The Witches of the Glass Castle (The Witches of the Glass Castle Series Book 1) (16 page)

‘Step forward,’ Tol ordered Dino.

But Dino stood unmoving, frozen to the spot – half out of obstinacy, and half out of fear.

Tol locked eyes with him. ‘Step forward,’ he repeated in a spellbinding murmur.

This time, Dino had no control over his legs, he had to obey. He stepped on to a triangular symbol that had been scratched into the parched soil.

The two robed men continued to circle him with cruel leers on their
hollow faces.

Dino drew in an urgent breath as the symbol began to morph and mo
uld around his feet. It clamped him to the spot and sent a torrent of electricity through his body.

At first he
cried out in pain, but as the current worked its way along his arms and out to his fingertips, the sensation became less of a pain and more of a pleasure.

Tol salivated.
‘Do you feel that power?’

‘Yes,’ Dino whispered.

‘It’s waiting for you,’ Tol encouraged him menacingly. ‘Take it.’

Dino looked down at his hands in terrified awe
. His fingers trembled and glowed a vibrant yellow-black, the colour of a bruise.

‘Become us!’ Tol roared. His fierce voice reverberated
among the trees.

‘No!’ Dino choked. The flow of electricity inside of him started to burn. It became too hot for him to be
ar. He let out a cry.

Enraged, Tol slammed the palm of his hand down against the ground. On command, the symbol released its hold, sending Dino toppling forwards on to the forest floor.

‘We are running out of time,’ Tol growled to the other two men. ‘We must change him before he belongs to the Arcana.’

‘But he is resisting,’ one of the shadowed men snarled.

Dino caught a glimpse of the man. He was the taller of the two, with milky eyes and sharp rotten teeth.

Tol star
ed at Dino where he lay broken on the ground. ‘He is tempted,’ Tol judged. ‘The power has flowed through his veins, and soon he will crave it. Then he will surrender.’

All three men turned to Dino, tearing him apart with their eyes.

With his heart racing, Dino sprung to his feet and fled from the forest, running at full pelt to escape the nightmare.

‘Bring him back!’ the second cloaked man shouted.

‘No!’ Tol stopped them in a toxic voice. ‘We cannot take him unless he is willing. But we still have time. His allegiance is undecided, and eventually he will come to us.’

‘How?’ the man questioned irately. ‘You cannot force him to turn.’

‘No, but I have his blood,’ Tol reminded them. ‘I can call to him every night, infecting him with the dark power. And you’re forgetting – I’m part Sententia, too. I can plant feelings of desire and yearning in his mind, and he will believe that the thoughts are his own.’

‘It had better work,’ the taller of the two men scowled. ‘We’ve waited too long to lose him now.’

Tol cackled. ‘We won’t lose him. He’s already ours.’

As the weeks passed by, Mia resolved hers
elf to developing her Tempestus power. She hadn’t seen Colt since the day in the graveyard. And she missed him.

During their last conversation, Colt had told her that he could no longer meet with her. But she had presumed, after her sacrifice of blood, that things had changed between them. It certainly had seemed that way at the time. Not now though. Now she was left feeling abandoned and forgotten.

True to her word, she heeded his warning to steer clear of the forest. However, it didn’t stop her from returning to the graveyard every day, in the hope that he would eventually appear. But he never did.

On the bright side, Mia’s unaccompanied days proved to be a valuable asset in her quest to develop her powers. She often found herself alone in the solitude of nature, the ideal setting to engage and explore her abilities. Sometimes she would sit beneath the wind chimes for hours, channelling the breeze to sway them back and forth and play a soothing melody. She felt connected to everything and wonderfully at peace. Of course, she could not
quite match Colt’s skills yet.

But even with her new-found sense of serenity, she constantly dwelled on Colt’s
absence. Questions flooded her troubled mind. Where was he? Had he been hurt? Or was it simply a case of him not caring enough to find her?

One sunny Wednesday afternoon she decided to take matters into her own hands. On a whim, she plucked a catkin from the willow tree. She nursed the little flower in her hand as she headed for the embankment. Taking a seat on the grassy ridge, Mia looked down on the forest. There it stood,
dark and mysterious as always, hidden behind a veil of mist.

Mia opened out her hand. The catkin sat in
her palm, awaiting its task.

‘Go to Colt,’ Mia whispered to the dainty flower. And with a gentle breath, she blew on it.

The catkin lifted and soared, floating effortlessly on the summer’s breeze. Mia watched in admiration as it dutifully followed its course and vanished into the labyrinth of the forest.

That was that. The message to Colt had been sent. Now, all she could do was wait for a response – and what better place to wait than Spangles’ grave?

Satisfied with her plan, Mia rose to her feet and trotted to the graveyard. The familiar wind chimes welcomed her with their tuneful greeting. She strolled beneath them and took her place at Spangles’ stone, situating herself comfortably on the spongy moss. Her heart began to flutter with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

Any minute now
, she thought breathlessly.

But, as the minutes turned to hours, Mia had to face the reality that Colt wasn’t coming. She remained at the gravestone regardless, disheartened yet patiently steadfast all the same.

As she sat alone, she couldn’t help but remember his harsh words to her.

‘He will never reciprocate
,’ she murmured aloud.

And yet still she did not leave her post.

She touched the ground where Colt had once lain. Now, he merely seemed like a figment of her imagination. Maybe that was all he’d ever been.

Sadly, Mia began to feel the pain of her loss, and her loneliness. She had never known feelings like this before: they were intense and true, and had been awakened from a part of her soul which up until now had lain dormant. It was as though she and Colt had been destined to meet. As if their story had already been foretold. One thing was for certain – an
inexplicable force had drawn her to him. Perhaps it was the power they shared, or perhaps it was beyond that. But now he was gone. And somewhere deep in her heart, she feared that he would not return.

It began to rain.

The little catkin brushed against Colt’s leg and dropped to the forest floor. Colt recognised it instantly. The scent ghosting it was so intoxicating that it would have been impossible to mistake.

Hesitantly, he lifted the catkin from among the foliage and embraced it
in his hand.

He sucked in his breath sharply. He had been dreading this moment.
The moment in which she’d summon him. He wanted to ignore it, but how could he? She had been calling to him for weeks – he’d felt it – and it was sheer torture. And now, to see her message in front of his very eyes, as clear as day, was the ultimate temptation.

Why am I not stronger?
he scolded himself.

A wallop to the back of his head sent him hurtling into a thick tree trunk.

‘Colt!’ Lotan barked. ‘Your mind is elsewhere! Get yourself together.’

Colt staggered to his feet, the catkin still cocooned safely in his hand. ‘Minor error,’ he said aloofly. ‘I lost concentration for a moment.’

Lotan narrowed his raven-black eyes. ‘There is no room for error, minor or otherwise. Not with the intruder Hunter coven on our land.’

Lotan’s nostrils flared. ‘The girl,’ he said, picking up the scent that lingered in the travelling breeze.

Colt tilted his head, his expression deliberately unreadable.

‘Does she seek you?’ Lotan demanded.

‘No,’ Colt lied.

Lotan bared his teeth, angry at Mia’s continuing intrusion into his tight-knit coven. ‘If one of us is not alert, then the whole coven will fall,’ he warned Colt.

‘I
am
alert,’ Colt retorted with confident swagger.

‘She will destroy you,’ Lotan muttered resentfully, ‘if you let her.’

‘Forget the girl,’ Colt said briskly. ‘Yes, she requests my assistance, but I’m undisturbed, and eventually she’ll grow tired of trying.’

‘She aff
ects you,’ Lotan accused.

Colt laughed lightly. ‘She doesn’t affect me! She is simply a temporary inconvenience.’

‘If she poses such an inconvenience to you, then perhaps I should kill her,’ Lotan suggested casually.

Colt cleared his throat
. ‘Kill her if you wish,’ he said. ‘But be sure to have good reason, or else Wendolyn will banish us from the castle.
All
of us.’

‘I will take her if she steps foot on to our territory again. That
is
permitted.’ Lotan eyed his friend. ‘But, as you know, Colt, she has somehow managed to deflect my Enticement.’ If he suspected Colt of interfering, he certainly would not say so out loud.

Colt didn’t reply. What he had done had been the highest form of treason. To go behind the back of one of his coven was punishable by death.

‘Although,’ Lotan went on, ‘there are other ways in which I can draw her in.’

‘Why bother?’ Colt snapped. ‘She’s no threat. N
eed we continue with this inane conversation when there are more crucial matters at hand? A rival coven is closing in on our terrain, and your concerns are with a harmless girl.’

‘My concerns are with
you
!’ Lotan retorted.

‘Well, I’m at a loss as to why that would be,’ Colt grumbled. ‘It’s not my fault that she calls to me.’

Lotan met his stare. ‘Her calls are the least of my worries. Her influence is what troubles me most, brother.’

Colt chuckled pleasantly
. He strolled away with a blasé gait. ‘You think I’m not able?’ he challenged Lotan. ‘If that is the case, then I defy you to test me. Command our coven to track me and contain me; use it as a training exercise. Put them all on me, yourself included. And then congratulate me when I do not falter.’ He leapt several metres up into a tree to add to the drama of his statement.

Lotan smiled reluctantly. ‘I think your arrogance is your fatal flaw, Colt.’

Colt sat haughtily on a sturdy tree branch, his legs dangling over the edge. ‘You know that I’m unsurpassed,’ he smirked, looking down upon Lotan. ‘A nuisance girl would never side-track me from my duty to the coven.’

‘Unsurpassed?’ Lotan repeate
d, his tone brightening. ‘I believe you like to
think
you’re unsurpassed, but you’re still a far cry from me! That is why I lead and you follow, brother,’ he teased.

Colt grinned. ‘Is that so?’ he replied in jest. ‘Perhaps one day you and I should duel,’ he mused. ‘Pit ourselves against one another and see who fairs best.’

‘Ha!’ Lotan laughed robustly.

‘Ha, indeed,’ Colt returned with a wry smile. He dropped down from the tree branch,
pouncing to the ground and disturbing a cluster of dry leaves.

‘Move
yourself, Colt,’ Lotan ordered, giving him a hearty clip around the ear. ‘I want the entire perimeter covered by nightfall.’

‘Well, seeing as though you asked so nicely…’
Colt smiled at the pleasure of using Mia’s very words.

‘Go, boy!’ Lotan exclaimed.

Colt sped off through the trees, faster than any human or animal. He returned his focus to his role as a Hunter – because it would have been perilous not to.

The hours passed slowly and Colt did what was required of him. He guarded and secured the forest boundaries like a lion defending its lair. But all the while he clutched the catkin in his palm, grateful for its company.

And then, just when he thought he had made it through another day, the first drops of rain began, and it broke him. For it wasn’t normal everyday precipitation. It was
her
rain – Mia’s rain. It was saturated with her scent and spilling relentlessly from the bulging purple rain clouds.

Colt recoiled in anguish. He pressed his body flat against a tree trunk, desperate to shelter himself from the onslaught of water. But there was no escape. The droplets trickled over his face and body, soaking his hair and clothes. Like a wounded soldier, he crumpled to the ground in defeat. He trembled as the drops of rain rolled over on to his lips and leaked into his mouth.

In a desperate attempt at fighting it, he used his power to command the water away from him. But it was too great to combat: he could not keep up with the downpour.

For the first time in his life, Colt was scared.

In the solitude of the library, Dino slouched in an armchair, staring off into space. He felt like he hadn’t slept in weeks. And perhaps he hadn’t. In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure – it was such a blur. Each night Tol would call to him, and, like a devoted dog, Dino would comply. He would trudge miles along the forest borders until he reached Tol’s camp. Every night Tol would offer him power, and every night Dino would run from it.

But it wasn’t the exhaustion that had left him so dazed, because he was beyond tired. It was the confusion. Somewhere along the way, he had lost sight of everything. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? He had even lost sight of who he was. It was as though he existed solely for the purpose of his nightly conflict with Tol. And gradually, he could feel Tol’s presence taking up roots in his subconscious, whittling away until Dino was too weak to fight any more.

Numb, Dino wondered if giving in was really such a bad idea. Why was he resisting anyway? Tol had been right – Dino was craving the dark power to be bestowed on him. And in a warped, senseless way, he sometimes actually found himself looking forward to standing on the triangular symbol and absorbing its phenomenal energy. After all, during those few brief minutes per night, he was a god.

‘I think I’ve got something,’ Blue’s voice jolted Dino out of his reverie.

‘Huh?’ Dino glanced at him, only mildly interested.

‘Read this.’ Blue thrust an open book into his friend’s hands.

Dino grimaced. ‘Do I have to read it? I’m tired.’

‘OK.’ Blue rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll read it to you.’ He took the book back.

‘Whatever,’ Dino yawned. He propped his feet up on the apothecary table. The disused library had become more of a bedroom than his own room was.

Blue cleared his throat. ‘“Coven Laws,” he read the heading aloud: ‘“Young witches’ powers are
undecided until they are sealed. However, unless a witch has been born into a Hunter coven, it is most likely that those who lived as civilians will settle as Arcana. In some cases there is ambiguity, as the use of power is always free-willed, and occasionally a witch will choose to cross over. Any coven – Hunter or Arcana – can offer a place to whomever they desire. But their offer must be accepted willingly. To deflect an unwanted request, the sought-after witch must perform a ritual of refusal. Through this ritual, the witch is protected from unwelcome advances, spells, or attacks commanded by their opponent…”’

Dino closed his eyes, barely listening. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that there’s a ritual to protect you from Tol,’ Blue explained. ‘And it also says here that a Hunter can’t p-prey on hallowed ground. Do you understand what that means?’

‘Nope.’

‘Dino, the Glass Castle is hallowed ground! It belongs to Wendolyn. It means that Tol is magically bound from harming Mia while she’s on Wendolyn’s land. I’m guessing that there’s a pretty big chance he was making empty threats in a ploy to lure you into his coven. We’ve got him!’ Blue cheered.