A Supernatural Secret in Faerywood Falls

by Blythe Baker

  “And I appreciate that, so much,” I said, and I meant it. “It’s just…there’s no guarantee, you know?”

  Bliss nodded, though she looked disappointed.

  “But that Isabella Delvin’s ghost can tell me something. She knew my mother. She said I looked like her. That’s the most I’ve ever heard from anyone,” I said. “And…Bliss, I just want to know. There’s so much about myself that I just…don’t understand. I don’t know if I ever will. But if I can get just a little more information, maybe try to learn something – ”

  “I do understand,” Bliss said. “I’m just…worried about you, is all. I don’t want this to become an obsession or something like that.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “But really, thank you for all your help in getting me here. I’m sure that it will prove useful.”

  I glanced down at the book in my arms.

  “So…this book,” I said. “Did you call it a grimoire?”

  Bliss nodded. “Yeah. That’s the technical name for a book of spells. That’s what this is, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said. “Only…none of it makes any sense to me.”

  A group of spell weavers made their way onto the path behind us, talking animatedly. But they were too close for us to continue discussing what we were.

  “We’ll have to look at it later,” Bliss said, dropping her voice. “Unless…are you giving her the book back now?”

  I shook my head. “That wouldn’t make it a very good bargaining chip, would it?”

  We remained quiet as we walked toward the doors, the ladies behind us chatting happily about their lunch.

  Are you really going to be able to part with that book now that you’ve got it back? Athena asked me.

  I glanced down at her. I don’t know, I said. Maybe we could read as much of it as we can before giving it back?

  If I remember correctly, that book was almost impossible to read, Athena said. What makes you think it’s going to be any different now?

  I didn’t know, and that was the frustrating part.

  We walked into the council hall building and wandered toward the tall, purple doors that we’d been standing outside of earlier. Everything was still in session, it seemed. When Bliss asked one of the other mentors who walked by, she informed us that the meeting could go on for the next several hours.

  “What could they be talking about in there?” I asked.

  “I have no idea,” Bliss said. “The council is very private. Most of the time, they keep to themselves, and they don’t want us to know what’s going on.”

  I frowned. “Well…I guess we’ll just have to wait then.”

  We didn’t have to wait as long as we thought. We wiled away the time by discussing Delilah’s house – without saying her name out loud, of course – and how she’d come to have such a nice place. And Bliss began to tell me more and more about the Hollow, and how things worked.

  “You’ll probably start simple, with basics,” Bliss said. “Easy spells like Zara tested you with. You’ll have to memorize them and perform them until you’re comfortable. Then you’ll probably join a class with other beginners. Don’t freak out when you see that most of those kids will be half your age or younger…”

  I frowned at the image of myself sitting at a desk that was too small for me, my knees all bent up against it, surrounded by a dozen or so children under ten years old.

  “After you graduate that class, which will be almost immediately I’m sure, you’ll move up to Class One. From there, you’ll move to Class Two, and so on, all the way to Class Nine, where I am right now. After that is Class Ten, which is basically the equivalent of a senior thesis level class in college,” she said. “Once you pass that, there is a huge ceremony held in your honor, and you’re made an official spell weaver. You get to sing your own wand from the tree growing in the enchanted gorge a few miles away, and you’re fitted with your own robes and hat.” She grinned at me. “All the myths the humans know about weavers have to come from somewhere, right?” She winked.

  “It seems so complicated,” I said.

  “Think of it this way,” Bliss said. “It’s definitely more based on your learning curve than time spent in each class. Does that make sense? Each class focuses on a different kind of magic. Once they feel you have a good enough hold on it, they send you off to the next one. While there are some people that breeze through one class, others will struggle and have to spend a long time there.” She frowned. “Like me. I’ve been stuck in Class Nine for almost three years now. It’s the hardest stuff to learn, but I’m just not that great at some of the more complex things.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  But before Bliss could ever tell me, the silver bells hanging beside the doors to the council hall began to ring, and the doors swung inward.

  “They must be done for the day,” Bliss said, getting to her feet. “You ready?”

  “Yep,” I said, following suit.

  We watched as some of the council of eleven walked out, their pale blue robes a lovely color in the big hall, like little bits of cloud in a vast sky.

  Delilah was among them.

  “Lady Delilah?” I asked, raising my voice, and waving to her over the heads of some of the other spell weavers walking down the hall.

  She turned at my voice, and stared darkly at me. Glancing to either side, she headed toward Bliss and me.

  “What do you want?” she asked in a low hiss, her eyes like shards of glass as they glared at me.

  Then her eyes fell on the book in my hands. They widened, recognition filling her face, and her gaze slowly turned up to bore into my own.

  “Where did you – how did you – ” she said. The fire in her eyes returned. “Give that back, you little piece of – ”

  “You wouldn’t attack a brand new apprentice, would you?” I asked as sweetly and as innocently as I could.

  That comment drew looks from a few of the spell weavers who were walking past. Their hard gazes fell on Delilah, and it was clear they were watching her and her next actions closely.

  Delilah seemed to shudder with the effort, but she forced a smile on her face. “No, not at all,” she said in a sickly sweet tone. “I’m just curious…where did you find my grimoire?”

  “You mean my grimoire,” I said. “The one your sister stole from me – ”

  “It wasn’t yours,” she hissed, her smile becoming more twisted. “It belonged to Mr. Cromwell. You only wanted it after you’d seen how much my sister wanted it.”

  Guilt was starting to churn in my stomach. I really hated being like this, being nasty to get my own way. Even if the book wasn’t exactly mine, it wasn’t Silvia’s either. And she’d had no right to break in and steal it.

  “So this is your plan, huh?” Delilah asked, folding her arms. “Corner me out here in public like this, with even more blackmail, to get me to wake up a spirit for you?”

  She wasn’t exactly trying to keep her voice down. If she made it seem like I was the one who had bad intentions…

  “No,” I said. “I came to make you a deal.”

  Delilah briefly looked over her shoulder, ensuring that no one was actually close enough to listen to us. “I can’t believe I’m even – fine, okay, fine. What is your deal?”

  “I will give you the book back…as long as you help me to wake a ghost that was already put to rest,” I said. It wasn’t important she knew that I’d been the one to put the ghost to rest in the first place…because I wouldn’t be able to explain why I couldn’t just do it again without also admitting that I had given back the gift. I didn’t know if that meant Delilah would know I was a faery straight away, but…

  “Yes, I know, we’ve been over this…” Delilah said. Her eyes darted back down to the book; she was having a hard time keeping her gaze off it. She sighed heavily. “Who did you want to wake up?” she asked.

  “So you agree?” I asked.

  She groaned, throwing her head back. “Yes, fine,”
she said. “But if you don’t keep your word…let’s just say that it won’t bother me too much to bring back some of my buried talents…talents that will make sure you won’t be able to be woken from the grave.”

  7

  “So do you think she’ll actually show up tomorrow night?” Bliss asked as she, Athena, and I started making our way back toward the cave where the portals were located.

  I sighed, staring around at the beauty that was the Hollow. Everything in me wished that my life was simpler, that I was only a simple spell weaver, with a whole life of learning and excitement ahead of me. How wonderful it would have been if I could have just focused on that…and not had to go through all the horrible things I’d seen since moving to Faerywood Falls.

  “I don’t know,” I said, moving the heavy book from one arm to the other. There was no way I was going to let it out of my sight. “Obviously I hope she will, but I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her.”

  “She wants that book bad enough, I think,” Bliss said.

  I could see that she was still disappointed in the way I had acted today.

  “Hey…” I said. “I’m sorry. To both of you,” I added, looking down at Athena. “I realize I was a little…harsh today, but I hope you both know that I’m not upset with either of you, and am very grateful for all your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” Bliss said. “I just wish there had been a different way.”

  As do I, Athena said. But I understand that sometimes we need to ask for help…even if it is from unsavory sources.

  “Exactly,” I said. “I didn’t like having to ask Delilah, either. But if she’s the only one who can help me…”

  “I just hope it’s worth it in the end,” Bliss said as we walked through the mouth of the cave, and back into the huge space, lit with glowing hunks of crystal.

  We found the portal leading back to Bliss’s bedroom, and Bliss stepped through just like she was walking through a normal doorway.

  It was still strange to me, to have my heartstrings pulled as I stepped through, but when I opened my eyes, I was standing back in Bliss’s bedroom.

  “I should go let Mom know we’re home,” Bliss said, pulling her tunic over the top of her head, revealing her favorite band t-shirt that she’d been wearing before. She threw it on the floor near her closet before dashing out of the room and down the hall.

  I slumped onto her bed, suddenly exhausted.

  Athena hopped up beside me, and licked my cheek with her long, warm tongue. Are you alright? She asked.

  “I think so…” I said. I glanced at her. “That was…I still can’t believe we did that. Actually went to the Hollow.”

  Not to mention got accepted as an apprentice spell weaver, Athena said, nudging my arm with her snout. That’s something to be quite proud of.

  I smiled. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it? I never would have imagined anything like that would happen. It was absolutely beautiful…despite Delilah’s weirdness.”

  A lot happened, didn’t it? Athena asked. No wonder you’re so tired. I’m rather tired myself.

  I glanced over at her. “We should get home and rest. Not much to do before tomorrow, you know?” I frowned. “Also, I don’t know if we can communicate with our thoughts again on this side of the portal.”

  Go ahead and try, Athena said.

  I focused with as much effort as I could, and looked straight into her eyes. Can you hear me?

  Athena blinked. I think I detected something. It was like a whisper. I guess we’ll just have to keep practicing. There isn’t nearly as much magic in the air here.

  I sighed, sitting up, but all my limbs felt like they were made of cement.

  I glanced at the book that I’d set down on the end of the bed, and pulled it toward me.

  I hadn’t taken a good look at it since we’d found it, but it felt good to have it back in my possession. It was amazing that it had been so long since I had it in the first place. I’d been looking for it and hoping to find it for almost as long as I’d lived here.

  I brushed my fingers across the faded red leather.

  “Well, at least we know where this book came from,” I said. “Before it wound up in the antique store, it belonged to the Blackburn family, remember? I wonder if Cain would want it back.”

  You’re thinking about giving it away, just after you’ve gotten it back? Athena asked, the very tip of her tail twitching. Besides, didn’t you promise Delilah you’d give it to her?

  I pursed my lips. “Yeah…I guess.”

  Opening the front cover, I found the same sort of strange arrangement of rows and columns of letters. They shifted and changed right before my eyes, as if someone was writing new letters with a fluid hand and fresh ink.

  “Mom wants to know if you’re gonna stay for din – hey, no fair, I want to see,” Bliss said, popping back into her room.

  She came and sat on the bed, and I scooted over to make room for her.

  “Wow…” she said. “I haven’t ever seen a grimoire like this.”

  “Why is this the first time I’m hearing that word?” I asked.

  “Sorry,” Bliss said. “I got corrected a few weeks ago in class. My teacher said that I needed to start calling the spell books by what they really were, since they were so special and all. Now…Oh, this is interesting,” she said.

  “What’s interesting?” I asked. “Can you make any sense of this?”

  “A little. I can read a spell I recognize here,” she said, tracing a column from top to bottom on the right side of the page. “And here, too.” She pointed to a row near the bottom. “Can you read any of it?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s just shifting and changing for me.”

  “The more spells you learn, the more stable the words become,” Bliss said. “Which is why these books are so dangerous. Spells that spell weavers don’t know and read in one of these books could actually be very deadly if they don’t understand what it does. These are ancient tomes, and most of the spells are forgotten…and this one is massive. I can’t imagine there are many like it left. Maybe only enough to count on one hand?”

  I flipped through the pages, and let them fall where they wanted. “I still can’t read anything,” I said.

  “That’s okay,” Bliss said. “I don’t recognize any of the spells on this page, either.” She looked up and nodded toward the door. “But we can look at this later, okay? Mom says she wants help making dinner tonight. If that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “Is it chili again?”

  Bliss grinned. “Tonight’s supposed to be so cold that chili actually sounds amazing right now.”

  After a sumptuous dinner with Aunt Candace and Bliss, with chili so hot that it made my nose run, Athena and I started home.

  “I hope Mrs. Bickford is going to be awake,” I said. “The last thing I want to do is bother her for her power at such a later hour if she’s already sleeping.

  Late was relative, of course. The later it got in the year, the earlier it became darker, and the less I saw Mrs. Bickford out taking care of the property around the cabins.

  Her lights were still on in her cabin when I pulled up, though. Athena hopped across the seat, bounced off my lap, and landed deftly on the gravelly driveway below, turning to look up at me.

  I sighed heavily, pulling the keys out of the ignition. “You ready?” I asked her.

  It won’t be any easier five minutes from now, she said.

  “I know,” I said. “I just realized that my whole plan hinges on her saying yes in the first place.”

  I pulled my jacket more tightly around me as we headed over toward her cabin, the night air chilly and strong. I slid my hands into my pocket and stared around at the inky lake.

  It was so strange being back in Faerywood Falls. It wasn’t all that long ago that I was in the Hollow, walking between those enormous blue trees. The ancient trees of the forest around here felt puny and twig-like in comparison.

  I was still h
aving a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that I’d gone through a magical portal to a different…world? Dimension? I didn’t even know. And I’d been exposed to more magic in one afternoon than I’d witnessed in my entire time living in Faerywood Falls.

  And according to Bliss, faeries were even more powerful than spell weavers. I couldn’t even contemplate that as I thought about the spell weavers seated on those crystal thrones in the council hall. They exuded power. They probably had more experience than years I’d been alive.

  What would they think of me if they found out I was a faery?

  We stepped up the front steps to Mrs. Bickford’s house, Athena keeping close, her nose pointed upward against the wind.

  I knocked on the front door and stepped back, hunching my shoulders against a strong breeze that swept across the porch.

  The door opened and Mrs. Bickford stood there in her nightgown, a fuzzy, fleece robe wrapped around her shoulders. She squinted up at me. “Marianne?” she asked, tying the robe securely around her waist. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine,” I said. “I’m sorry, I meant to get over here earlier, but I got held up at the Lodge having dinner with Bliss and Aunt Candace. Could I ask you for a favor?”

  “Sure, dear, come on in,” Mrs. Bickford said, stepping aside for Athena and me to come in.

  I’d only been in her cabin a few times, but it was clear it was well loved. Everything was in its place, and it was so comfortable, despite its small size. She had some candles burning on her coffee table and kitchen counters, and I saw an open book on the middle cushion of the couch.

  “Yes, Jim dear, don’t worry, I’ll offer,” Mrs. Bickford said, glancing toward the kitchenette. “Marianne, would you like some hot tea to take the chill off?”

  “Sure, thank you,” I said. I smiled in the direction that Mrs. Bickford glared. Her late husband, Jim, must have been standing there. I had very little interaction with him since I’d met her, but I felt as if I knew him as well as Mrs. Bickford since she was always talking with him.