened his top hat as he gave Mr Brady a strange look before eyeing me.

  “That’s me,” he nodded.

  “Forgive my intrusion. I’m a good friend of Allison here, and I needed to better understand just what it is that’s going on here,” Mr Brady began.