Chapter 9 #3
The only thing that really came as a surprise was that he wasn’t naked. He wore gray slacks, with a belt and a snug-fitting blue button-up shirt. He actually looked rather scholarly…in a hot monster sort of way. The only thing missing was a pair of glasses.
The yeti glanced up at their approach with surprise. “My, my, Ms. Calli. What are you doing here?” His deep voice rumbled as he stood up, and his blue eyes were soft with affection.
“Hello, Finnigan. This is Malcolm Wellesley, a friend of mine. He’s a warlock, and we need your help.”
The yeti’s gaze now moved to Malcolm, openly studying him. He sniffed the air, as though taking in Malcolm’s scent.
“Finnigan Ostroff.” He held out his hand to Malcolm.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Ostroff.” They shook hands, and Malcolm was surprised to find the creature’s palm was warm and his grip firm.
The yeti gestured for them to sit in the chairs facing his desk. “Well then, what can I help you with today?”
“We need access to a prophecy. Mayor Thornfield gave us his permission.”
“A prophecy?” Finnigan looked surprised. “You never took any interest in prophecies before.”
“It’s one my grandmother’s portrait mentioned. It was about me. It sounds important.”
“Your grandmother hated prophecies,” Finnigan noted.
“Yes, I know, but we need to see this one.” Calli exchanged a look with Malcolm before she told Finnigan about the cryptic message her grandmother had given Malcolm from the painting.
Then Malcolm repeated the words that Calli’s grandmother Celestine had said. The yeti retrieved two heavy books from the ice carved shelf and opened the first. The pages were made from old vellum paper. Malcolm could feel the magic pouring off of the pages.
“I’ll start with prophecies about Moonstone, then cross-index them against the other elements of what you told me.” He retrieved two more books and set them all down on his desk. Five minutes later, he tapped a finger on one of the pages.
“Here. It must be this one. Zelda spoke this prophecy on…” Finnigan’s voice trailed off.
“When?” Calli pressed.
“All Hallows Eve.” The yeti’s eyes darkened with emotion. “Sixteen years ago.”
“The night my parents died?” Calli’s words grew faint. Malcolm instinctively grasped her hand in his own. She leaned into him as he wrapped his other arm around her waist.
“I’m afraid so. The date listed is a few hours before the accident that took your parents’ lives.” He cleared his throat. “Are you quite sure you wish to see it, Ms. Calli?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she said, but her body trembled against Malcolm’s.
He didn’t want to see whatever this prophecy would reveal, but he wasn’t going to let Calli face this moment alone.
The yeti motioned for them to follow him, and he approached a flat tablet of ice that had been embedded on the top of a four foot tall crystal, which acted like a pedestal for the ice.
The yeti placed his palms on the ice tablet and closed his eyes.
The ice began to glow and Finnigan opened his eyes, removing his hand.
The image of a woman with dark hair and dark eyes appeared on the tablet like a movie screen playing out on the ice.
Malcolm guessed this must be Zelda. She stood inside Calli’s bookstore, but it had to be many years ago.
Now the shelves were in different places, and the furniture looked newer, which would make sense if this image was from the past. From the perspective of the vision, Malcolm guessed that they were seeing the vision from Celestine’s perspective as she stood behind the bookstore sales counter.
Celestine was at the counter facing Zelda, ringing up books in the register. Beyond them was a family, a warlock, a witch and a child of twelve. It was clear they were together, because the child held the hand of the warlock before she broke free and dashed around the pair of adults, giggling.
Malcolm’s heart lurched as he recognized Calli as that little girl.
She ran about the bookstore clutching a stuffed toy mummy.
She wore a large black witch hat that dropped too far down over her tiny head, ready for the festival.
She was adorable as she followed her parents around the shop, playing with her doll.
Suddenly Zelda stiffened, her hands latched onto Celestine’s arm so tight her knuckles went white. The woman’s eyes went from dark to a glowing white.
“A child of Lancashire blood will come and take what you love most…”
Celestine’s eyes widened. She tried to break the woman’s grip, but couldn’t.
“He will break all that you have left…”
“Stop it!” said Celestine. Her cry drew her daughter and son-in-law’s attention from nearby in the store.
“The magic will fail…”
She shook her arm harder, “Stop right now, Zelda!”
“…he will break her heart and the power of Moonstone will fall. All is lost. Only she—”
“That’s enough!” Celestine shook the woman’s arm free, disrupting the prophecy. The light vanished from Zelda’s eyes, and she saw Celestine’s terrified look.
“What is it? What happened?” It was clear the woman had no memory of what she’d seen.
“You’ve doomed us all, Zelda, that’s what!” Celestine hissed.
The vision vanished, and the bright glow of the ice faded away.
Calli slowly turned to look at Malcolm, fear in her eyes as she echoed the first line of the prophecy.
“A child of Lancashire blood will come…”
Malcolm’s throat tightened. She knew he was descended from Lancashire witches. The rest of the seer’s words dug into his chest with sharp, invisible claws.
He will take what you love most… He will break all that you have left… He will break her heart.
No… he couldn’t.
I would never hurt Calli.
He saw the glimmer of tears on her lashes.
What if Celestine was right? What if he had been brought here by destiny, just to hurt her?
Just to destroy Moonstone? But how? Malcolm wanted to tell himself it was just his destruction of her pumpkins and her gardens, but that hadn’t truly hurt Calli.
So what was he still yet to do that would be far worse?
He wanted to close his eyes. He didn’t want to see the fear and worry in Calli’s gaze. If he closed his eyes, he’d see her face as a child, young Calli, on the night her parents died.
He wanted to relive that first kiss they’d shared, the bliss it had given him, but every moment he’d ever had with her was now shadowed with guilt and dread for what the future would hold.
In that moment he was certain of two things: If he stayed he was going to hurt her. Hurt everyone. But if he left, he’d break his own heart.