Chapter Four #2
“It’s not that I wasn’t going to tell you, I just didn’t know how. Since Dad died, you work so much, and we don’t have a lot of time for important discussions.” Her face softens as she takes my hands in hers and squeezes her thumb into my palm. “You love him?”
“I do,” I say, unable to hide my smile.
She pulls me in for a hug. “He will come for supper this week.”
“Do we have a choice?” I ask with a half-smile.
Mum pats me on the cheek and walks away. Didn’t think so, better tell Myles the bad news.
The hairs on my arms stand on end before I reach the blacksmiths, the wind carries my name, whispering in my ear. An old woman watches me from the other side of the fountain. I carefully tread towards her, following her flapping cloak, but as I near, she is gone.
Shaking my head, I turn to walk away, wondering if these nightmares are making me more anxious than usual.
Scraping my nail against my fingertip, my heart jumps out of my chest as I crash into the old woman in front of me.
Her sickly-sweet perfume consumes my senses, like she sprayed half a bottle to cover the musty smell underneath.
“There’s that pretty necklace again.” Something about her is familiar, but I can’t place it. Not until she stares directly into my eyes with a strange, dark haze gathering around her, that I remember where I’ve seen her before.
That night at the solstice festival, the old woman scaring children with stories of giants and mini—whatever it was called.
The old woman takes a step towards me, and the backs of my knees press hard against the fountain.
The atmosphere around her is different, her hair unruly and matted, wearing a cloak that’s ripped and foul, smelling like curdled milk.
Like death.
“May I?” she says, reaching for my necklace. Her wrinkly, vein-covered hand scoops the necklace from my chest, eyeing it eagerly as she thumbs the gemstones. “I haven’t seen it in so long. Then there you were, wearing it right in front of me.”
“Who are you?” I ask.
She ignores my question. “Do you know where this necklace came from?”
“I told you before, my dad gave it to me.” I pull my necklace back and try to sidestep away from her, but she closes in on me again.
“That’s not what I asked.” Her eyes fog over, her voice airy and light as she says, “Black tourmaline for protection and white selenite for peace. Along with a suppression spell I attached when I fused them.”
“I’m sorry, what? What do you mean suppression spell? What are you talking about?” Confused, a million questions sweep my brain.
She cocks her head, wrenching my necklace once more.
Lowering her head, her wiry hair falls over her face, framing the sinister look in her eyes.
“Your dear old dad came to me, you couldn’t have been more than five years old.
He was worried after you started showing signs of magic.
He needed something that would protect not only you but others from you. ”
She continued, “He asked for a piece of jewellery so you wouldn’t question it and would wear it to please him.
I put together the gemstones in such a lovely setting, wouldn’t you agree?
Then cast a spell that would keep your powers at bay, so long as the necklace remained on your body.
Like a good little girl, you have done just that. ”
The necklace slams against my chest when she lets go. The same as that night at the festival, I instantly feel a hefty weight around my neck, tightening like a noose.
“Why are you telling me this? And why have I been tormented by dreams since the festival?” I snap, pulling at the necklace, trying to relieve the weight.
“Dreams?” Her eyebrows rise in confusion.
“Yes, dreams. Or more like nightmares. Ever since the solstice festival, and your stories about that… the…”
“Mimicry?”
“Yes. Ever since, I keep having these horrific nightmares. What did you do to me? If I had known you were a witch, I would have stayed clear.”
She smirks at me as she lowers her head. “I did not give you those dreams, girl. Those come from beyond, perhaps someone is trying to tell you something.”
I shake my head, pushing her away from me. I retreat into the crowd. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to be a part of whatever this is.” Turning on my heels to escape her malevolent gaze, I crash into another body.
Myles stares at me curiously. I spin around to find her, but she is nowhere to be seen. Did I imagine her? No, I could still smell the putrid scent that lingered around her and still felt the weight of my necklace digging into my chest.
Myles holds me by my shoulders. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? You’re shaking.”
He pulls me into an embrace, and I can’t find any words to explain the feeling. Why did the woman’s words linger with me? Is this where Dad got my necklace? And what was she rambling on about, a suppression spell? It’s idiotic. I didn’t have magic to suppress.
Why target me, though? Once is a coincidence, but twice? That’s suspicious.
I nestle into Myles, taking in a deep breath, drowning in his musky, charcoal scent. His body radiated warmth and comfort. Filling me with an empowering sense of safety.
“What has you spooked?”
“Nothing, I thought I saw someone, that’s all.” I half-smile; he glances out towards the square, not taking my word for it. I change the subject: “I was coming to see you. Mum wants you to come for supper, she wasn’t asking either.”
Myles screws up his face, “Uh oh, am I in trouble?”
“Only if you don’t show up. But I would wear a top,” I say, pointing to his bare chest with my eyebrows raised. “I mean, I wouldn’t object, but if you want to impress my mum, that’s maybe not the way to go.”
He tilts his head, giving me a crooked smile.
“Shirt, no trousers, got it. That will get her attention for sure.” He unbuckles his belt and lowers his leathers as he spins around, you can just see the top of his plump backside.
Turning to face me, he tuts, “Miss Kohan, were you sneaking a peek at my arse?”
I blush, directing my gaze elsewhere. I try to speak, but no words come out, just a bunch of inaudible sounds. Turning on my heels, I walk back to our stall.
Looking over my shoulder, I spy Myles giving me a wink before he walks into the blacksmiths.
The old woman steps out from around the corner, her dark eyes fixating on me. My smile fades as I pull my gaze away.
Mum and Wyatt are loading the unsold items back into the cart. “Well?” Mum asks.
“Yeah, he’ll be there.”
Mum mutters to herself about what she is going to cook, her voice drones out as I take hold of my necklace.
The old woman’s words ring in my head, ‘suppression spell,’ ‘kept it on like a good girl’, ‘protect others from me.’ I go over the conversation while we walk home, Mum and Wyatt are locked in conversation, trying to include me, but I can’t focus on them.
There’s only one way to know if the witch is lying: prove once and for all that she is just an old nutjob.
Once we arrive back at the cottage, I race to my room, staring into the mirror. I unclasp my necklace and lay it on my dresser. I stare at my reflection intensely, waiting for something, anything to happen. I laugh inwardly, fastening the chain back around my neck.
What did I think would happen? I would launch flames?