Chapter 7 Arwyn #2
I was watching some sort of news channel, the symbol up in the top left corner.
At the bottom of the screen, bold words moved across a red banner, offering those who watched updates.
It was hard to catch up with the words, considering my focus was on the images flashing over the screen.
But the woman who stood beside my chair began reciting them, as if she could read my mind.
“Unnatural attacks began outside the Tower of London. Multiple deceased confirmed. Prime minister has called for military backup. London under lockdown. What dark secrets have been hiding in plain sight?… Witches terrorise London.” She paused, sucking in a dramatic breath.
“Witches, Arwyn. Can you believe it?” Her question was followed by the sickest laugh, the sound grating through my nerves.
“Of course you can. We know all about the demons, and now every human across the world will. Look… do you see there…”
Her red nail pointed towards something unfurling on the screen. Amidst the smoke and destruction, a single man stood. Winds danced around him, brushing the hair off his ash-smothered face. A face I knew all too well.
“Hector,” I breathed, heart beating a canter in my chest.
Blood coated the side of his head, so dark his blonde hair was matted black. He was wounded and badly. But he was alive, and that counted for something.
The camera continued to pan around, showing many humans who were not so lucky.
The screen flashed to another perspective, this one filmed on someone’s phone.
Hector went head-to-head with two people.
He thrust his hands up towards them, a gust of unnaturally conjured winds ripping one of them from their feet and sending them careening up into a stone wall where their bodies popped in the force, splattering the wall in gore.
Such a simple act, which resulted in death.
I couldn’t believe I was watching Hector do this…
but then my perspective changed when the second of his victims lifted a hand up in a similar gesture.
The person filming panned the camera up in time to watch a helicopter wobble awkwardly in the sky. Then, like a stone dropped into a lake, it fell. No, it was being dragged down by the person Hector was fighting against.
Another witch? He was fighting his own kind. But something in that didn’t sit right.
“No, Arwyn, Hector is not going against his fellow witches,” the woman said, taking my thoughts out of my mind once again, and answering me.
“Although, if that is your first thought on what you are watching, then I can only say I’m glad.
Because that means everyone else watching this right now will think the very same.
Witches against witches. When in fact, you see that one who is about to drop an entire helicopter on top of the man you clearly are infatuated with…
well, he is one of ours. A Witch Hunter who was given a Gift by you… don’t you remember?”
Everything in me, and around me, went deadly still.
“This, in a strange, twisted way, is all of your doing,” she whispered into my ear.
Guilt came thick and fast. It almost knocked me off the chair as I tried to picture that Witch Hunter’s face amongst the handful who I’d used Bahmet’s powers to give Gifts.
It was simple at the time, like offering a blessing.
Bahmet seemed to know what he was doing, and I was merely an instrument in his control.
That was when I started taking thistlebane, to make sure I could never give a Witch Hunter access to supernatural powers like I had with the first batch.
This was what my father intended to use them for.
I ripped my eyes off the television, unable to see what became of Hector as an automated message took over the screen.
I focused on the woman, picturing my father and every other Witch Hunter spearing their poison across the world whilst I was tied to a chair, powerless to change the course of fate.
“If Hector dies, I will destroy everything you have ever loved,” I snapped.
I found that her eyes were glowing a brilliant emerald glow. She was an earth-witch, which only proved that her power was something to do with reading minds. In a sense, I felt mental fingers rummaging through my mind.
“Don’t blame me,” she replied. “This is all your own doing.”
Another sharp pain hit my chest, like the thrust of a blade directly into my heart.
“How can you sit by and let him do this?” I asked. “You’re a witch…”
It wasn’t new for my father to work alongside the very people he hated. After all, he was close enough to Jonathan Bailey, the acting Grand High, before I took the mantle and Hector killed him.
“I am indeed,” she answered me. “There was a time when I once hated my Gift, but in time I found that it was such a handy little trick. You see, no one can hide anything from me. Not even you. Now, please don’t go around throwing out promises you cannot keep, Arwyn.
I appreciate you are trying to frighten me, but you look a little silly strapped to a chair.
I’m as unconvinced as you are about yourself. ”
I filled my mind with images of all the very hateful and evil things I could do, if only given the chance. And I knew it hit its mark, because the woman faltered back a step, as if struck by a bolt of my undiluted hateful emotion.
Her eyes ceased glowing, telling me she had severed access to her power.
It was a small battle to win, but I won and that was all that mattered.
“You see now that I mean everything I say too,” I growled. “If a hair is harmed on Hector’s head, you’ll face agony unlike anything you’ve ever imagined.”
She spun on me, viper fast, gripping my jaw with a surprisingly strong hand.
Nail scratched at my skin, but I didn’t care much for the pain considering I’d not long been shot multiple times and still survived.
Bahmet, after all, needed me. “Listen carefully, Arwyn. If you think for a second you will come out victorious in this story, you can think again. The witches will fall, they will become hunted by humans around the world. Pyres will be built en masse, and bodies will burn. And we, those who wish to bring forth a cleansed world, will stand by and enjoy the heat of our success.”
“Are you forgetting you are a witch too?” I asked, spittle flying beyond cracked lips. “How long until my father turns his attention to you, sets you up on the very pyres you sing about?”
Her fury cracked, revealing the laughing hyena beneath her skin. “I can see why that may concern you, but I can assure you that nothing of the sort is ever going to happen. Your father… well, he needs me.”
I wondered if she heard just how unconvinced she sounded.
“I understand your view of this is warped, but family is very important to him,” she continued.
“More so than anything else. You see, I’m not going anywhere, and the same goes for you.
” She released her grip of my jaw, and suddenly her touch became gentle, her gaze not wavering from my eyes. “You look so much like her, you know.”
To my surprise, tears filled her eyes, making the natural colour glow. “Who?”
“Your mother,” she exhaled in a moment of weakness. “My sister.”
As sudden as her moment of softness came, it left.
She withdrew her hand so quickly it was as if she was burned.
“Would you like me to leave the television on for you, so you can carry on watching all our hard work unfold? Or would you prefer to sit in silence for a while, contemplating how important your cooperation will be going forwards?”
I couldn’t answer her question, because I was completely stuck on what she’d revealed before. “You’re my… aunt?”
The nameless woman looked over my shoulder, eyes reflecting her sorrow whereas the rest of her face and posture was as stiff as a board. “I think you know the answer to that.”
“Why have I never met you before?” I shouted, grappling with my need of family, even if this woman clearly hated me. “Why… how can you sit back and let this happen?”
“I have my reasonings.”
I wanted to shout that I wouldn’t have been alone. I wanted to scream at her, demand why she would let her sister’s child face so much hate. Instead, I found myself unable to speak.
“Enjoy the show, Arwyn,” she said, shaking off her emotion before becoming the hard-shelled person who I’d first met. “I will leave the guards outside. When you are ready to be collected and taken back to your rooms”
“Wait!” I screamed, questions filling my head, pressing out against my skull and yet incapable of reaching my tongue. “What’s going to happen next?”
Her smile, as forced as it seemed, sent a shiver down my spine. “Tomin will round up every witch he can get his hands on and ensure they meet their justified ends by dawn tomorrow.”
It was what I was expecting her to say, but that still didn’t take away from the sting. “That’s barbaric. Regardless of what is being shown to the public, there are procedures for crime in the human world. The prime minister will never agree to mass executions.”
“Actually, he already has. You see, Tomin is on the way to meet with him now. The prime minister was so pleased to hear from Tomin regarding tomorrow’s planned attack, and is keen to know everything there is to know about witch-kind.
Your father will be the one to do that. As you can imagine, there is no prison that can keep witches locked in, not with access to magic.
Death is the only answer, history has proven that to us. ”
It was the historic burning of innocent witches that had turned them to demonic entities in the first place, but I didn’t have the time to waste in saying that. She likely already knew.
“You can’t do this,” I spat.