Chapter 17 #2
“Here we go.” Riley sets three mugs on the table and then leaves the room, coming back a moment later with something wrapped in a faded, musty-smelling cloth.
She places it between us and takes a seat, then picks up her mug and sips her tea.
“Is this the book you found?” Sam points to the object. When she nods, he asks, “May I?”
She nods again, and he unwraps the material, revealing a thick leatherbound journal with a symbol branded in the centre of the front cover. It’s an ankh, the symbol of eternal life, only the top hook is depicted as a serpent looping over and then coiling around the body of the symbol.
Sam presses his hand to the cover. “This journal belonged to the man without the mask, the one standing in the doorway of the other room. His name was Simon,” Sam says, then opens the journal. There on the first page in an elegant, curly script, are the initials S.M.
“Simon Maycliffe,” I murmur.
“How did you know that?” Riley asks Sam, her brows furrowed.
“I’m able to get images and impressions from some objects I touch,” he explains as he begins to turn the dry crackling pages. “Mr Hadley said you found this when you began your renovation?”
“I didn’t just find it,” she admits quietly. “I knew exactly where it was.” She glances between me and Sam as we wait patiently for her to continue. “Strange dreams, started the night I moved in. But…”
“But?”
“After a while, I started seeing them while I was awake. Then I started seeing those echoes, if that’s what you want to call them.”
I lean forward in interest. “Tell me about these dreams.”
“They’re chaotic, there’s no order to them.
Sometimes I see an old man, sometimes a woman carrying a small boy out of the house.
I’ve also seen the man in the doorway, Simon.
He’s in the room that was originally a study.
There’s a man in there with him, but I can never see his face, it’s like he’s always standing in shadow.
They’re trying to find the boy, the one the woman took away. ”
“Tobias?” I blink in surprise.
“How did you know his name?” Riley says sharply.
“Because I have dreams too.”
“Do you know what happened to him?” She reaches out and grasps my arm. “Tobias?”
I shake my head. “Not beyond that night. I know the woman took him to her brother because she knew he’d be safe, but nothing after that. Why?”
“Because the man in the study and the man in shadows, they wanted the boy. Badly. They were furious he had been taken from the house and tore London apart trying to find him, but it wasn’t out of concern for a missing child. They wanted him for a very specific reason.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she says, and I can see the worry etched into her face even though these events transpired over a century and a half ago. “All I can say is that he was somehow important to them.”
“How much do you know about the Maycliffes?” Sam asks.
Riley shrugs. “Not much at all. My father died when I was really young, and the house came down to me through his side. From what Mr Hadley told me, the previous owner of the house was a second or third cousin of my father. Honestly, this house was supposed to be a dream come true for me, but it’s turning into a nightmare. ”
“I can imagine.”
“The property dropped into my lap right when I needed a fresh start. I’ve always wanted to renovate my own house, so I packed up and moved to London.”
“A fresh start?”
“I broke up with my boyfriend,” she murmured as she toyed with the handle of her mug.
“He…he didn’t cope well with my transition.
He wanted a boyfriend not a girlfriend.” She looks up at us.
“He’s not a bad guy. He just—” She blows out a frustrated breath.
“He didn’t want things to change, and I couldn’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. ”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
“What about your family? Are they local?” Sam sips his tea, his expression filled with understanding.
She shakes her head. “My mum and stepdad are great, they were so good about everything, but they moved to Spain a couple of years ago. They’re currently living their best life in a little apartment complex in Torremolinos.
I haven’t had a chance to make new friends in London yet, so I don’t have anywhere else to go right now. ”
“You know you don’t have to stay here, Riley. You can come with us and we’ll help you find somewhere to stay. Then you can talk to Mr Hadley about selling the house.” I reach out and squeeze her hand.
She considers my words for several long moments before finally sighing and shaking her head. “Tempting, but no. A house like this? In this location? It’s more than likely it’d be sold to a family with children, and I don’t like the thought of anyone else having to deal with all of this.”
“But chances are they wouldn’t be able to see the things you do,” I reply.
“What do you mean?” She frowns.
“Riley, you’re gifted.” I give a small laugh. “I’m sure it doesn’t seem like it at the moment, but not everyone can do what you can. The dreams, the waking visions, being able to see echoes. You have a preternatural ability.”
“I didn’t have it before I moved to London. Do you think it would disappear, that my life would go back to normal if I left?”
“Unfortunately, it’s not refundable,” Sam says. “And once it wakes up, you can’t switch it off. You can only learn how to control it so it doesn’t impact your life too much.”
“Great,” she huffs. “But I still can’t leave this house. I know it sounds crazy, and any sane person would be straight out the door, but I feel like…like it’s my responsibility to fix this, fix it. I know, it makes no sense.”
“Actually, it does,” I tell her gently. “You’re tied to this place by blood and by magic. It’s calling to you.”
“Magic.” She chews her lip. “You believe in all that?”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Sam mutters, and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.
“It’s just…” She hesitates.
“You can tell us anything,” Sam reassures her. “We’re here to help you.”
“The dreams and stuff aren’t the only things that changed when I moved in here. There’s something else.”
She swallows, then lifts her hand and stares at my mug of tea on the table. For a second, nothing happens, then the mug jerks into motion and skids across the table towards her outstretched palm, spilling tea in its wake.
Sam blinks. “You did that?”
She nods slowly.
“Telekinesis,” I mutter. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
She blows out a breath. “That’s the first time I’ve done that in front of anyone. For a second, I wasn’t sure if it would work or if this was all in my head.”
“It’s definitely not in your head.”
“Do you think…”
“What?” I ask.
“Do you think it makes me a freak? That I can do all this weird shit?”
I smile at her and lift my own hand, watching her eyes widen as my palm erupts into the warm red and gold flames of Earthfire. Then the colour shifts into a deep lavender.
“What the hell is that?” she gasps.
“Witchfire.” Her gaze snaps to mine, and I nod. “I’m a witch. The real deal. And you already saw some of Sam’s supernatural abilities. I know this is all new and a bit scary, but you need to know you’re not alone.”
“That’s so cool.” She smiles as she watches the flames dancing in my palm.
Suddenly, the flames start to sputter, and tiny little bursts of sparks shower across the table.
I suck in a sharp breath as a rush of power surges up my arm and through my body.
The fire I’m holding erupts, turning into a bright green, then the flames funnel up to the ceiling and spread outwards, swirling like an oceanic whirlpool.
I’m vaguely aware that both Sam and Riley have leapt out of their seats, stumbling back from the fire.
“Harrison!” Sam shouts, but I can’t respond. It’s taking all I have to keep the flames under control, my breath coming fast and uneven.
I’ve never conjured power like this before. It’s vast and ancient, but it’s also wild and unpredictable. This is what I imagine it would be like trying to ride a dragon’s tail.
A cry tears from my mouth as I reach out and try to pull the magic back, but it doesn’t want to give up its grip.
Suddenly, I feel a pair of arms around me, grounding me and holding on tight.
Sam.
I close my eyes and hold onto the presence of him, using him as my rock. My tether. With both hands, I yank the fire back and absorb it into my palms. When it finally dissipates, I’m drenched in sweat, panting hard and shaking so badly that Sam tightens his grip on me.
“What the hell was that, Prickles?” He exhales heavily.
I stare at my palms, where my blood vessels show traces of green fading away.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
But even as the words leave my lips, I hear a dry whisper at the back of my mind.
Demonfire.