Freya woke with a start at a knock on the door. It took her a moment to remember she’d stayed over at Ali’s house.
‘Frey, are you awake? I’ve made you some breakfast and a cuppa.’ Ali’s gentle voice came through the door.
‘Yes,’ Freya cleared her croaky voice, ‘thanks Ali. I will be out in a minute. You’re a legend.’
‘No worries. Just to warn you Alex is outside so don’t go parading around in just your pants like you normally do.’ Ali couldn’t hold back a giggle.
Freya smiled and blushed when she heard the distinctly male voice of Alex say not very quietly ‘that he didn’t mind.’
Oh God. She honestly thought she was done with men after finally leaving Stuart. He had not taken it well and she had vowed to stay clear of the male of the species for at least 20 years, until she felt ready to trust someone again. She threw off the covers and gently swung her legs over the side of the bed and checked how her injuries were doing. Her backside was fine, her ankle felt better but she knew she would have to be careful, especially getting on and off the boat which was treacherous on the best of days. She pulled off the plaster where the pin had pierced her and could barely see the mark. She’d always been a fast healer though.
She took a moment to glance around Alex’s room, envious of the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Alex had always been a bookworm and had received some stick for it at school but Alex was just one of those people who would just shrug it off, even the hardened bullies at school used to leave him alone. He had that air about him. Focused on going to university and pursuing his career as an architect and this was evident by his selection of reading matter.
‘It’s ready,’ Ali called, ‘and Alex needs to get in his bedroom because he needs his to get one of his reference books, I think it’s one of the porn ones under…’ Ali didn’t finish and Freya smiled as she heard the laughter and clearly Alex now had his hand over his sister’s mouth. This was one of the reasons for not getting involved with Alex, they were her family since her sister died and she couldn’t stand the thought of that changing.
She pulled on her faded jeans, baggy blue jumper and chunky socks and stuffed her Pjs into her rucksack. As she walked to the door she tied up her bed hair and made a pit stop in the bathroom before joining them in the kitchen.
‘Frey,’ Alex welcomed her with a hug which she could have happily stayed nestled in forever, ‘how you doing? I’ve told you before about hanging about with dead people.’ He winked as he let her go and reached for another piece of toast which was covered in a thick layer of blackcurrant jam.
Freya shook herself as she wished he had held her longer and willed herself not to blush. This was Alex, her very good friend.
‘Well, you know dead people are a lot more interesting than living people. They don’t talk back for one.’
Alex laughed as he perched on a stool at the breakfast bar and Freya slipped onto the seat next to him just as her stomach rumbled loudly.
‘Jesus, sis. Have you not fed our guest?’
‘Oh my God, was that my stomach?’ Freya exclaimed mortified.
Ali piled steaming pancakes drizzled with maple syrup onto a plate in the middle of the breakfast bar and poured a cup of coffee for Freya.
‘Listen bro, you leave my guest alone. It’s not surprising she’s not herself after baring her arse for all to see in the hospital yesterday.’
Ali just managed to get out of Freya’s reach as she picked up her cup menacingly.
‘Damn. I wish I’d offered to pick you up now.’ Alex said, reaching over and rolling a pancake up and cramming it in his mouth. He turned and smiled at Ali, the pancake bulging between his lips.
‘You,’ Ali said, pointing a spatula at him before flipped another pancake, ‘are disgusting and you wonder why you’re single?’
Freya put down her coffee and reached for a pancake letting the siblings do their usual ‘face off’. Picking her cup back up again she went to take sip she dropped the cup as she tried to hold onto the breakfast bar her whole body shaking.
‘Oh shit,’ Alex cried, grabbing her arm to keep her steady and Ali, used to kitchen disasters and her friend, grabbed the kitchen towel.
‘Sorry, Ali. I’m so sorry.’ Freya said, trying to grab the kitchen towel to help clean up as her body stopped feeling as if it was on a rollercoaster.
‘Don’t worry. It’s not a problem. Alex will still eat the pancakes. What happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ Freya said, feeling a bit shaken, ‘it was like someone walked over my grave. Scrap that, like they danced on my grave.’
‘I told you hanging around dead people was wrong,’ Alex said, as he chucked a soiled piece of towel into the bin but he sounded worried.
‘I’m just going to go and wipe my jumper.’ Freya stood up and tried not to rush to the bathroom and make them more worried than they already were. She closed the door and splashed water on her face. She hadn’t been truthful with them. She knew what had happened. She’d had a vision.
YYY
‘Did you feel that?’ Kasha said swerving the car but managing not to crash into anything. Aland whined from the back seat in between Penelope and Dominique. Drakon refused to sit in the back due to Aland looking him as if he was a tasty three course dinner.
‘Yes,’ Penelope hesitated, ‘it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. The connection was so strong I almost felt as if I was in their body.’
‘Same,’ Dominique replied, leaning forward, ‘what about you Drakon. Did you feel it?’
Drakon remained quiet.
‘Drakon?’ Kasha turned to look at him, ‘you okay?’
Drakon opened his eyes his hand rubbing the top of his cane which was rested on his knee, ‘I did. We have to be even more careful.’
Kasha snorted. Penelope was usually the most cautious witch on the planet and instilled it in them all the time. It wasn’t surprising she’d been lucky to survive the trials, she wasn’t going to risk anything but time was running out. They all felt it.
‘The Witchfinders somehow know we are getting closer to tracking them down and creating a full coven. Once we do we hold the upper hand again. They are going to do their best to stop us.’ Dominique sighed. Their coven needed this, how much longer could they try but were the strongest coven they knew. The rest had been decimated during the trials and couldn’t come back, not without help. Not without a full coven. It was up to them and they were tired. They all knew this was their last chance.
‘State the obvious,’ Drakon snapped and Aland growled, ‘oh shut up mutt before I turn you into a burger and eat you.’ Drakon turned and barred his teeth.
Penelope made herself ready but Kasha laughed, ‘Oh Drakon. Aland would snap your neck in a heartbeat just for fun. The only reason he won’t is because he knows you will taste nasty.’
Laughter came from the back seat and Drakon reclined into his seat, smiling.
‘One big happy family, that’s what I like to hear,’ Penelope said but there was genuine worry. If they were not one hundred percent together then how the hell could they pull it off?
They all sat up straight as Kasha indicated to turn left onto the lane, ‘Well, we are here. Let the games begin.’
YYY
Mary listened but there were no further sounds from outside. Maybe just one of the children messing about or a relative visiting a loved one. She often heard cries of despair when she was working in the library. She listened, hands shaking as she placed one to her chest to calm her heart.
There were no other noises, she hadn’t been discovered but she would have to leave soon. A beating would be waiting for her of that there was no doubt, so she better make it worth it.
Mary clasped her hands together to try and quell the terror. If anyone saw her, she knew what her fate would be. A vile taste rose in her mouth. The day Gerta died, the visceral smell of her screaming, burning body, like nothing else she had ever witnessed. She would have given anything to turn away but they were watching and they would know and their punishment would be swift. So, she had watched as she watched the page now.
Her eyes widened, transfixed as the name magically appeared, the handwriting beautiful and flowing on the page. She imagined even the King’s Scribes would be jealous of such penmanship.
Penelope
Mary’s brow furrowed. She didn’t know anyone called Penelope, but the name had a Greek Origin meaning Weaver. Mary didn’t know how she knew this. Had she read it in one of the books her father had brought back from his travels? It didn’t matter.
What did this mean? A thought struck her like lightning bolt through her brain and she turned a few pages and hovered her finger above the names as she searched through the list of names. On the fifth page her heart stopped.
Gerta
Gerta had a dark line through it. Gerta was dead. It could be another Gerta she told herself vainly but so many names were crossed out on this page. So many, she had heard some of their names.
She knew she was now the guardian of the witches’ names. That this book contained the names of all witches who had ever lived, died and who would be. A tear tracked down her pale face as she read the numerous crossed out names. Dead witches. Many no doubt killed by the Witchfinders.
As her head cleared she noticed a pattern. The names were grouped together. She turned the pages carefully, mindful not to damage the old parchment. She counted them but there was a clear space and each group included six names. Why six names. From the little she knew as it was dangerous to engage in gossip surrounding witches, pentagrams are five pointed stars so why were there six names? She couldn’t think about it now. She had to go.
Quickly she turned back to the page with the name Penelope and read the names:
Drakon
Caitlyn
William
Penelope
She wondered why only four names, could this be the start of… her mind knew what the word was but she was hesitant to let the word form in her mind. Quickly, she closed the book and returned it to its hiding place and carefully put everything back in place checking it was safe Mary locked up and swiftly left the church, making her way home for the inevitable punishment which was coming her way but nothing could dampen her spirit.
She knew it in her heart that she was the guardian. It was her job to protect the book. Cursing herself she should have paid more attention to the names in Gerta’s list – maybe she would recognise one of them and she could find out more. As the rain started she quickened her step. It would be dangerous to talk to anyone but she had to know what was expected of her. Why had she been given this task. She pushed away the thoughts that she was just trying to make herself important because she was a nobody but what else could the book be. She had seen the words appear before her eyes and she wasn’t a fanciful daydreamer.
Reaching her home, she took a deep breath and opened the door. She screamed as a hand gripped her shoulder.
(please note this is just a bit of writing practice for me and this hasn’t been edited so there will be mistakes.)
C.L. Peache 