A Late Summer Bloom (2 page)

He faced
the entrance to the cave. With his arms raised he said the incantation to open
its portal. Cecily walked over the threshold and never looked back. She chanted
over and over the deeper and farther she went into the blackness of its depths.
The words were ancient and powerful, a spell she weaved and weaved and weaved
until the layers ran deep and jagged and winding, like the cave itself.

Chapter Two

Nineteen Years Later

Fourteen-year-old
Joyal
Beaumont stood in the east wing of Cottonwood
Landing. The whispers of excited children could be heard coming down the regal
halls of the ancient home. There were plenty of children to be found here.
Cottonwood Landing housed the five royal families and offered a safe haven for
those who needed a respite from the human world.
Joyal
Beaumont belonged to one such family. And she disliked having to stay here. She
missed her siblings and her home. And like so many young witches her age, she
was a curious adventure-seeker who yearned to hone her craft. But instead, she
was stuck here.
Inside.
Going on
three weeks now.

While the
elders joined together for their spiritual conference,
Joyal
volunteered to entertain the younger children. It was something to do in an
otherwise boring place. No one was practicing magic and it annoyed her. But her
desire to be with the younger children won out over keeping company with kids
her own age. Clapping her hands, her authoritative voice gathered them in a
cluster. When they looked to her for direction, she stood straight and waited
patiently for them to quiet down.

Little
Sally Clemens raised her hand.
Joyal
, basking in her
role as
leader,
pointed to her and giggled. Sally stepped
forward. “What is your special gift, Miss
Joyal
?”

“Hmm.
Sally, I’m only fourteen. I won’t know my special power until I’m at least
nineteen or twenty. Every witch is born with a special power, aside from all
the other magic we can do. But it doesn’t surface until we come of age. It’s
what the elders call our
true calling
.”

Malcolm
raised his hand, “Have you ever seen a warlock?”

Joyal
shivered at the thought of coming face to face with a
warlock. “Now, Malcolm, surely you must know the answer to that. Our parents
teach us from a very early age that once you encounter a warlock, very few
survive. They are horrible, ugly creatures. Their skin is gray and wrinkly,
their ears pointy like their teeth, and they have red eyes—so red they can burn
a
hole
right through to your bones. And I heard, when
they suck the soul from your body, the pain is so terrible you want to die very
quickly. No one I know has ever seen one, except of course—”
Joyal
looked around as if spilling a big secret. The
children leaned in, and she whispered, “The travelers.” An audible gasp could
be heard from the children. They all oohed, and Cassandra raised her hand.
“Have you ever met a traveler, Miss
Joyal
?”

She
thought for a moment. It was her dream to meet a traveler. “No. I can’t say I
have.
For sure.
But did you know travelers can shift
into other life forms? They can be bears or birds or insects even but not for
very long. That’s what I heard anyway. They are said to be the most ferocious
fighters of all time.”

Cassandra
added, “My mom says a witch to the tenth power can beat any traveler in a
battle.”

Joyal
giggled. “Your mommy’s right. She can. She’s like the
human world’s Wonder Woman.”

They
giggled, each girl pretending to be a witch to the tenth power and the boys,
travelers. When an argument erupted between Cassandra and a little boy named
Tommy,
Joyal
moved to the middle of the group. “Hey.
Hey. Calm down. What’s all the arguing about?”

Tommy
muttered, “Why can’t a boy be a witch to the tenth power?”

Cassandra
chimed in. “Yeah? And why can’t a girl be a traveler?”

Joyal
scratched her head.
“Hmm.
Well,
it’s simple, really. Your moms and dads explained that only females can have
babies right?” Some nodded their heads while others shouted their answers.
Joyal
took a deep breath and sighed. “Okay … okay. Babies
are very important to the covens. Female witches are supposed to try to get
pregnant at least ten times in their lifetime. If she is successful and her
tenth baby is a female, that child has what’s called the tenth power. This is a
very big deal in our coven. There are very few tenth powers and so far, none
this century. No one knows why, but for our kind, it’s not so easy to have
babies. That’s what the elders say anyway. Now, enough questions, who wants to
play hide and go seek?”

The
children jumped up and down, screaming with excitement.
Joyal
placed her hands on her hips and set the rules. “The game will be played in the
east wing only. If you go beyond it, you will be disqualified.”

She looked
around. Although she was not yet acclimated to the vast amount of rooms and
sections of Cottonwood Landing, she had a good sense of direction. Counting
twenty-two children,
Joyal
knew she had her work cut
out for her.

“Okay, I
will count to fifty.”
Joyal
mimicked a scary voice,
“And when I’m done I will come for each of you and lock you in my—prison.” When
the children scampered away, she closed her eyes and began to count.
“One—two—three.”
A few seconds later,
Joyal
said “Fifty. Ready or not, here I come.” Opening her eyes, she smiled and went
looking for the children.

Twelve of
the children were easy to find, practically hiding in plain sight. Six more
were hiding in closets and under beds. Three more were found clumped together
in an old dumbwaiter at the end of the hall.
Joyal
gathered them together. They were all there but one. Tommy was still hiding.

Percy
walked into the ball room. “
Joyal
, we are done with
our meeting. The children can come to the kitchen for ice cream.” The stampede
for the exit made her laugh aloud.

“You
certainly know how to clear a room, sir.”

He winked
at her. “You may have ice cream, too. Just because you’re a teenager doesn’t
mean you’re too old for the creamy deliciousness of vanilla bean ice cream.”

“
Mmm
.
Sounds
good. I’ll be along.
Tommy’s still hiding.”

She
noticed him look around at the now empty east wing and hesitate. He nodded his
head in agreement.
“Very good.
Don’t be long.”

Joyal
watched him walk away.
Maybe it’s not so bad here after all.
She just wished she could
find a little excitement. Shrugging her shoulders, she went in search of Tommy.
She stopped and rechecked the hiding spots she had already looked.
The dumbwaiter was pretty clever.
She
walked toward the end of the hall. To the right was a door to the old library.
She had looked inside previously, but decided to check the area again.

Inside she
scanned the generous amount of books. This library could compete with any human
library, and
Joyal
made a mental note to explore in
here more often. She pulled books off the shelf in the hopes of revealing a
secret wall and laughed at the predictability of her actions.
Crreeaak
.
She stopped and paid attention to the
eerie sound, as if someone was leaning on a loose floorboard. Tiptoeing over to
the window, she caught her toe on the old throw carpet. She noticed her mishap
revealed what looked to be an old handle.

Leaning
down,
Joyal
pulled a corner of the carpet up. A trap
door lay beneath the charcoal blue, oriental carpet. When she heard the excited
giggle of a young child, her head spun. It came from the direction of
the window. Dropping the rug,
Joyal
crept over
to the windows. The oversized gold tassel moved as the giggling continued in
little spurts. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to go eat all that ice cream by
myself,” she said.

When Tommy
emerged from behind the drapes, she put her hand in the air. “That, my man, was
a great spot to hide.
High five.”
The little boy
slapped her hand and ran out of the library in search of his ice cream.

Joyal
looked toward the door but her mind was on the trap door
in the floor.
Eh—why not. No one will
know.
Joyal
pulled the carpet back and grabbed
the old, rusted handle. When she yanked it open, cobwebs could be seen filling
the gap between the floor and the small staircase leading down. Taking one last
look around the library,
Joyal
descended the steps.

****

Percy
watched Tommy lick the ice cream from his top lip while kicking his legs. Percy’s
eyes felt heavy from worry. Although it would be near impossible to breach the
gates of Cottonwood Landing, he felt the evil closing in. Witches were dying,
their souls held hostage at the hands of the warlocks. There were more every
day, and he was clueless as to how to stop it. He needed the prophecy to be
fulfilled. The coven needed their witch to the tenth power. But Cecily
Jareau
was long gone and not for the first time, Percy
questioned if her claim that her child was the evil spawn of
Natas
was true, or a lie meant to buy her freedom. No one
knew if Giselle
Jareau
was a good witch or a bad one.
Only time would tell. And time seemed to be running out.

Rubbing
his tired eyes, he watched Tommy clean his ice cream bowl with his finger, then
clean his finger with his mouth. It was a small reprieve from the constant
worry as he chuckled at the little boy. “There is plenty more Tommy. You don’t
have to lick the bowl.”

He shook
his head from side to side.
“Can’t.
That’s for Miss
Joyal
.”

Percy
looked at the bowl of melting ice cream,
then
glanced
around the empty kitchen. His smile deflated and a jolt of panic shot through
him. “Where is she?”

Tommy
shrugged his shoulders.
“Left her in the library.”

Quickly,
he pushed his chair back from the kitchen table and rushed to the wall panel.
Uncovering the plastic key pad, he punched in a code. An alarm sounded
throughout the estate, and Percy shouted back to Tommy. “Find your parents,
son. And stay with them.”

Chapter Three

Joyal
felt as if she walked a mile through the darkness before
emerging into the bright sunshine. She blocked the sun’s rays with her hand and
looked around, finding herself outside the gates of Cottonwood Landing. She
recalled the warning of evil lurking in the shadows, waiting until the right
time, but she was a teenager now. She could handle herself. Besides, it was
such a beautiful day, and she was tired of staying inside. She promised herself
a short walk, then she would turn around and go right back.

After
walking for fifteen minutes, she stopped to admire a hibiscus flower
when she heard a rustling sound in the brush. Attributing the sound to a
little, fluffy rabbit,
Joyal
ignored her good sense
and walked another few feet. With every step she took away from the safe haven
of the estate, the sky above grew dark. And again, movement beyond the foliage
captivated her attention, only this time, it was closer. It was in that moment,
Joyal
paid attention to her now shrieking instinct.

Unable to
take another step forward, she froze with fear. Warnings she now recalled
manifested themselves right in front of her. The clouds blackened, gathering in
clusters in an otherwise blue sky. A warlock approached. The word screamed
through her mind as she ran. Warlock!

The wind
picked up as the darkness loomed over her. A shrill laugh echoed through the
trees. The dark followed her every movement. On and on it went, until just up
ahead she saw a ray of sunlight. An invisible divide that seemed to separate
the light from the darkness, a swaying breeze from a blustery wind. She ran
toward the serenity of quiet, away from the screeching echoes of laughter. She
ran with every last ounce of energy she had in the hopes of making it to the
tranquil side of the divide. Believing she would be safe in its stillness.

The evil
stench of decay surrounded her, making her gasp for air. Covering her ears, she
kept going when the laughter turned into a ferocious growl, as if from the
depths of a hollowed-out pit at the earth’s core. Whatever it was seemed wild
and hungry, and it came for her.
   
Almost there! Please!

As the
clammy cold fingers reached out for her arm, she managed to pull herself out of
the grasp of an evil creature. She took a flying leap forward and stumbled to
the other side. There, a man held out his arms to her and she ran to him,
sinking into his embrace. As
Joyal
sank into the
stranger’s arms, she trembled with fear. The man held her tight, rocking her.
Not wanting to look, she willed herself a glance at the darkness. A horrible,
withering creature stood with its arms outstretched, and long bony fingers
flailed in the air. Its fangs dripped with goo and the funk of the grave
appeared in its yellowed eye sockets. The wrinkled gray skin foretold of an
emaciated creature hungering to the point of extinction.