Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (4 page)

I finally comprehended what was happening
and had to stop it. I looked around for help but was aware that I
would receive none. I looked up and caught the woman’s eyes; she
smiled at me and laughed. Perhaps they had driven her to madness,
or perhaps it was simply the Goddess’ mercy that she had left her
senses. I heard someone quote the bible, reciting, “
None shall
suffer a witch to live.
”

The man from the ship stood in front of the
bound woman on the platform of wood for all to see, “Today, Janet
Horrne has been convicted of the treachery of witchcraft. Such
crimes are punishable by death.”

I heard her laughing behind him as though
she knew something that he did not, but she never spoke a word.
Then I smelt the burning of the hay followed by the stench of
burning flesh. The cries of pain from the woman broke through the
thick mist, but her voice was soon drowned out by the taunting of
the bloodthirsty crowd. I was horrified by the evil nature of the
people that surrounded me.

I went to turn and run, but I was stopped by
a booming voice, “There is another witch amongst us,” the man from
the ship yelled as he pointed at… ME? My eyes widened. The
onlookers started surrounding me and I could feel the heat of the
torches on my skin as they closed in. I stood frozen with fear as
his spell started working on me again. I felt paralyzed and
powerless against him.

“Bring her to me,” the leader ordered as he
jumped off the platform, away from the great flames that shot up
into the dark sky. The woman had stopped screaming now. In the back
of my mind, I assumed she was dead. Taken hopefully by the smoke
and not the flames, but I did not know. I could hear his heavy
boots crunching on the pebbles and earth below his feet as the
crowed parted to let him reach me without interference.

“You escaped me once Aislin. It won’t happen
again,” he said when he was merely meters away. I looked around,
determined to escape, but I found nowhere to flee. Then I heard a
voice strong and forceful in my right ear.

“Aislin you must wake up! Break the spell,
wake up!” he screamed at me.

I sat straight up in bed, sweat covered my
entire body and my heart was beating as though it would explode. I
rubbed my eyes and sat in silence, encircled by the darkness of
early morning. It was my protector, the stranger who saved me at
the port had saved me again, but how I did not know. The other man,
the Grey Man, was still after me and he had found a way to invade
my dreams. I had nowhere to hide anymore.

I wrapped my quilt around me and walked over
to the window, staring out into the darkness. I saw nothing. I half
expected to see the Grey Man staring up at me, ready to finally
finish me, but my eyes were greeted with the dimness of the last
moments before dawn.

As I was turning from the window to dress
for the day, I noticed something catch the light of my candle. I
looked on the ledge of my windowsill and saw something lying
outside the glass. I slowly opened the pane and reached carefully
through the little crack.

My hand landed on an object, small and soft.
I pulled it in and shut the window tight. I held the item to the
light of the candle. It was the garnet necklace, on the silk cord,
that I had been holding at the port.

CHAPTER FOUR

My mother and I spent the entire day placing
protection charms around the house, my father’s shop, the stable
and all our animals. We then spent the remainder of the evening
looking through the book in search of answers for what I had
encountered. We established that a dark spell had been used against
me and that its conjurer was a powerful wizard, but we could not
find a motive for such an act. We found numerous creatures that
possessed the ability to move with great speed and possessed great
strength but none in the shape of a man and none that could walk in
the light of day.
Why had I been targeted and who was this Grey
Man?

By the time my father came home, we were
both exhausted and my mother barely got the floorboard in the
kitchen back in place before he walked into the room.

My father looked fatigued. Deep lines and
dark circles rimmed his tired, bright blue eyes and his graying
hair was messy from a long day’s work. He walked over and kissed me
on my forehead, “Are you feeling better?” He was a man of medium
build, but his long hours spent hunched over the parchment made him
slump slightly forward, giving him the appearance of being much
shorter than he actually was.

“Aye,” I replied while smiling up at
him.

I could see great concern in his tired eyes
and I felt his anxiety as though it was my own. Then again, I had
many reasons to feel anxious.

CHAPTER FIVE

Mid morning

I was home alone. Mother had gone to the port
to buy the fabric that I did not have time to get when Abigail and
I had gone before. The house was quiet and she had left me to
continue my search through the book. My cat lay curled up around my
feet as I sat in the chair near the window of the sitting room
flipping through the pages and trying to connect numerous spells
and listings.

The book appeared small when you first
looked at it, but it was heavy to hold and the pages went on much
further than a book of its size should. I found things in it that I
had not noticed before, listings of monsters, demons, creatures and
faeries. I read about the werewolf. A man who could turn into a
wolf on the full moon nights and prowl the countryside for human
flesh, turning those that it did not kill into its own kinsman.
Surely, that was not what my protector was. I read about woodland
folk who lived under the hills of Ireland. The faeries, which would
play tricks on those they did not like but were loyal to those they
admired; witches. On and on I read, but the answers never came to
my pressing questions. My mother said the book would reveal the
answers when I was ready to receive them, and perhaps that time had
not yet arrived. I reached down to my dress pocket and held the
little silk pouch that was tucked inside. It was full of herbs and
salts that I was to keep with me at all times. These items had been
blessed, and would help to keep me safe.

I placed the book down and went to the back
door, hoping that a stroll in the yard would clear my mind and
allow me to have some solace. My cat, Sneachta, followed me
outside. She was ready to hunt.

I sat on a bench near the garden and watched
as the pure white cat tiptoed about, sticking out against the
darkness of the fall leaves and barren ground. She walked around
and flicked her paw at the leaves, turning them over to inspect
what may lie underneath them. I was surprised that she had not left
the yard. Normally, she would have gone into the woods behind the
house by now. Yet, she stayed close to me and every once in a while
turned to look in my direction.

I had brought out some embroidery that I was
working on. It was a pattern of holly berries and ivy leaves. My
mother had plans to inlay the holly and ivy into the bodice of my
dress for the Governor’s Ball. I had no idea why I was working on
this ridiculous task. I had no interest in going to the Ball and
was only doing so to please my father and retain his good standing
in the town. No one mentioned it, but everyone knew that the Ball
was where good matches were made between the parents of young women
and potential suitors.

There was no one I was interested in being
courting by—well, perhaps there was one man. I reached up and
touched the garnet stone that sat close to the base of my neck and
I found my mind drifting back to my protector again.

My mind stole away to the moments we spent
in the shop together. I was so frazzled at the time that I did not
pay attention to details, but my memory had preserved those moments
and I now reflected upon them.

He was tall and had broad shoulders, with
sculpted muscles in his back and arms
.
My
mysterious protector
resembled a highly trained soldier; he
looked rather athletic and strong. He was dressed well, but did not
wear all the adornments that the other men of the town did. He wore
no lace, nor floral patterns of shiny silk. His clothes were of
fine quality, but they were very plain. It was odd to see such a
man dressed so conservatively, although as my mind’s eye settled on
his features, I realized that he was so staggeringly handsome that
he did not require all the adornments that other men used to
enhance their looks. His hair was cut short compared to the
townsmen. It was dark and wavy, with an occasional curl that hung
into his eyes, and he had soft, full, lips. His face was burned
into my memory, but my mind focused on his eyes. It was not the
coloration of his eyes that was so beguiling—although they were
quite beautiful. It was the way that his eyes reached mine. There
was something in the way he looked at me, as though he had always
known me—as though we were connected. Even his voice was strangely
familiar to me. It called to me and it resonated long after his
last words were spoken.

A sharp pain caught my attention and I
dropped the embroidery hoop onto my lap. I looked down to find
blood trickling down my index finger. I must have pricked myself
when I was deep in the thoughts of my mysterious guardian. I then
heard Sneachta, growling deep and low, although I could not locate
her with my eyes. I heard something rustling in the woods beyond
the borderline of the yard. I instinctually reached for my
protective herbs, dripping blood all over my dress as I did so. I
stood, not knowing if I should run or if Sneachta was the one who
was in trouble and needed me.

Then I saw the most curious of things.
Sneachta was making her way toward me by walking backwards, hissing
and spitting in the direction of the woods as she retreated. I
slowly started making my way to the door, remembering my father
telling me that when you ran from a predator it only encouraged it
to chase. I tried my hardest not to show fear. I could not see
anything in the woods but I could hear the movement of something
large. I could hear my cat’s warnings as we both were withdrawing
to the threshold of the doorway.

I had gotten the pouch out of my pocket by
this time and stood in the doorway, waiting for my cat to get to me
before I drew a line on the threshold of the herbs and salt as my
mother had instructed before she left. Sneachta was close
now—almost to me. I held the herbs tightly in my hand. Trust in the
magic, I told myself as I caught my mind wondering if this really
would be enough to stop whatever was causing my faithful cat to
defend her territory with such ferocity.

Within a moment that seemed to take an
eternity, Sneachta leaped passed the threshold into the house. I
quickly drew the line at the base of the doorway and slammed it
shut. As I did so, something slammed back against it so hard the
hinges threatened to give way. I heard a scream of anguish and
smelled burnt flesh. I leaned with all my might against the door
but then Sneachta stepped between the doorway and me. I looked at
her and she looked toward the front of the house. We raced
together, knocking over chairs and books as we scrambled to place
more of the magical mixture at that precipice as well. We reached
the door just in time to hear something pulling at the doorknob.
When I placed the mixture down, I heard another cry. This time it
was not as loud. Whatever this was knew not to draw attention to
itself in the open street.

I ran to the closest window and began to
line the sill with the herbs. The windowpanes rattled with great
force, and I looked up to see four long claw marks deeply etched
into the vibrating glass. I let out a shriek of terror but then
Sneachta yowled and snapped me out of my frozen stupor. I quickly
moved to every window and drew a protective line and finally we
heard nothing but my pounding heart.

Sneachta sat next to the book and I knew I
was supposed to pick it up. We sat in the middle of the room,
alone. I was trembling and Sneachta was licking at the blood that
still ran down my finger trying to clean it as best she could.

I opened the book and for the very first
time in my life, I cast a spell. My mother had encouraged me never
to use magic unless it was of extreme importance.

“Every spell cast is another opportunity for
our secrets to come to the surface,” she warned.

I had no choice. Sneachta gave me a look of
approval as the book opened to the spell that I was to use. I
grabbed the candle that sat on the table and ran over to the hearth
to light it; then I recited the spell aloud. The candle’s flame
flickered and sparked as the magic ran through it.

CHAPTER SIX

Late afternoon

My mother walked into the house and found
Sneachta and I in the same spot. I was now reading Robinson Crusoe
and she was fast asleep. My mother’s eyes were wide. She nearly
dropped the bundles of fabric, lace and embellishments that were
carefully stacked in her arms.

“What happened here?” she demanded, “I can
feel the magic in this room.”

I ran passed her and slammed the door shut,
locking it and replacing the scattered herbs and salts. I took some
of the items out of her arms and placed them on a side table.

“I do not know what really happened but I
had to use a protection spell to get the thing to leave.”

My mother walked to where the book lay open
on the floor, she picked it up and examined the spell, her eyes
grew wide and her skin turned pale. “How did you come about this
spell?” she whispered.

“The book fell open to it… I was panicked
and thought it would help. You always said that the book reveals
things when you are ready or in need,” I said.