Black Wood (A Witch Rising) (3 page)

Emily felt a sudden need to
start writing. She fought the need, but couldn't stop thinking
about it. The more she resisted, the more she felt compelled.
Aurelie had said the diary belonged to Emily now. She could do
whatever she wanted with it. She opened the top drawer of her white
desk and fished for a pen. Propping a pillow up behind her on the
bed, she made herself comfy, then started writing, the words
flowing easily as though a voice guided her.

She chewed on her pen, thinking,
until the exact words formed in her mind. She lowered the pen to
the paper and scribbled, letting the words flow before she forgot
them again. After a while she dropped the pen on the quilt, closed
the diary and let out a big breath. Stretching her arms she yawned,
relieved to find the voice in her head stopped nagging. She jumped
off the bed and placed the book back in its box.

When her clock struck seven,
Emily skipped to the bathroom and ran a warm bubble bath while she
brushed her teeth. She sighed as she stepped into the sudsy water.
Sam wasn’t there to bang on the door and yell at her to hurry up
every couple of minutes, so she could take as long as she wished
now.

After finishing her evening
routine, she went to bed, thinking that maybe she could persuade
her father to take her to see Loch Ness on the coming weekend. And
maybe she could even persuade her mother to bring Sam to Scotland
over Christmas instead of them visiting London with its crowded
streets and traffic jams.

Snuggled under her warm sheets,
she tried to focus on reading a book her father had bought her at
the airport, but after half an hour she realised her thoughts
wouldn’t stop racing through her mind. Emily’s eyes felt heavy and
she was too tired to concentrate. It was time for bed, anyway.
Sighing, she switched off the lights and pulled the covers around
her.

Ravencourt Manor felt as cold
and silent as a winter’s night. With the curtains drawn, the room
was bathed in darkness.

Emily tossed and turned, and
then threw a glance at the digital clock. Already after nine, yet
she couldn’t sleep. Darkness had never really troubled her that
much, not even when she was a baby, but this was taking the word a
bit too far. She couldn’t even see her hands in front of her eyes,
and she didn’t like that one bit.

Shivering, she got up and walked
to the windows, then pulled the thick curtain aside. The silvery
light of the moon filled the room and gave the furniture their
shape back. She shook her head. “I’m almost fourteen.” For a while,
she just stood there, watching the dense forest stretching out to
the north. “There’s no one out there.”

As she turned away, she saw a
shadow move outside the hedge from the corner of her eye.

She scanned the entire length of
the back garden. “Strange.” But there it was again, darting around
the hedge as if trying to find a way in.

Emily pressed her nose against
the window, peering intently at the black shape. It was bigger than
a cat or dog. And then it lifted its head and Emily saw shiny eyes
that glowed like two hot, red flames staring back at her. She drew
in her breath sharply and jumped away from the window, then closed
the curtains. Counting to twenty she waited for her racing heart to
calm down.

Eighteen, nineteen, twenty. She
moved back to the window. There was nothing except the wind
ruffling through the leaves of the hedge that separated Ravencourt
Manor from Aurelie’s house. Maybe she was dreaming or her
imagination was playing tricks on her like her grandmother used to
say.

As she was about to turn away,
she saw it again and her breath caught in her throat. And this time
she realised it was a hunched figure that looked as if it had a
huge cloak wrapped around it. A shiver ran down Emily’s spine. A
split second later, the shadow retreated into the night. For a
while, she just stood there, her eyes scanning the darkness below
as she gasped for air unable to look away, but the figure was gone.
Eventually, Emily went back to bed. But sleep wouldn’t come for a
long time.

The first rays of light began to
appear when Emily finally drifted off into an exhausted sleep. Her
last conscious thought was that perhaps the shadow hadn’t been
wearing a cloak after all. It could’ve been fur. She
snuggled
into the sheets. She had needed glasses as
a pre-schooler. Mum nagged all the time that she needed to get
another pair. Maybe it was time to get her eyes examined to see
whether her sight was getting worse, and she really needed glasses
again.

The sound of snoring jolted
Emily awake. She sat up with a jerk and listened. It seemed to come
from her own bed. Dad? No. He never snored a day in his life. She
felt around with her foot. Her toe nudged something warm and hard.
She screamed and scrambled to the floor, her heart pounding in her
chest. There was a giant lump at the foot of her bed and she could
swear its snoring shook the room. Poking the lump of covers, she
flinched as a familiar face popped out.

“Go away, squirt.”

Emily gasped. “When did you get
here?” She tugged at her brother’s arm and threw the covers
off.

“Come on. I’m tired. Let me
sleep,” Sam mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Wake up.”

Sam’s eyes popped wide open. His
gaze wandered around the room. “Holy cow!” He swallowed and his
voice went up an octave. “How did I get here?”

Emily crossed her arms. “That’s
what I’m asking you, dummy. When did you and Mum get here?”

Sam shook his head. “We didn't.
We never left the house!” He tugged at his clothing. “This is
crazy! I'm still in my pyjamas. The last thing I remember is going
to bed after Mum had a go at me for coming home late from football
practice. Now I wake up here. In your bed!” He looked at her. “Do
you think I was abducted by aliens?”

“Don’t be silly,” Emily said.
“Why would they take you and why would they return you here?”

“Maybe they got the address
wrong.”

Emily rolled her eyes. Trust her
brother to bring up aliens at every opportunity. After putting on
her slippers, she hurried to the door. “Maybe Mum’s here too. You
stay put. If she’s not here and Dad sees you, he’ll be barking
mad.”

Emily bolted out of the room and
down the corridor. The first rays of sun spilled in through the
high windows. She stopped and blinked against the sudden
brightness.

The house was silent, her father
still asleep in his bed. Emily looked downstairs, but there was no
sign of her mother. Not even unpacked suitcases. She dashed back to
her room where Sam’s questioning look met her. Slumping down on the
bed, she glared at him. “I can’t believe you ran away from home. Do
you have any idea how worried Mum’ll be? Maybe I’m dreaming and
you’re not really here.”

Sam bent toward her and pinched
her arm.

“Ouch! What was that for?” she
cried out, then remembered to keep her voice down.

Sam chuckled. “To prove it’s not
a dream.”

Emily poked a finger in his
chest. “I get the point.”

“How come Dad’s not up yet? It’s
not like him to be asleep at seven,” Sam said, eyeing the clock on
the bedside table.

“Maybe he was up late. But who
cares about that right now?” Emily blew out her breath. “We need to
get you home before Mum and Dad find out. Let’s think. You can hide
here until we find a way to send you back.”

Sam lay back down on the bed and
closed his eyes.

“Hey! You can’t go back to sleep
and let me do all the work.” Emily planted her hands on her
hips.

“Hush, I’m trying to focus. If
aliens brought me here, then maybe they’ll take me back to
London.”

Emily grabbed her school uniform
from the wardrobe and marched to the bathroom to get changed. “I’ll
leave you to your aliens then, but do you think you could contact
them from the wardrobe? Dad’ll probably be up soon, so maybe you
should hide in there just in case he walks in while I’m fixing us
breakfast.”

“A good idea. Can you get me
some orange juice and buttered toast with jam while you’re down
there?”

Emily scoffed. “You wish! I’m
not your maid. Besides, I’m going to be late for school.”

Sam looked at her with puppy dog
eyes. “Please, Em. I’m starving.”

“Okay, just this once.” Emily
rolled her eyes as she hurried down the stairs in her socks, trying
to avoid the three creaky floorboards.

Sam wasn’t getting any toast
from her. She grabbed a large bowl, filled it with cornflakes and
poured milk over them, then poured a glass of orange juice. She
drank it in one big gulp and refilled it, then carried the
breakfast tray up the stairs.

“Why do I need to get you
breakfast when you can fix your own once Dad and I are gone?” Emily
pushed the door shut with her foot and placed the breakfast tray on
the night table.

Sam eyed the bowl while taking a
sip from the orange juice. “Told you I’m starving. You wouldn’t
want Dad to find me downstairs, rummaging through the fridge now.”
He pushed the bowl aside. “Soggy cornflakes, disgusting. Where’s
the toast?”

“Get your own.”

“Come on!”

Emily glared at him. “I don’t
want to be late because of your toast. Dad’ll be leaving in ten
minutes. Just get your own. But stay away from the windows. We
don’t want the neighbours to see you.”

“You’re such a pain.” Sam glared
back, then plopped down on the pillows. “Okay, I’ll keep away from
the windows. And, just in case the postman’s snooping around too,
I’ll be as silent as a mouse.”

“More like a monkey,” Emily
muttered under her breath as she walked to the bathroom to brush
her teeth.

Her father was still in deep
slumber when Emily entered his bedroom to wake him.

“I don’t believe how late it
is,” he muttered. “I had the strangest dream.”

“Yeah, bad dream. Now hurry up,
Dad.” Emily searched for a pair of socks in her father’s drawers as
he buttoned up his shirt, and then followed him to his study. She
watched him shuffle through his papers on his desk and stuff some
of them into an old briefcase. A few minutes later he hurried out
the house with his hair still in disarray.

“What a lovely morning,” Aurelie
shouted from her side of the hedge, but Emily and her father
ignored her as they jumped into the car and sped off down the empty
street.

***

The day couldn’t pass fast
enough for Emily. The hours dragged on and on until she couldn’t
stop fidgeting in her chair. Would Sam behave? Had he found a way
to return home? She wished he didn’t have to go back because she
didn’t want to be in that big old house with no one about.

“Dad says I can do my homework
back at the house,” Emily said from the backseat of Aurelie’s car
after school.

Aurelie glanced at her through
the rear view mirror and squinted. “Your father never mentioned
anything to me, dear.”

“She knows you’re lying,”
Clifford whispered into Emily’s ear.

Emily ignored his words. “That’s
because he was late for work this morning. I’ve been on my own
before. He’ll get very mad if he hears you’ve kept me at your place
instead of letting me finish my homework. I’m really behind and
can’t concentrate with anyone about.” It wasn’t really that big of
a lie, she really couldn’t focus with Clifford gawking at her all
the time.

Aurelie sighed. “All right,
then. We wouldn’t want to make Edgar angry, would we? I’ll drive
you home, but if you need anything, you just knock. By the way,
have you started using the diary yet?”

Emily’s mind froze. The diary.
Of course. “No. Haven’t had time yet,” Emily replied, marvelling at
how easily the lies poured from her lips today. Mum would be
disappointed in her, but Mum wasn’t here. She tried to push the
pang of guilt to the back of her mind.

Aurelie stopped the small car in
front of Ravencourt Manor, and Emily jumped out.

“Thank you. See you tomorrow,
Clifford,” she shouted, already on the threshold of Ravencourt
Manor’s huge brass door. She fished for the key inside her
schoolbag, unlocked the door, then shut it behind her. Pressing her
ear against the door to listen, she waited until Aurelie’s car
departed before she whispered toward the staircase, “Sam! Where are
you?”

“Boo!” Sam jumped from behind
the open kitchen door, pinching her side.

Emily shrieked. “Why do you
always have to do that? You know how much I hate it!”

Sam laughed and shrugged. “It’s
fun. You’re home early. Where’s Dad?”

“He’s at work. I’m home ‘cause
school finishes at three, dummy.”

“Why’re you whispering?” Sam
asked, opening a can of soda.

Emily snatched the can out of
his hand. “Cause I don’t want the neighbours to hear us.”

“Yeah, whatever. I called Mum at
work.” Sam walked into the kitchen with Emily following, and opened
another can from the fridge, then took a big swig.

Emily slapped her forehead. “You
did what? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not. I called to tell
her I’d be spending the night at a friend’s house just in case, you
know,” Sam said. “Now, come on. Got to show you something.”

“What?” Emily asked, wide-eyed.
Could he know? Had he rummaged in her things?

“I’ve found a way to get me back
to London.” Sam grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs to
her room. “Here, put this on.”

Emily looked down on a pair of
rusty wires connected to an old and dusty TV antenna. “Did you get
those from the TV downstairs?”

“Nope.” Sam winked. “The one in
the kitchen. And I put it together myself. Not bad, huh? This is
going to help us communicate with the aliens.”

“Sam, that’s—” Emily hesitated,
not sure how to put it “—rubbish.”

Her brother placed the wires on
her head. “I tried to get in touch with them all morning, but they
haven’t replied yet. Maybe they want to hear a girl’s voice.”