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The Witches of the Dark Power Page 5


  ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s all right. I only need a moment . . .’ He closed his eyes, then opened them again a second later. ‘I’m all right. Watch.’ To Mia’s surprise, he closed the gap between them. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, lightly kissing the broken skin.

  Mia gasped. ‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ she asked as he held her hand to his lips. There had been a time when Colt had become virtually animal by even so much as the sight of blood.

  ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time with you, darling,’ he offered with a smirk, ‘it’s tolerance.’

  ‘Likewise,’ Mia remarked wryly.

  ‘And so you have returned to me, bringing with you a black raincloud of doom and twice the workload. Have I mentioned how pleased I am to see you?’ he teased.

  Mia grinned. ‘Likewise.’

  Later that evening, Wendolyn called a meeting in the drawing room. As the Arcana filed in, Wendolyn busied herself lighting candles to offset the room’s darkness. Isaac and Roland chose seats together at the front of the room. They were both dressed smartly, with rigid postures and uptight expressions. They muttered back and forth between one another, occasionally casting cantankerous glances to the back of the room where paper rustled as Blue tried to find a blank page in his jam-packed notebook. Beside Blue, Dino lounged on the sofa, engrossed in the task of balancing his pen on his nose. Mia took a seat on the sofa between Dino and Blue.

  Amos was the last Arcana to make an entrance. He carried a tray stacked with white china teacups and was followed by two teenaged boys. Amos gestured for the boys to take a seat while he placed the tray on one of the larger tables. He handed Wendolyn a china teacup from the tray, then took his own seat.

  ‘Thank you, Amos,’ she said. ‘And thank you all for coming.’ Smiling warmly, she glanced at each of the faces in the room. ‘I’d like to welcome two new friends to the Glass Castle, Jonathan and Demetrius.’

  All eyes landed on the two boys sitting on either side of Amos.

  ‘Jonathan is a specialist in enchanted herbs and ancient potions,’ Wendolyn informed, nodding amiably at the blonde boy before her. ‘He is one of the most accomplished Arcana I have ever had the privilege of knowing.’

  At that, Isaac shot a fierce look across the room at the new Arcana arrival. He hissed something inaudible into Roland’s ear, and Roland proceeded to shake his head and shower his friend with hushed ego-soothing praises.

  ‘And Demetrius is an exceptional Hunter,’ Wendolyn added.

  The darker-haired boy gave a controlled, emotionless bow of his head, acknowledging the compliment without being humbled by it.

  Mia studied them from her seat at the back of the room. The blonde boy, Jonathan, sat placidly, listening and observing with quiet curiosity. Demetrius, on the other hand, didn’t seem quite so mild in manner. He was the archetype of a Hunter, alert and tense. His jet-black hair had been cropped nearly to the scalp, and his bulging muscles crept all the way up to his neck so that the collar of his black fitted T-shirt was stretched to its maximum capacity.

  All of a sudden, as if sensing her gaze, Jonathan the Arcana craned his neck and looked back at her. He smiled.

  Mia blushed, embarrassed to have been caught staring. She summoned a smile in response, then pretended to become engrossed in Blue’s notes.

  ‘Now,’ Wendolyn went on, ‘we are all here to unite against a common enemy: a malevolent witch. As you know, one of our own has been exposed as being protected by the Arx.’

  Mia felt all eyes in the room fall on her, and the flush in her cheeks deepened.

  ‘Visions tell us that she is being targeted, and we must work together so as to ensure her safety until we can find and perform the ritual to break the Arx force-field,’ Wendolyn continued. ‘Has anyone come across anything useful in the Arcana Tomes?’

  The room fell silent.

  ‘Not to worry,’ Wendolyn relieved her audience. ‘Amos and I were aware that searching the books would be a long and extensive process. I can only continue to assure you that we will come across it sooner or later. In the meantime, we must pull together to secure the castle from intruders.’

  Just then, the drawing room door opened and a gust of wind toyed with the candle flames.

  ‘Hello,’ Wendolyn greeted the late arrivals. ‘Welcome.’

  Mia, along with the rest of the room, turned to see the newcomers. The first to enter the room were the two new resident Hunters at the Glass Castle. Of course she recognised Finn from her earlier encounter; he was stocky with a matted mane of dark curls. The second boy was young, too, but taller and broader than Finn. His hair had been shaved, and he walked with his head lowered in a sullen bow. The twosome moved into the shadows at the back of the room and stood side by side.

  Next to enter the room was Siren, whom Mia recognised from the previous summer. In comparison to the first two boys, Siren looked older and stronger, with angular features and short oak-brown hair. He took his post beside the younger boys while they waited for the arrival of their coven leader.

  And when Colt finally appeared a few moments later, there was no doubting why he was their leader. His walk was bold and self-assured. It was clear that he was somehow expertly assessing the room without breaking his line of vision. There was something limitless in his deep-green eyes, like he could do anything. Or be anything. It was feral and challenging, as though a new side of him was showing itself. The leader in him had been awakened. His presence silenced the entire room.

  Colt’s eyes flickered to Mia for a fraction of a second—so brief that it was almost undetectable. It sent a bolt through her like she’d been struck by lightning; it was something precious and dangerous all at once. His gaze then settled on Wendolyn.

  And the meeting resumed.

  Once Wendolyn had concluded the assembly, the Hunters were the first to leave the drawing room. In keeping with formation, Colt led them out.

  Mia rose from her seat and made for the door. She was hoping to catch Colt before he disappeared with his coven. However, before she could intercept his path, someone intercepted hers.

  Jonathan, Amos’s Arcana, stepped in front of her. ‘Hi!’ he said, grinning broadly. Waves of ash-blonde hair curved around his ears in wisps. He was tanned, with an athletic build and a charming smile.

  ‘Hi,’ Mia replied, casting a glance over his shoulder towards the exit. Colt had paused in the doorway, lingering for a second longer than necessary before leading his coven out.

  ‘I wanted to properly introduce myself,’ Jonathan went on, offering his hand for her to shake. ‘Jonathan Woodworth.’

  Mia forced her gaze back to him. ‘Hi,’ she returned, accepting his hand. ‘I’m Mia Sayles.’

  Jonathan chuckled. ‘I know who you are, Mia. Listen,’ he continued conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a sympathetic murmur, ‘I know you’re probably really scared about . . . well, you know.’

  She frowned. ‘What?’

  ‘You know, the Arx,’ he clarified, his voice lowering yet again on the final word.

  ‘Oh.’ Mia was jolted back to reality. ‘Yes, it’s . . .’ she trailed off. What was it, exactly? ‘Bad,’ she decided. ‘Very bad.’ She glanced over Jonathan’s shoulder again. There was no sign of Colt in the hallway. He was probably long gone by now.

  Jonathan placed his hand on her arm. She stared down at it.

  ‘You’re going to be okay,’ he assured her. ‘This is going to be okay.’ His pale blue eyes shone with sincerity.

  ‘Okay,’ she replied, trying not to sound as preoccupied as she felt. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘No problem,’ Jonathan replied. ‘So,’ he went on, his tone lifting, ‘were you going somewhere?’

  She cast one more forlorn glance to the drawing room doorway. ‘No,’ she answered at last. ‘No, I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘Good.’ Jonathan broke into a wholesome smile. ‘Me, either.’

  Later that night, while the Hunters guarded the fores
t, the other residents settled in the library, working through the castle’s archive of books. Wendolyn was seated at her desk, while Mia, Dino, Blue, Jonathan, Isaac, and Roland had made themselves comfortable around the apothecary table to work their way through the latest pile of books.

  ‘Back at the Lighthouse,’ Johnathan was saying to the others circling the apothecary table, ‘I was Amos’s go-to guy for research.’ He gave a cheery smile. ‘I won’t let you down, fellas! And lady,’ he added for Mia’s benefit.

  She smiled.

  Isaac’s expression darkened. ‘You may have been number one at the Lighthouse,’ he said in a clipped voice, ‘but you’re at the Glass Castle now.’

  Roland nodded in concurrence. ‘Isaac is unsurpassed in Arcana studies.’

  Dino raised an eyebrow. ‘Unsurpassed?’ he echoed. ‘Blue’s pretty good, too.’

  Isaac and Roland swapped a smirk.

  ‘Oh,’ said Johnathan in awe, ‘I’m honoured to be working alongside so many exceptional Arcana.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ Isaac replied haughtily, ‘I’m glad you’ll get the opportunity to learn from us during your visit.’ He over enunciated the word visit.

  The library door lurched open and Amos appeared with a refreshed tea tray.

  ‘I’m afraid this seems to be all I’m useful for at the moment,’ he joked. He set the tray on the apothecary table. ‘Honey and lemon,’ he said to no one in particular. ‘It’s a great soother.’

  Amos adjusted his reading glasses and began distributing the tea. He crossed the library to Wendolyn’s desk and offered her a drink. Wendolyn’s hands trembled as she reached for the cup and saucer that Amos was holding out for her.

  ‘This one’s especially for you, my dear,’ Amos said with a jovial wink, though his expression was clouded with concern. ‘You’re exhausted, aren’t you? Have my elixirs helped at all?’ His tone was already deflated.

  ‘Perhaps they have helped a little,’ Wendolyn replied kindly.

  Amos eyed her reproachfully. ‘Now I know you’re not being honest with me, madam.’

  Wendolyn offered him a weary smile. ‘I am tired,’ she admitted. ‘Although it’s nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix, I’m sure.’

  From across the room, Mia looked up from her book and glanced at Wendolyn. Amos had been right; Wendolyn’s complexion was ashen and dark shadows were hanging beneath her eyes. Naturally, Mia felt a stab of guilt. Wendolyn was tired because of her. Everyone was tired because of her.

  ‘Why don’t you retire to your chamber?’ Amos advised Wendolyn. ‘Rest for a while.’

  ‘No, no.’ Wendolyn nursed her teacup and took a juddering sip. ‘I’m perfectly well.’

  Amos cleared his throat. ‘You know,’ he said, his tone light yet adamant, ‘you are no good to us tired.’

  ‘I’m fine, Amos,’ she insisted tenderly. ‘I assure you, I’m fine.’

  ‘Even so . . .’ He took the teacup from her trembling hands. ‘A good night’s sleep is what you need, my dear. You said it yourself.’ He offered his arm to help her to her feet. ‘So, go,’ he said. ‘Sleep. Be well, please.’

  It was clear that Wendolyn could no longer argue. When she stood, she hunched forward, as though her spine ached too much to be held straight. She folded her hand over Amos’s arm. ‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Amos chuckled. ‘It’s time to concentrate on getting you well again,’ he urged as he escorted her to the door.

  All eyes were on Wendolyn as she left on Amos’s arm. There was something sombre about watching the elder woman depart. Something disheartening, as though they were watching an unbreakable wall crumble to dust.

  The library fell silent.

  A moment later, Amos returned. He took a seat at the desk and began rifling through the breast pocket of his blazer. Carefully he withdrew a little magnifying lens with an adjustable arm and attached it to his glasses, doubling the strength of his vision. Then, without a word, he retrieved Wendolyn’s discarded tome, licked his thumb, and picked up where she had left off.

  Mia stared into the crackling fire, watching the thick chunks of firewood blaze and spit. Black smoke wafted into the ash-covered chimney in a steady torrent.

  Wendolyn was sick. Everyone was exhausted, and they’d barely even scratched the surface of the castle’s books. What hope was there of finding the spell to break the Arx? Or, for that matter, of finding the ritual to steal the Arx in order to keep it out of malevolent hands—if it wasn’t already too late, that is.

  ‘Not even witchcraft can fix bad eyesight,’ a voice whispered in her ear.

  Mia jumped, startled out of her reverie. Jonathan had dropped into the empty chair beside her. He raised his eyebrows and nodded in Amos’s direction.

  Amos was busy attaching a second magnifier to his spectacles.

  ‘I’ve seen him put, like, six lenses on those glasses,’ Jonathan went on in a hushed voice, ‘and he still can’t see a thing.’

  Mia smiled. ‘Shh. He’ll hear you.’

  Jonathan leaned in a little closer. ‘Nah,’ he said with a shrug. ‘He’s deaf, too, poor sucker.’

  Mia laughed in spite of herself.

  ‘You’re a Tempestus, aren’t you?’ Jonathan asked, his voice still lowered so as not to disturb the others—although Isaac did throw a quick glare at them from across the apothecary table.

  Mia nodded in response.

  ‘I’m a Seer.’

  ‘Really? My friend Kizzy is a Seer,’ Mia told him. ‘She was here last summer.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Jonathan seemed overly pleased by that fact.

  ‘My aunt’s a Seer, too,’ Mia added.

  ‘It’s a cool power. That’s how I saw you, you know,’ he said. ‘It was in a dream one night. That’s when my visions come to me.’

  Mia’s brow creased ‘You saw me?’

  ‘Yeah. Didn’t you know? I was the first one to get a warning about the threat to steal the Arx.’

  Mia’s eyes widened. ‘What did you see?’

  ‘Well, I saw you, surrounded by a bright light—the Arx, of course—and then a dark shape drawing the light from you until you . . .’ he trailed off.

  Mia flinched. She didn’t need to hear the end of that sentence. ‘How did you know it was me?’ she asked.

  ‘I heard a voice. It kept saying your name over and over again. Mia Sayles, Mia Sayles. When I woke up I just knew I had to share the dream with Amos. So I told him about it straight away and we traced you here.’

  ‘You traced me to the castle?’ Mia asked, her stomach knotting at the thought.

  Jonathan nodded. ‘Amos knew your mother from way back when, so he figured the Sayles surname might still be connected to the Glass Castle, and’—he held up his palms and smiled—‘the rest is history.’

  Mia felt too shaken to smile back. ‘My aunt had a vision, too,’ she explained quietly. ‘I wonder how many more people know I’ve got the Arx.’ And that I’m hiding out here, she added silently.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Jonathan reassured her, ‘normally only Seers close to you would get a vision of you. It’s rare for a Seer to get a vision about a stranger.’

  ‘But you had a vision about it, and you didn’t know me,’ Mia pointed out.

  ‘True,’ Jonathan conceded. ‘But I have a theory.’ He blushed and grinned. ‘It’s dumb, really.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Mia urged.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, leaning in even closer. He met her eyes, biting his lip as he smiled. ‘I have this theory,’ he repeated, ‘that you and I are connected somehow, and that’s how I got the vision.’

  He laughed in jest, but his eyes held hers for a second too long. A significant second too long.

  It was Mia’s turn to blush. What had Jonathan meant by that remark? She stared down at the open book in her lap. There was something intense in Jonathan’s cool blue gaze, and she was suddenly aware of how closely they were sitting. The warmth of the fire began to f
eel too hot.

  ‘I’m glad Amos chose me to assist in this,’ Jonathan carried on, coaxing her eyes back to his. ‘I feel like I’m part of it, anyway.’

  Mia pushed her discomfort aside for the time being. ‘When did you have the vision?’ she asked tentatively. ‘How long ago?’

  ‘A couple of weeks ago, maybe. Then a few days after that, Wendolyn confirmed you were one of her Arcana and we started doing damage control. You know, making sure your name didn’t spread any further than the Glass Castle and the Lighthouse . . .’

  So that’s how Wendolyn knew, Mia pieced the information together.

  ‘. . . we were able to isolate it pretty quickly. When Roland came to the Lighthouse for Demetrius and me, I was so amped to be chosen to help.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Mia, all too aware that help meant spend the foreseeable future reading through the most boring books known to mankind. ‘I’m grateful that you actually want to help.’

  ‘Of course! I mean, it’s no big deal. It’s not all work, anyway. I’ve always wanted to come to the Glass Castle. The Hunters at the Lighthouse have been before, but Amos has never brought an Arcana. I’m the first.’ He glowed with pride.

  Across the table, Isaac let out a snort before roughly turning the page of his book and glaring down at the text.

  ‘Well, it’s good of you to come,’ said Mia, ignoring the sporadic dagger stares from Isaac.

  A small smile played on Jonathan’s lips. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Hey, maybe later, after we’ve finished up in here, do you want to do something? Maybe you could show me around.’

  She hesitated. Show him around?

  The library door creaked open, cutting their conversation short.

  In a rush of cool air, Colt stepped into the room. The candle flames wavered and flickered around him. He looked at Jonathan, then at Mia, then finally at Amos.

  Amos glanced up from his book and flipped up the removable lenses on his glasses.

  ‘The forest is secure for tonight,’ Colt told him in a low, husky voice. ‘No sign of intruders.’