Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Mum wants to stay, Dad wants to go, and Nan has the deciding vote.
After an hour of deliberation—aka arguing—they finally agree that we will leave.
Rather than wait for the invaders to do something else, we’ll attempt to cross the ward tonight while it’s dark and the wisps of smoke still linger. By tomorrow, it might be too late.
Dad does a quick perimeter check with a recalibrated ear charm—Nan always loses her glasses, so I made spares. I’m glad I did, as we’re lucky there are enough for everyone. Dad returns to tell us the coast is clear and the street is silent for now.
“Okay, kids, you have ten minutes to pack a bag. Make sure to re-check your ear protection charms before you go upstairs.” Mum then hustles everyone through the ward, out of her precious basement, and up the stairs.
My brothers clatter upstairs like a herd of elephants running to their room.
Already packed, I wait by the open front door, eyes on the street. The spelled fog has lifted. If the ear charms fail or anyone in my family gets caught in the spell and attempts to zombie walk out the door, I have a sleep charm in my coat pocket, ready to go.
I can tell Mum is sad and angry we are leaving from the way she’s stomping around.
It must be a bit of an anticlimax. Her pride-and-joy basement only gave shelter for a few short hours.
It’s been my brothers’ game room and storage area for years, so it isn’t a complete waste of time and money.
I do not doubt that the basement, combined with the strong ward, saved their lives.
I slump against the doorframe. If she wanted my opinion, which she doesn’t, under normal circumstances, I’d agree the basement would be a fine place to hide out.
This is not normal circumstances. Those invaders aren’t following any villain’s playbook.
They’re killing indiscriminately, and women and kids aren’t safe.
My mind instantly goes to the crawling woman, and my eyes fill with tears.
Mum might not be vocal about it, and she might pretend not to have faith in my magic, but she’s been silently cheering me on all my life, even if she spends all her spare time telling me off. I wouldn’t be the person I am without her. She’s made me strong.
Strong enough to do this.
Twenty minutes later, we pile out of the back door and into the garden, each carrying a bag with personal items that we can’t live without, some food, and a change of clothing.
One thing we have going for us is the location of this house. It’s on the edge of town. At the bottom of the sixty-foot garden running along the rotten rear fence is the humming, flashing barrier of the ward.
Dad holds his elbow out to Nan, and she smiles and gracefully accepts his help. Mum herds my brothers towards the back of the garden. They look freaked out and pale. I follow behind, my feet dragging. I’m so tired. It’s hard to navigate the paving stones and then the grass. My body will crash soon.
I can feel the ward as we march silently towards it. It makes the little hairs on my neck stand up, and goosebumps rise all over my arms. I grit my teeth and lift my feet higher. I’m determined to use every drop of energy and power to get my family out of here.
Mum keeps looking back to check that I’m okay.
Dad gingerly removes one of the wooden panels when we reach the fence and waves me over. “Are you sure about this, pumpkin? I can easily put this old panel back, and we can go back inside.”
“I’m sure.” My voice cracks a little. I hope he doesn’t notice, but I catch his wince. I take a deep breath, drift past him, and stand before the spitting, rolling ward.
This is just like I’d practised.
The magic crackles across the boundary, and sparks fly. One burns my cheek. I lock my knees. This close, I can read the magical signatures of the dozens of witches who created and now maintain the ward. It’s like a patched jigsaw puzzle.
The charm, delicate metal shaped like a bridge, sits cradled in my palm.
I can do this. I can make a hole big and safe enough for everyone to cross.
The bridge charm is excited; it can’t wait to do its job.
“Wait until I tell you to move.” I rub the bridge with my thumb, opening myself to the magic.
“No, shit,” Aleric grumbles behind me.
I close my eyes to centre myself and steady my breathing.
Okay, little charm, just like we’ve done before.
Slow and steady. The ball of power in my chest unravels.
Carefully, it slides down my arm and pools into my palm, all warm and tingly.
I feed the magic to the bridge, and its power seeps out, creeping into the air and wiggling its way into the ward.
Nothing happens.
I’m being too careful, and the ward is more substantial than usual.
I feed the charm more power, and a hole opens up.
It’s not big enough. It’s not going to work if I don’t…
I sigh and do something I’ve promised never to do.
With the charm within my fist, I thrust my hand into the gap in the barrier.
Please don’t melt my hand off.
The direct contact with the charm sends a magic pulse, and I shove out more power—more than I’ve ever used before.
The ward parts.
The gap is so wide that I can see the other side, a field, a copse of trees, and a road beyond. The real world looks safe and quiet. I grit my teeth. Using this amount of magic is painful, and my chest is burning.
“Okay, move.”
Dad steps through first. Once he’s on the other side, my brothers and Nan follow. I feel like I’m holding a considerable weight and, any second now, the magic will hammer me into the ground like a nail.
Mum turns when she’s on the other side and holds out her hand. “Come on, sweetheart. The ward is flickering.” Her voice is far from calm; it’s edged with panic.
“One second. I must time this right. Will you please grab my bag?” Sweat beads on my brow and my teeth chatter as I pass the bag full of spells and my mobile with her old number.
The gap is beginning to close.
Mum takes them, drops the bag at her feet and holds out her hand once again. “Kricket, come on now.”
“The charms in the bag are worth a lot of money. There’s a datapad with the full inventory and their retail prices,” I say through my teeth as my entire body shakes from the strain.
“The funny thing is nobody can do what I can, which makes my spells luxuries people are willing to pay a fortune for.”
Mum’s eyes widen as she realises what’s happening. “Kricket, don’t you dare.” Her hand shakes as she points to the floor. “Come here right now. This isn’t a game. This is not funny.”
“I’m the bridge, Mum. The gap in the ward won’t work if I don’t hold it open. Banking details and an address for the new house are in the bag. It’s in a lovely town and owned outright. It’s also fully furnished.” I groan and drop to my knees.
“Kricket!”
“Don’t be in a rush to sell the spells. They’re in high demand, so get the right price.
” The gap in the ward is almost gone. Dad wraps his arms around Mum’s waist to stop her from getting closer to the angry, sparking ward.
“I love you all so very much. Please remember I didn’t have a choice.
The bridge charm wouldn’t work if I weren’t on this side holding it steady.
Be safe. Be happy, and I’ll see you very soon. ”
“No.” Mum moans.
Everyone is crying.
A tear rolls down the side of my nose. “Ring Ava, and she’ll send a car to come and get you. Get the word out about what’s happening here. I’ll do my best—”
The barrier snaps closed, and the poor little charm in my hand is silent. Dead. All its power has gone, and it’ll take days to recharge.
“—to save as many as I can.” I’m talking to thin air, but it’s something I need to say.
Even if I’m the only one to hear my words.
Exhausted, it takes three attempts to get to my feet. I turn and stumble back to the house. I need to get clean and changed. My clothing wasn’t in the bag I handed to Mum; I’d hidden it before we came outside.
I have no plan and no idea what I’ll do now that I’ve got my family out. I should feel elated that they’re safe, but my only emotion is fear.
I guess I’ll see what the invaders are up to.