The Witch in the Mirror – Part 43

Ailis ran until her feet were sore. She was deep into the forest now, further than she’d ever been before. Every now and then she had to stop, leaning against a tree and panting until she had gotten her breath back. The forest stretched on and on around the edge of the lake, further than she could ever have imagined.

Surely she had lost the soldiers by now. They had nearly caught her this time. She was merely floating, just like she did every day when she could sneak away from her chores. She stood on the rock at the edge of the lake and just let herself hover in the air. She never went too far or too high. She didn’t want anyone seeing her or discovering she had magic. It was peaceful in the air. She felt more like herself—where she could imagine she was secretly a princess rather than just a blacksmith’s daughter.

But this time she had gotten careless and had drifted lazily toward the treetops. That is when she first saw the men in black cloaks. She had heard all about these men that wore black cloaks. The villagers were all terrified of them. And the worst of the lot was that sergeant with the scar on his left cheek. Three jagged lines—almost like someone had scratched him viciously, or in desperation, Ailis thought. She had made the mistake of looking up as he rode through the village once. He had stared at her with those dead eyes as though he wanted to devour her.

When Ailis saw the horsemen through the trees she quickly returned to the ground and started to run. She knew she could have flown away from them but she couldn’t be seen in the air.

Ailis heard a noise and began to run again. Her plan was to circle back around to the village and return by the coastal path. As Ailis neared the village she stopped running. She ran her hands over her skirt and blouse to straighten it and adjusted the scarf around her hair. She stopped by a wild apple tree and filled her basket. It would be a ready excuse if anybody stopped her. She tried to calm the fear in her stomach.

The sun rose high in the sky when she caught the scent of wood smoke from the village. Ailis heaved a sigh of relief. Just over the next rise and she would be back in the village safe and sound.

Ailis left the forest and walked across the field of heath that ran down to the beach. In the distance she could see the village’s fishing boats bobbing on the open sea. They wouldn’t return until evening with their catch.

She could hear hammering from the blacksmith’s forge and she smiled. It wasn’t so bad being the blacksmith’s daughter. It could have been worse. Bryn was a highly respected artisan in the village and that afforded Ailis more freedom from menial chores than some of the other girls her age.

Ailis took an apple from her basket and was just about to take a bite when she saw the four horsemen blocking her path.

‘You there. Girl. Stop.’

Ailis shuddered when she saw it was the man with the scar. She was frozen to the spot.

‘What business do you have out here? We have been hunting a young girl seen in the forest. What do you have to say for yourself?’

‘I—I was just fetching apples. To make my Da a pie.’ She tried to control the nervousness in her voice.

‘A likely story. Who is your da?’

‘The—the blacksmith—Bryn—the blacksmith.’

The sergeant looked at her more closely, searching her face. His black gloved hand involuntarily stroked the scars on his cheek.

‘How old are you, girl?’

Ailis felt tears well into her eyes but forced them back down. The pendant between her breasts was turning hot.

‘Just take her here, Hom. Nobody need ever know.’ The second horsemen leered at her. Ailis fought back the urge to wet herself.

‘This little one is not worth your effort.’

A woman appeared behind the horsemen. Hom turned in his saddle to see who dared address the black cloaks. It was just another peasant woman. Hom drew his sword. The sun glinted wickedly on the blade. He smiled viciously to feel its familiar weight in his hand.

‘Why don’t you go about your business, old woman, before I slay you right here.’

‘You don’t want to kill anyone today.’ She moved her hand from under her cloak. ‘Return to your camp.’

Hom looked at her uncertainly for a moment before sheathing his sword.

‘Come, men. Let us return to camp. We will take the wench another day.’

He glared at the woman and turned his horse. The four men rode away in a cloud of dust.

Ailis collapsed to her knees with shock.

The woman cupped her hand around Ailis’ chin and raised the girl to her feet.

‘Run home, child. You need to take more care with your gift. It’s not your time yet, but soon.’

Ailis looked questioningly into the woman’s eyes. They were dark but flecked with blue, like snowflakes.

‘Go.’

Ailis found her feet moving quickly toward the village. She looked back over her shoulder.

The woman was gone.

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The Witch in the Mirror – Part 42

Bea was in a good mood when she woke next morning. It was early but being a Saturday there was no need to dress and rush off to school. Outside she could hear the birds were waking. Bea yawned and rolled over to look at the ceiling. Everything in her room was familiar and comfortable. The dressing table and mirror, the clothes rack that held her dresses and her school bag was in the corner where she had tossed it last night.

She lay still with her eyes open and went through the events of the pat week. Her ankle still hurt a little but she had been able to walk on it. Josh had been so sweet coming over to see if she was okay. But what was up with Emily?

Bea sighed and slid to the edge of the bed. She walked over to the window. The sky was a pretty shade of pink this early in the morning. Over the garden Bea could see sunlight just hitting the spire of St Brigid’s Church peaking over the treetops. From a distance she could hear waves crashing on the beach. The tide must be in ― that’s when the waves sounded loudest. A ribbon of mist hung in the air above the beach. The morning’s stillness reminded her of something, but as usual it hung tantalisingly out of reach.

She picked up her dress and tiptoed across to the bathroom. She didn’t want to wake her grandmother so early. Bea dressed by the light coming softly through the window. She walked barefoot down the stairs to the front door. Bea paused for a moment to listen, but the cottage was silent. She closed the door softly behind her and filled her lungs with fresh morning air. It made her feel alive. The grass was damp and cold on her bare feet. She smiled and thought how her grandmother would scold if she knew. ‘You’ll catch your death of cold, child,’ Gramma would say. Bea walked across the garden to the gate that led down to the beach. She enjoyed being on her own. The day was starting to brighten. Bea paused at the top of the stairs and watched the waves. It was so peaceful.

She followed the path that led down from the back of the cottage. Small pebbles crunched under her feet as Bea reached the beach. The walk along the shoreline was her favourite and she headed toward the rocks at the northern end of the beach. Fishing boats were pulled up on the shore, turned upside down and strewn with drying fishing nets.

Bea knew she had been here before—some time ages ago. She just didn’t know when. The sound of the waves crashing against the pebbles reminded her of something she couldn’t quite remember. It was just another dim memory from somewhere in her past. As she made her way around the upturned fishing boats she turned and looked back toward the cottage at the top of the slope. A curl of smoke was rising from the chimney and Bea thought about her grandmother inside. She hoped she hadn’t disturbed her.

Bea moved further along the beach, reaching the tumble of rocks along the edge. She lifted her skirt and tenderly climbed amongst the rocks, carefully placing her feet away from the slippery moss.

It was then she heard the voices ― two male voices coming from a cave at the bottom of the cliff. One of the voices sounded cultured, aristocratic, while the other was a gruff seaman’s voice.

‘Don’t worry, m’lord. We can slip in under darkness and nobody will know anythin’ ‘bout it. You can trust us, m’lord.’

‘Very good, Wells. The French ship will anchor offshore next Sunday night. There will be a package to be collected from me at the manor. Do you think you can manage that?’

Bea crouched down behind a rock. She wasn’t used to coming across people on the beach. She thought of it as her beach. Her heart was racing. She was sure she recognised one of the voices, but she didn’t know anybody in Nangle, did she?

‘This package is very valuable but also delicate. You must take good care of it. The French captain will know what to do once you have her ― it, the package ― on board. Tell the captain I will follow next se’nnight and payment will be made in full once I know the package has been delivered. Do you have all that, Wells? You know what will happen if you fail me.’

‘Yes sir. Sunday night it is, to be sure. You can count on me, sir. I won’t fail you. That’s a promise.’

‘Go carefully with your promises, my friend. Just deliver the message and be ready for the package.’

The voices fell silent for a moment. Bea strained her ears to hear. Cautiously she peaked around the rocks to find the small cave was empty. There was no-one there.

The Witch in the Mirror – Part 41

The mountain peaks were shrouded by mist at this time of year. The sun was a soft golden globe hanging low in the sky and the water of the stream was cold and grey. All was quiet except for the faint sound of a girl’s voice singing as she made her way along the path toward the stream.

Ailis’ heart was full of love and her face shone in the dull morning light. Only last night Rogan had proposed to her and she had been breathless as she replied with a whispered ‘yes’.

She had woken early in the morning so she could get all of her errands done before her father returned from his blacksmith’s forge to have breakfast. She wanted to put him in a good mood for when Rogan comes to ask for her hand.

Ailis stopped to pick some wildflowers and placed them in her hair. She walked with a light-hearted step and smiled as she thought about the secret kisses Rogan had showered her with last night. She was excited to think of being the first of her friends in the village to be married. Most of them still hadn’t even held hands with a boy yet.

She reached the edge of the lake and stooped to fill the heavy wooden bucket. As water streamed over the edge of the bucket she struggled to lift it again, when a rough hand closed over hers. She turned with surprise as Rogan placed his lips against hers and the bucket fell back into the water.

‘Rogan, look what you’ve made me do!’ The bucket had begun to sink and Ailis pouted with her hands on her hips.

‘You are out early my love. I was hoping I might catch you before I saw your father.’

‘You will catch it if my father sees you with me.’ Her laugh was musical and Rogan grasped her around the waist and kissed her again.

‘Stop that,’ she squealed. ‘What about my bucket?’

Rogan bent to retrieve the sunken bucket. ‘Come, my sweet. You have work to do.’ He took Ailis’ hand and together they walked back toward the village.

The village was nestled around a small, windswept cove. Through the mist could be heard the roar of dark waves crashing on the pebbly beach. A path led away from the village toward the mountains where the shepherds took their flocks during the warmer months when the grass was flush and green. But they returned to the valley farms when the autumn mists began to descend.

Rogan was one of the shepherds and he had recently returned from several months in the mountains. But there was wasn’t much to occupy a shepherd during the winter months and he spent his days finding excuses to be alone with Ailis.

Ailis looked at him secretly as they strolled along the country path. He had wild black hair that shaded his mysterious eyes. Those eyes always seemed to be looking straight through her and Ailis shivered every time their gaze met. She never knew what he was thinking, but she felt hypnotised by his eyes; trapped by his gaze like a frightened deer; stripped naked so that he could see her soul — and then the spell would be broken by his rough kiss.

As they reached the door of Ailis’ cottage, Rogan bent to kiss her again.

‘No more until you have spoken to father,’ she said. Rogan grinned and Ailis curtseyed as she slipped through the door into the white washed cottage. Ailis closed the door and leaned against it with closed eyes and sighed. She had never been so happy and now all her dreams were coming true.

She pushed a lock of hair back into place and began to tidy the kitchen and prepare breakfast. The cottage was simple as befitted a blacksmith, but Ailis always kept it neat and tidy. She had been the housekeeper since her mother had passed away. Ever since then it had just been Ailis and her father.

Rogan stayed outside the door of the cottage for a moment, listening to Ailis singing as she worked inside. He picked up a stone and began tossing it in the air and catching it again. The ringing of the blacksmith’s hammer on the anvil punctuated the peaceful village air and Rogan turned away from the forge. Now is not the time to face the blacksmith, he decided.

Book review – Ink by Alice Broadway

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Ink was such an interesting book that I was captured immediately. In the world of Ink a person’s every action is tattooed on their skin. I had to close my eyes to imagine what this must look like – actually, Ink would make a fabulous graphic novel. While I have never even thought about getting a tattoo this premise of the novel made it sound like such a beautiful concept. I couldn’t stop thinking about what tattoo would represent my story.

But then there was the sadness. The book started out with Leora mourning the loss of her dad, and this thread ran through the entire novel. At the end of their life a person’s skin was flayed (didn’t want to think about that for too long!) and turned into a book of their life, tattoo’s and all. The trouble begins when your story needs to be assessed by the government (never a good thing!) and there seemed to be something wrong with Leora’s dad’s story.

As if dealing with her loss wasn’t bad enough, Leora had to learn some things about her dad that might mean he wasn’t the perfect guy she thought he was. And what did that mean for Leora herself?

There were dystopian undertones to this novel, although I felt it wasn’t so strong that I would call it a dystopian novel. All the right ingredients were there – an overbearing government, too much public scrutiny of individual actions and lack of privacy, severe consequences for stepping out of line, and, of course, outsiders that had been banished from society and treated as a threat to the proper order of things. These people were the ‘blanks’. They didn’t have tattoos. Their skins were unblemished and for this they were hated by the society of Ink. To be a blank was the worst thing in the world so what if you found yourself sympathising with the blanks?

There were also religious undertones. Throughout the novel Leora questioned her beliefs. Everything she had ever been told might well be a lie. What if her dad had committed some crime? What if she didn’t want her story written on her skin? What if she wasn’t who she thought she was?

I was surprised by the ending (which is a good thing) but at the end of the novel I wasn’t quite sure what message Alice was trying to convey. I think it is okay to question your beliefs, to search for your true self and what is most important to give your life meaning. Perhaps it’s that the people who are different from you are not so different and not as bad as they seem.

I hope there is more to come from Alice Broadway. She is such a beautiful atmospheric writer. I know I wanted more of Leora’s world. Perhaps an Ink 2 where Leora discovers more about her true self by moving out of the confines of her society.

Fantastic book. You should definitely read it!

The Witch in the Mirror – Part 37

The day of the fireworks started out fine and sunny after a week of rain. Late in the afternoon people began to gather on the lawns in front of the school. The ruins of Pemblebury Castle provided a medieval backdrop to the night’s entertainment. A stage was setup in front of the school steps and the band members were slowly arriving and unpacking their instruments.

Emily and Bea spent the afternoon wandering around the shopping centre before going back to Emily’s apartment to get ready. Neither bothered to dress up so it didn’t take long to have showers and then get back into their usual clothes.

The two girls walked the couple of blocks to the school and Bea could already hear the band warming up as they came through the school gate. It was a mixture of orchestral instruments and modern electric guitars and drums. The air was filled with the sound of excited chatter punctuated by instruments being tuned. The notes from a piano solo drifted on the breeze to where Bea stood with Emily looking for a spot to put a blanket. She wondered if Josh would be there with his cello. The sound was kind of cool and Bea found herself relaxing as Emily found a spot on the grass toward the back of the square.

Emily spread the blanket on the ground and then sat with her arms cradled around her knees. She turned and smiled as Bea sat next to her. ‘I’m really glad we came, Bea.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Bea smiled back.

Emily rested her head on her knees and she hummed in time with the music. The band had launched into a rendition of ‘Running in the Shadows’ and the sounds of electric guitar and drums filled the air. Emily watched Bea’s curly red hair spilling over her shoulders and wondered about the reason Bea had asked her to come.

Emily touched the locket around her neck. She could feel it tingling and it gave her confidence. A small smile danced across her lips. She felt the chill in the air against her arms but the warmth radiating from the locket kept her from the cold.

She looked over the crowd. Anar and Heather were sitting amongst a group of boys. They were drinking from plastic bottles but Emily guessed what was really in there. Anar was wearing a short black dress. Her shoulders and arms were bare. ‘She must be freezing,’ Emily thought to herself.

Bea turned and saw Emily’s darkened face. She laughed, ‘What are you thinking?’

‘Nothing.’ Emily looked away. She couldn’t look at Bea anymore without feeling butterflies in her stomach. She wished she hadn’t come tonight after all.

Heather and Anar walked toward them, whispering together. Anar laughed as she stopped in front of Bea and Emily.

‘Shouldn’t you witches be home boiling your faces in a cauldron?’

‘Yours is the only face that will boil.’ Emily’s face glowered. Bea touched her arm.

‘They’re not worth it, Em.’

‘Come on, Heather. Let’s leave these lovebirds to themselves.’

Bea’s face went red and she quickly pulled her hand away from Emily’s arm. Emily blinked back her tears. This was becoming the worst night of her life. She hugged her knees tighter and rested her head on her forearm. It still tingled from where Bea’s hand had touched her.

‘Don’t worry about them. They’re just evil.’

Overhead the sky began to fill with darkening clouds. Bea was worried about her friend’s mood swings. She seemed to be getting gloomier than ever lately.

Bea closed her eyes and let the music wash over her. She lost track of time. Then she felt Bea’s fingertips accidently brush gently against hers. It was like an electric shock ran up her arm. Emily quickly opened her eyes but Bea was still in the same position, rocking in time to the music. She looked down at her hand on the blanket. Maybe she had just imagined it.

Emily glanced at her friend’s face again, trying to guess what she was thinking. Floodlights from the stage cast a shadow across half her face. She followed the direction of Bea’s eyes to the stage where Josh was sitting with a cello between his legs. The music slowed and the electric guitars were replaced by a slow and sensuous rhythm on the cello. Emily ground her teeth together. She felt depressed again. If only she could make that love spell work.

Josh was bent forward and long curls tumbled across his face, just the way he looked in the music room. The tune reached out to Bea and she felt each note punctuating her breathing. Suddenly she realised she was standing and swaying in time with the music. Emily watched her from the blanket for a moment and then stood and joined her.

Bea looked at Emily and smiled dreamily but she didn’t smile back. Her eyes looked sad, but Bea didn’t really give her another thought because she was so absorbed by the music coming from Josh’s cello. Suddenly she felt herself floating again. There was mist and she could see the mountaintop from her dream. The dark-haired woman was holding her hand out to Bea. ‘It’s time. We need you.’ And then she was falling, falling, falling.

‘Bea, are you okay?’ Emily’s voice sounded concerned. She was near tears.

‘I guess—I just fell. I think I need to get a drink of water.’

‘You stay here, Bea. I’ll go and get it for you.’

Before she could protest Emily had disappeared into the crowd. Nobody else seemed to have noticed her falling. She sat on the blanket and tried to control her breathing. Then she heard a cough.

‘Are you okay?’

Bea looked up to see Josh standing above her.

‘Oh, yeah. Sure. I’m fine.’

‘I saw you fall from the stage. You were just dancing and then suddenly you were on the ground. I thought you might have hurt yourself.’

‘I’m fine. I guess I just tripped.’

Josh knelt down on the grass beside the blanket. ‘Your ankle looks swollen. Do you mind if I have a look at it?’

Suddenly Josh’s fingers were gently lifting her foot. ‘Does this hurt?’

‘Ouch, yes.’

‘I don’t think it’s broken. You must have twisted it as you fell.’

Bea could still feel his fingers around her foot and she looked up into his eyes. She felt a sharp shock run through her body.

‘I got you a drink, Bea.’ Bea looked up to see Emily standing there with a bottle of water. She wasn’t smiling anymore.

‘Oh, thanks, Em. You remember Josh—from class?’

‘Yeah, sure. Hi, Josh.’

‘Why don’t you join us?’

‘Oh, thanks, but I have to get back. I’m on again soon.’

Emily sat back down on the blanket as Bea watched Josh disappear into the crowd. Emily handed her the bottle of water.

‘What was that all about?’

‘Oh, nothing, I guess. He said he saw me fall.’

‘So why were his hands all over you?’

‘I hurt my ankle. He was checking it out.’

‘Yeah, that’s what it looked like.’ Her voice was harsh.

‘What’s the matter, Em?’

‘Nothing. The fireworks should be starting soon.’

Emily brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. She wished they had never come tonight.

The Witch in the Mirror – Part 36

‘I know what you need, Bea.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A real solution to your problem.’
Bea blinked. She looked at Emily sitting across from her.
‘Which of my problems are you talking about?’
She took a sip from a can of soft drink. It still tasted strange to her. She didn’t know why.
Emily sat at the table with a notepad in front of her.
‘We need to get some things.’
She began to make a list:

Candles – red and black
Flowers
Incense – other magic stuff

Emily wasn’t really sure what she was doing but she was trying to make it up to Bea for dredging into her past. She had an idea but Emily thought if she could sneak in a memory spell as well then everything would be perfect.
Bea sighed. She didn’t believe in any of this magic stuff, but she wanted to humour her friend. Bea thought about Josh. She knew Emily didn’t like him but she couldn’t help being drawn to him. Josh had invited her to hear him play at the Fireworks Spectacular. He said he had been playing for several years but this was his biggest event yet. Bea wondered if what she felt for Josh was something more than just friendship.

Bea talked Emily into going with her to the Fireworks Spectacular. The school band was playing and it was meant to be a huge party. At first Emily didn’t want to go. She said she would feel out of place.
‘It’s not my scene either, Em, but I really want to go. Won’t you please come with me?’
She kept pleading so much that in the end Emily decided it wouldn’t hurt if she went just this once. Gwen was worried but agreed that Bea could stay overnight with Emily and catch the early bus home in the morning.
Bea answered fervently, ‘That makes me so happy.’ She laid her hand on Emily’s and looked cheerfully into her face.
Emily blushed but couldn’t bring herself to pull her hand away.
‘We should get back to the assignment.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Bea couldn’t stop smiling as she pulled the chemistry book out of her bag.
The evening passed quickly until Emily began to get restless again. ‘Would you like something to eat?’
‘No, I’m fine. Thanks.’
‘Okay, well I’m just going to make a cup of tea.’
‘I guess I should be going.’
‘Oh no, please—don’t go.’

The Witch in the Mirror – Part 27

A few days later Beatrice sat in a cafe after school with Emily. They were meant to be putting the finishing touches on their chemistry assignment but neither girl was focused on her schoolwork as they waited for their coffees to be served. Beatrice could feel Emily looking at her thoughtfully. She pretended to be thinking about the assignment but her thoughts were on that haunting tune.

‘How about—’

‘Who is—’ They both began at the same time and stopped and laughed.

‘You go,’ Beatrice said.

Emily took a deep breath.

‘No, you go first.’

‘I was thinking about Anar and why she doesn’t like you.’

Emily’s face dropped.

‘I think she knows you’re afraid of her.’

‘I’m not afraid of her. She’s just mean.’

Emily didn’t want to argue about it.

Beatrice let it drop and went back to reading the textbook.

The two girls sat in silence for a few minutes as the waitress placed their cups on the table.

‘Will that be all,’ she drawled.

‘No thanks, we’re good,’ Beatrice replied. She dipped a spoon in the sugar bowl and began stirring her coffee.

‘So do you really not remember anything from before?’ Emily suddenly blurted out.

‘Nothing.’ Beatrice’s voice was flat.

Emily saw the look on Beatrice’s face. She knew Beatrice didn’t like talking about it and wanted to change the subject. She was never comfortable talking about herself.

‘I’m sorry, Beatrice. It’s just—well, I looked up a newspaper article about the accident. I thought it might prompt your memory. Maybe you need help.’

‘Gramma says I’m fine, it’s just the trauma. But then I have these—’ She was about to say dreams but she didn’t know if she was ready to share that with Emily. Beatrice was even wondering if she should have told Emily about her memory loss.

‘It’s just that, you know, the article doesn’t say anything about you.’ Emily pushed a newspaper clipping across the table.

 

The notorious stretch of road across the Pennines has taken another two lives. A vehicle driving east toward the Pennine Pass left an icy stretch of road at approximately 2:00 to 3:00 am Sunday night. The overturned vehicle was discovered but both the driver and passenger were pronounced dead by the time paramedics arrived. Police have withheld the names of the victims until relatives can be advised.

 

Beatrice finished reading and put the newspaper clipping down.

‘So? Maybe it was the wrong accident.’

‘But look at the date, Beatrice. It’s the same one you said your accident was.’

‘Maybe it’s just coincidence.’ She shrugged. Beatrice didn’t want to think about it. ‘Are you saying Gramma lied to me?’

‘Have you talked to her?’

‘Of course I have. She says I’m not ready.’ Beatrice twisted the coffee cup in her hand. Emily placed her hand on Beatrice’s forearm.

‘I think you should get professional help. It’s not normal to lose your memory. I’ve been researching about that too.’

Emily reached across the table and squeezed Beatrice’s hand.

‘I’m sorry, Bea. I didn’t mean to make you cry.’

The Witch in the Mirror – Part 26

Josh felt the magic as soon as his fingers stroked the maple neck of the cello. His mother had promised him a new instrument for passing his theory exams. Up until then he had to be satisfied with practicing on one of the old cellos that belonged to the school. Josh had been obsessed with the cello for years. While the other boys were out chasing footballs around the playground he had immersed himself in learning everything he could about this wonderful instrument.

Now he had his own cello and he took care of it like it was a new born baby. He ran his fingers over the instrument again and felt a thrill run up his arm. He held the bow in the other hand, waiting so he could savour this moment like he always did. He could feel the tension build in his body with the cello pressed against his legs and his fingers stroking its neck.

Josh closed his eyes and drew the bow across the strings again. Just three notes that sang with yearning and desire. He stopped and scribbled on the blank music page and then played a few more notes. He had a week to hand in a draft of this piece to his music teacher, but he wanted to make sure it was perfect. Josh always wanted it to be perfect.

The strings vibrated under his bow. When he closed his eyes Josh could hear the entire piece. Just relax and play. Getting lost in the moment was something Josh was good at. All of the tension washed out of his body and music filled the room as he worked himself to a peak.

The Witch in the Mirror – Part 25

Princess Alyce slammed the book shut. She had been reading it all night but all she found was frustration. All she had been able to do was cast an enchantment on the castle that protected it—and her—from the king. For now anyway.

What she had learned about breaking the king’s enchantment of Alexandria was another thing completely. She just didn’t have the power. Not on her own. If she had both her sisters they would be strong enough. But Meaghan was out of reach and Katharine had simply disappeared.

Alyce was furious with her older sister. At the first sign of trouble she just flew away without leaving word or staying to help her younger sisters.

She opened the book again. Hushed whispers rose from the pages. So many voices trying to tell her what to do, but she didn’t know which ones to listen to.

A breeze blew through the door and the pages of the book began flipping over. Alyce sat back and watched until they stopped. She leant forward and began reading.

If she needed more power she would get more power. Whatever it takes.

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