The Witches of Glass Castle: Uprising (The Witches of the Glass Castle Series Book 2) (8 page)

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he interrupted. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘
Of course
I’ll protect you. I would do anything for you! And I’d sooner die than see you harmed...’

Mia’s heart thudded in her chest.

‘So if it comes to that,’ he went on calmly, ‘if I’m...
not around
,’ he clarified, ‘I need to know that I’ve done all I can to prepare you. To give you a fighting chance. I need to be certain that you
can protect
yourself
when I’m not there to do it for you.’

Mia was stunned to silence.

‘I mean, when I’m dead,’ he elaborated, in case she had missed his point. ‘Completely dead.’

She lifted her palm to stop him. ‘I get it.’

Colt ran his hands over his face, weary now. His eyes had paled to their usual forest-green hue and he was subdued again.

‘I’m sorry,’ Mia told him.

He shrugged. ‘Go, if you have to. I won’t stop you this time.’ He sat back in his chair and lifted a new blade from the desk, inspecting it under the moonlight’s glow. With his back to her, he lifted the silk cloth and slid the blade across it.

Mia closed her eyes for a moment, processing their exchange. ‘I get it,’ she told him. ‘I understand what you’re trying to do.’

He continued running the cloth along the blade.

‘I don’t like to think of you as...completely dead,’ Mia confessed.

‘It’s not ideal.’

Mia sighed. ‘I suppose you can take a fish to water, but you can’t make it drink,’ she mused thoughtfully.

Colt laughed. ‘Horse,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘You can take a horse to water.’

‘Oh.’

He craned his neck to look at her. ‘Fish, one would imagine, are already there.’

‘I didn’t mean it, you know,’ she ventured in a small voice. ‘What I said about you being a Hunter and all.’

His expression was indifferent. ‘I
am
a Hunter,’ he said simply.

‘But you’re not...a heartless one,’ she offered meekly.

He frowned, and a pained expression crossed his face. ‘Of all your remarks,
that’s
the one that stings the most.’

‘Okay, you’re very heartless,’ she humoured him.

He paused, turning fully in his chair to look at her. ‘Keep talking.’

‘Cruel, too,’ she said, edging timorously back into the room.

‘The cruellest,’ he added.

‘Definitely.’

‘And don’t forget, you’ve got to keep your friends close and your enemies closer,’ he cajoled.

Mia tiptoed to where he sat. ‘I won’t,’ she said. ‘Just one more thing...’

‘Yes?’ Colt asked with a shadow of a smirk.

She placed her hands on her hips. ‘Are you ever going to kiss me?’

Colt tried to hide his smile. He rose to his feet and pulled her into a familiar kiss.

Everything else melted away. She was back where she belonged. She was with Colt. 

‘So...’ she breathed as they parted. ‘About this candle...’ She pressed her fingertips together and ambled back to the spot on the floor where the candles still stood. ‘All I have to do is make one flame leap to the next? No six-foot infernos or pyrotechnics or anything?’

‘Just light the candle,’ Colt answered wryly.

Mia sank to the floor and sat cross-legged before her task. ‘Get ready to be amazed,” she said, flexing her fingers.

Colt grinned. ‘Darling,’ he scoffed, ‘I was born ready.’

One hour and twenty-seven minutes later, Mia lit the candle.

* * *

Dino sat upright on his bed, watching shadows play across the door.

Where is she?
he wondered, glancing at his watch. It was past midnight. He stood up, then sat back down again.
No
, he thought, biting his lip.
I can’t go skitzo every time she’s out
.
She’s fine. She’ll be with Colt.

The others had gone to bed hours ago, but Dino couldn’t sleep. Not until he knew Mia was back safely.

I can trust Colt
, he reminded himself for what felt like one time too many. Although the fact that they’d had to seek sanctuary at the Glass Castle begged the question, could they really trust anyone? Even his own mother was a suspect in his eyes. Perhaps it was paranoia, but trust was something Dino didn’t feel he had an awful lot of lately.

Somewhere along the line, he had become Mia’s guardian—self-appointed, but responsible for her safety nonetheless. In fact, over the last few months, that had been his main purpose in life—his
only
purpose—although he would die of embarrassment if Mia ever caught on.

Something had shifted within him after everything that had happened with Tol over the summer. Since then, Dino had vowed to be the opposite of his so-called father. He would not simply coast through life trying not to kill anyone. Rather, he would go all out and make sure nobody else did, either.

If only she’d just stay where I can see her
, he thought irritably. Saving Mia was going to be hard work.

‘Where are you?’ he muttered to the canopy over his four-poster bed.

Alone in the shadowy room, his thoughts began to spiral. What if she’d been found by whomever they were hiding from? Was she out there somewhere, hurt and needing his help? His gaze shot to the dark night beyond the window, which was just visible through the gap in his bed curtains. What if it was too late?

He quickly climbed out of bed and straightened the collar of his T-shirt.

I’ll get help
, he decided, making for the door.
Wendolyn will know what to do
.

Beyond the bedchamber, the corridor was quiet and gloomy. It was bitterly cold in the cavernous castle and there was very little light, with only a few oil lamps burning over the staircase that led to Wendolyn’s quarters. In the opposite direction, the winding route to the Hunter wing was swallowed up by the darkness. As Dino embarked along the dimly lit corridor, a movement on the staircase caught his eye.

He paced towards the stairs, where a figure hovered next to the grand banister.

Jonathan
, Dino realised.

‘Oh, hi, Dean,’ Jonathan greeted him in a hushed voice. He lingered halfway up the staircase, one hand folded over the oak rail.

Dean?
Dino echoed silently.
Ah, well. Close enough
. ‘Hi, John,’ he replied, his voice lowered too.

‘It’s Jonathan,’ the other boy corrected him kindly. ‘What are you doing up at this hour? I thought I was the only insomniac around here.’

Dino paused on the staircase and glanced over his shoulder towards the Hunter wing. He didn’t have time to waste making small talk with Jonathan.

‘I can’t sleep,’ Jonathan went on, oblivious to Dino’s reluctance.

‘No kidding,’ said Dino, distractedly looking over his shoulder again. ‘You haven’t seen my sister around, have you?’

‘No.’ Jonathan’s pale blue eyes lit up in the oil lamp’s glow. ‘Why? Is she awake, too?’

Dino shrugged. ‘She’s not in our bedchamber.’

‘Do you think she’s in trouble?’

Dino regarded him carefully. As far as he could tell, Jonathan seemed genuinely concerned. Maybe Jonathan could help him search for Mia—although perhaps it was too soon to raise the alarm.
No
, he decided,
I’ll speak to Wendolyn first
.

‘She’ll be all right,’ he replied at last. ‘She’s probably with her boyfriend or something.’

Jonathan’s eyebrows drew together. ‘Boyfriend?’

‘Yeah. Colt.’

‘The Hunter?’ Jonathan exclaimed. ‘The
Hunter
is her boyfriend?’

All of a sudden, Jonathan’s interest in Mia made sense.

He likes her
, Dino realised.
Gross
.

For a split second, Dino entertained the thought of Jonathan taking Colt’s place. Okay, so he didn’t particularly
like
Jonathan, nor did he particularly see why Mia had to have a boyfriend at all. But at least Jonathan was human...ish.

‘I’d have thought that Mia would’ve had more sense,’ Jonathan muttered begrudgingly. ‘Especially after what happened with her mother and—’ He cut his sentence short, evidently remembering that Mia’s mother was Dino’s mother, too.

Dino tilted his head. ‘You mean my mother and Tol?’

‘No offence,’ Jonathan backtracked. ‘It’s just, you know, a Hunter and an Arcana...’ His nose crinkled. ‘It’s
wrong
.’

‘Colt’s nothing like Tol,’ Dino found himself saying. He almost laughed at the sound of the words on his lips. Since when did he defend Colt?

‘But...he’s a Hunter,’ Jonathan spluttered. ‘Don’t you see how unnatural such a pairing is? It’s...well, no offence to your mother, but to be honest, Dean, it’s sick.’

Oh, man
, thought Dino, checking over his shoulder again as Jonathan ranted.
How did I get sucked into a conversation with this guy?

‘I mean, you really can’t trust Hunters,’ Jonathan went on. ‘Just like witches who follow dark magic, they’re masters at sizing up their competition, looking for any weakness in their prey so they can swoop in to exploit it. It’s classical intraspeciated attachment training...’

Dino glanced at his watch. He was about to improvise an excuse to leave—or perhaps just cut and run—when a familiar voice came from behind him.

‘What are you guys doing out here?’

‘Mia!’ Jonathan gasped.

Dino spun around, and all at once the tension slipped from his shoulders. She was alive. He had to fight every urge to hug her. As a rule, hugs were reserved for birthdays and near-death experiences. And since this wasn’t her birthday, by default it’d make his motive suspicious.

‘What are
you
doing out here?’ he returned the question, regaining a blasé smokescreen. ‘I thought you were in bed.’
Nice touch
, he congratulated himself silently.

Jonathan frowned. ‘But didn’t you just say you were looking for her?’

Dino pursed his lips. ‘No,’ he said in a tight voice.

‘But—’

‘Anyway,’ Dino swiftly moved on, ‘did you want something?’ he asked Mia offhandedly.

‘Nope,’ she said. ‘Just wondered what you were doing out here.’

‘I’m talking to my friend John.’

‘It’s Jonathan,’ Jonathan corrected.

‘Sure,’ said Dino.

Mia eyed them doubtfully. ‘Okay,’ she answered. ‘I’m going to bed, then.’

‘Whatever,’ said Dino.

In this muted light, he noticed that her eyes seemed almost translucent. She looked supernatural, and it sent a chill over Dino’s skin. She
was
supernatural. They both
were.

He pushed the thought aside. ‘Night, Mia,’ he managed.

‘Night, Mia!’ Jonathan echoed. ‘See you tomorrow.’

‘Goodnight,’ she returned.

As his sister retreated to their bedchamber, Dino allowed himself to let out a sigh of relief. He stared along the corridor as the bedroom door closed behind her. She was safe.

For now.

‘Hey, do you smell belladonna?’ Jonathan asked, jolting Dino from his reverie.

‘Huh?’ said Dino, having no idea what Jonathan was talking about.

‘Belladonna. I thought I smelled it, but’—he sniffed the air—‘never mind. It’s probably just vervain. My palate must still be acclimated to seaside conditions,’ he apologised.

Dino resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

‘But hey, here’s an interesting fact I learned in the Arcana Tomes today,’ Jonathan went on. ‘Did you know that early Arcana habit was to sow vervain on a full moon to prevent astral shift?’

Dino groaned inwardly. ‘No.’

‘Me, either!’ Jonathan chortled, slapping his leg. ‘And that’s just the tip of the iceberg! Take a seat, Dean. You’re going to love this. You and I have got a lot to talk about.’

Strengths and Weaknesses

Mia awoke early, restless despite her late night. She untangled herself from the crisp, white sheets and drew open the bed’s canopied curtains. The dim ochre light of dawn was creeping in through the window, bringing the new day into the chamber.

Mia crawled out of bed and padded across the room.

‘Dino?’ she whispered.  His bed curtains were drawn and she could hear him breathing steadily behind them.

Moving noiselessly so as not to wake him, Mia quickly swept a brush through her hair and changed into a pair of jeans and a slouchy olive-coloured top. She retreated to the bathroom to freshen up before ducking out into the hallway.

Last night’s candles had burned out, leaving mounds of melted wax rooted in the wall-mounted candleholders. Small pockets of light spilled through the lead-framed windows and settled on the staircase in yellow pools. As Mia descended the staircase to the castle’s main floor, she trailed her fingers along the sleek oak handrail, glad to have something to hold on to in the eerily quiet castle. Her footsteps echoed in a desolate patter as she treaded softly down the stairs.

Emerging in the ground floor corridor, Mia crept along the dark wood-panelled passage and eased open the door to the drawing room. The room was motionless, just like the rest of the castle. She curled up in a worn, brown leather armchair and gazed at the painted faces trapped inside the gold-framed oil paintings on the walls. Steady eyes looked back at her, piercing her with their unblinking stares. Men, women, Hunters, Arcana—all immortalised and honoured as they hung from the walls, their existence forever branded and present in the Glass Castle.

‘The great witches of our time,’ came a voice from behind her.

Startled, Mia jumped to her feet.

At the back of the room, hidden amongst the shadows cast by bookcases and furniture, Jonathan was seated in a black velvet armchair. In front of him was a small table adorned with glass tubes and jars, a clay pot, and a leather-bound book opened to an aged and yellowed page.

‘Jonathan,’ Mia gasped. ‘I didn’t realise you were in here.’

He smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’

‘What are you doing down here so early?’ Mia asked, glancing to the low blush of dawn beyond the window. ‘Why aren’t you asleep?’

‘I can’t sleep,’ he replied. ‘Ever.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘At least, not lately. I figure it’s a better use of my time to work on my herbal studies. At least I’ll get something positive from my insomnia,’ he joked. ‘Actually, I could do with an extra pair of hands, if you wanted to help.’

Mia hesitated for a moment.

‘I don’t bite,’ he added with a grin.

She relaxed into a smile. ‘Okay.’

Jonathan patted the chair beside him, beckoning her to join him.

Mia crossed the room and took a seat in a high-backed chair next to Jonathan. She peered down at the neatly arranged table before them. Her shoulders sagged at the sight of the miniscule text scrawled across the pages of the open leather-bound volume.
Jonathan flashed a broad smile. ‘So,’ he began, pinning his finger to a subheading in the book, ‘we’re going to make a purifying potion. Back at the Lighthouse, Amos encourages us to do this type of thing all the time. I’m starting to get pretty good at it.’

‘Oh.’ Mia pursed her lips. ‘I should warn you, I’ve never made a potion before.’

Jonathan stared at her, aghast. ‘
Never
?’

She flipped her palms to the ceiling and shrugged. ‘I meant to...this one time...with my friend Kizzy...but I didn’t.’

‘No worries.’ Jonathan’s expression softened. ‘Hey, I’m glad you’ve chosen me to help you make your first brew. It’s a big step, you know.’

Although Jonathan clearly took pride in sharing this moment with her, all Mia felt was a surge of remorse. Remorse because, for the first time, it wasn’t Colt at her side as she mastered another power.

And she
wanted
it to be Colt, she realised sadly.

‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ Jonathan assured her, mistaking the uncertainty in her eyes for fear. ‘You can trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you.’ He passed Mia a handful of bright red berries from one of the jars. ‘Crush these rowan berries into the cauldron.’ He gestured to the black clay pot on the table.

Mia cupped the berries in her palm.
Don’t overreact
, she told herself. After all, this meant nothing. It was just a potion. Anyway, she’d have to learn to do lots of things without Colt—just like there were lots of things he did without her. Things that she couldn’t be a part of. Hunter things.

Mia dropped the berries into the cauldron and began crushing them with her fingers. Red dye stained her skin as the berries burst.

‘Not so bad, is it?’ said Jonathan, grinning as he watched the berries pop.

Mia laughed. ‘No, it’s not so bad.’

‘I don’t know if you know this or not,’ he said, engaging her in idle conversation as she kneaded the berries, ‘but that guy up there’—he pointed to a gold-framed portrait on the mahogany-panelled wall—‘is Rothford Wix. He was one of the very first settlers here in Silver Brook. He was also Amos and William’s father.’

Mia followed Jonathan’s gaze to an image of a regally dressed man with slicked back hair and fine angular features.

‘Rothford Wix was one of the greatest Arcana of all time,’ Jonathan went on. ‘He was incredible.’

‘Did he live at the castle?’

‘Of course! This was
his
castle,’ Jonathan clarified.

‘So, does that mean Amos lived here, too?’ Mia asked, surprised.

‘Yeah. But then Amos moved to the Lighthouse and his brother William stayed here.’

Mia smiled self-consciously. ‘I don’t know much about the history of the castle. All I know is that William Wix was married to Wendolyn, and that his nickname was Spangles.’

‘I didn’t know that!’ Jonathan laughed.

Mia gasped. ‘You mean I knew something you didn’t? Shocking!’

Johnathan grinned and moved his attention to the next oil painting hanging from the wall.

‘That one,’ he said, pointing to a fair-haired lady in a ruby gown, ‘that’s Mary-Anne Arcana. She’s the most significant woman in our history. She changed our world. She fought for good magic to reign over vengeful witchcraft. That’s how the Arcana were born. Before Mary-Anne, witches were malevolent, hell-bent on inflicting suffering on civilians and the powerless.’

Mia stared at the beautiful woman in the portrait. ‘How do you know all of this?’ she asked, impressed by his knowledge. ‘You must spend a lot of time studying.’

He smiled and threaded his fingers together in his lap. ‘When you’re interested in something, learning about it doesn’t seem like work, really.’ He looked meaningfully at Mia. ‘It’s motivating.’

She returned the smile. ‘I need to find my motivation,’ she confessed. ‘At least, that’s what I’ve been hearing a lot lately,’ she added wryly.

‘I could help you,’ Jonathan offered, his gaze fixed on her.

‘Thanks. But even the best teacher would have a tough job motivating me right now.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ Jonathan asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘You motivate me.’

Feeling her cheeks grow hot, Mia broke the gaze. She stared down at the squashed berries in the cauldron. ‘So, what’s next?’ she asked, flustered.

Jonathan cleared his throat. ‘Yeah. Next.’ He sifted through his test tubes and selected a vial full of colourless liquid. ‘Add one drop of this to the mixture,’ he said, handing the vial to Mia.

She popped the cork stopper. ‘Just one drop?’ she checked.

‘Just one.’

Mia held the vial carefully between her thumb and forefinger. ‘This isn’t toxic, is it?’ She frowned at the strange transparent liquid. ‘It’s so...see-through.’

‘It’s water.’

‘Oh.’ Mia pursed her lips. ‘Right.’ She allowed one drop to fall in with the pulverised rowan berries.

‘Now this,’ Jonathan breathed, handing her a vial of what looked like grit. ‘A dash of sandalwood...’

How much is a dash?
Mia wondered. She sprinkled several grains into the cauldron and hoped for the best. As the sandalwood sank into the mixture, it smoked and fizzed, causing a rich perfumed scent to waft up to them.

‘Can you feel that?’ Jonathan murmured. ‘It’s calming and purifying the air around us.’

Mia closed her eyes and inhaled. It was hard to define exactly what had changed, but Jonathan was right—the air really
did
feel different. Peaceful, almost.

Jonathan leaned in closer to the concoction, breathing in the floral scent. ‘Ah,’ he murmured. ‘Perfect. Congratulations! You made your first potion.’

‘Thanks!’ said Mia, beaming with pride. ‘And I got a history lesson, too.’

As they hovered over the gently steaming cauldron, Jonathan’s hand strayed closer to where Mia’s rested on the table.

‘I could tell you more, if you want,’ Jonathan began, sounding a little uncertain. ‘I know about your father, too.’

Mia flinched, suddenly sober again. The potion’s effects didn’t seem all that sedating anymore. ‘I think you mean
Tol
.’

They sat upright in their chairs.
‘But,’ Jonathan began, casting a wayward glance at her, ‘he
was
your father, though, wasn’t he?’
‘My father? You mean, the Hunter who tried to kill me and turn my brother evil?’

‘Yeah,’ said Jonathan, oblivious to her barbed tone. ‘He’s your father, right?’

‘Technically.’

Jonathan gave a perfunctory nod as if Mia had answered a question on a pop quiz correctly. ‘Tol was a respected Hunter in his day,’ Jonathan mused, speaking without empathy.

‘Good for him,’ Mia replied in a flat tone. 

Abruptly, Jonathan hopped from his seat and wandered towards the very back of the room, to a corner that was almost entirely swallowed by shadows and dust. ‘This is him, isn’t it?’ He pointed to a small framed picture—a photograph this time.

All of a sudden, Mia’s throat went dry. She rose from her chair and walked quickly to Jonathan’s side. She’d seen that picture before—glimpsed at it, anyway—but she had never truly looked at it. There were others like it, too. They were group photos, staged in the castle’s courtyard. This one in particular was an old snapshot of people so small and out of focus that it would have been easy to overlook it. And, indeed, Mia
had
overlooked it many times before.

However, as Mia stood before it now, she saw it all perfectly, as though it were the size and resolution of the looming portraits.

Jonathan’s finger was pressed to the top left-hand corner, where a man—not entirely unlike Dino—stood smiling roguishly. His arm was enveloping a girl with wild red hair and a porcelain complexion. 

‘That’s my mother,’ Mia whispered.

‘Cassandra Bicks,’ Jonathan confirmed, as though she needed telling.

Lost for words, Mia stared at the photograph. She followed the curve of her mother’s arm all the way down to her delicate hand, where her fingers knotted with Tol’s. Their joined hands were almost undetectable, almost out of sight of the camera’s lens. Almost, but not quite.

Here Mia stood, nearly twenty years later, glimpsing into a private moment shared between her parents. The facts were all right there, preserved in the still frame. Tol had been human. And her mother had loved him.

The irony stung. It could have been her and Colt in that photograph. It could have been
their
hands clasped in that undefinable mutual need to be in constant connection with one another, their bodies innately leaning into each other as though they were joined by a thread being pulled slowly tighter. Their expressions were woozy with love—an expression only detectable by someone infected with that very same impairment.

‘That’s the problem with Hunters,’ Jonathan’s voice cut through the silent drawing room. ‘They can turn so quickly. They’re not like us. They have no moral code.’

Mia bristled, but her pale grey eyes remained glued to the photo. ‘That’s a generalisation,’ she muttered distantly. ‘And it’s not true.’

Back within the photograph, amongst a sea of teens with dated clothes and staged smiles, was a commanding girl with a mane of red corkscrew curls and a surly pout.

Mia blinked. ‘Aunt Maddie,’ she murmured, smiling. It was like sneaking a peek into a past she hadn’t realised existed. Or rather, like looking through a portal into a parallel universe. Her aunt and mother were
people
before they were her aunt and mother.

With a quick glance to the closed drawing room door, Mia lifted the frame from the panelled wall. She unhooked the catch on the back of the frame and slipped the photograph out.

‘What are you doing?’ Jonathan exclaimed.

Mia shushed him. ‘I’m just borrowing it. No one will even know it’s gone.’

She folded the photo once and tucked it into her jeans pocket, then returned the frame to its spot on the wall.