Read The Turncoats (The Thirteenth Series #2) Online

Authors: G.L. Twynham

Tags: #The Turncoats

The Turncoats (The Thirteenth Series #2) (6 page)

“When you say negative, what exactly do you mean, because I’ve done some serious time travel recently and if my eyeballs are going to fall out I want to know.”

“Excariot is a very ingenious person and he had four hundred years to prepare for something the judges do on a day to day basis. You aren’t going to have any problems as you aren’t human. Your friend, Delta, may not be so lucky. I can’t tell you how it will manifest in her as we have never heard of a human successfully travelling through time.” He sighed. “You are all so technologically backwards on this planet. Another thing that surprises me about this Val is that you’re ex-friend, if she is here, has done something remarkable in a time when your technology was extremely basic.” Val had to agree, they had had nothing; her mother only had one chair. Then an idea hit Val like a thunderbolt.

“She had Wyetta! I didn’t have time to warn Wyetta about Delta. Could she have gotten the coven to return her to our time?”

Zac nodded. “It’s possible; they managed to send you somehow. If I’m honest we have tried several times to study how the coven sent you to the future, but we still can’t work out how they did it. I will ask for some assistance when I return to Alchany, but for now we must take care that Delta doesn’t cause us any problems.”

“I’m sorry to say I think she will be trying to make lots of problems, but if I have you then it will make it easier to keep the others safe.” Val picked up Zac’s coffee and handed it to him. “If you want to fit in you will need to drink this.” Val opened the private door. “I’m hungry. Let’s order a take-away.” Val picked up the phone and was pleasantly surprised to hear a dial tone. She punched in the numbers of her favourite Indian takeaway.

“Mum,” Wendy called through the shop.

A happy “Hello,” came back to her as her mother appeared from behind the vegetables. “Have you been to the Magic Box?” she asked.

“Yes I have. Raven sends blessings and here are all the ingredients.” Wendy opened the bag.

“Good, I will gather with the others at the bookshop at midnight. The dark moon will cover us. It’s unpredictable, but we should have enough power to create a protective circle around the shop.” She took the bag from Wendy and placed it on the counter. “Come, eat something, you will need all your strength.”

Wendy smiled and followed her mother. She knew she was right: working with magic could be exhausting.

As Wendy tucked into the vegetable stew her mother had prepared, she sat in silent contemplation. It felt strange coming back to her mum’s shop from Val’s. Who could have predicted that just yesterday, after a lifetime of following Val, trying to befriend her, endless training, constantly being reminded of her duty as guardian and how everything was on her shoulders, that it could all change so quickly? This was the first time in her life that talks of guarding Val and Wendy’s failure hadn’t been drummed into her during mealtime. Her mum had gone to call the coven and she was alone. She liked it. It felt as if the way things should be had finally arrived, and she would now be allowed a time of peace.

Jason parked his bike and he and Fran made their way up the drive to his dad’s barn conversion. Shane had bought the property the year before his wife Elizabeth died. It had the most amazing studio with views across endless fields. It was here, in the attic, that Shane created his masterpieces. Jason unlocked the door and walked in, throwing his keys into a delicate glass bowl on an antique table by the front door.

“Jason,” Fran’s disapproval resounded in her words.

“What?” Jason shrugged. “Dad,” he called into the dark house.

“Up here,” Shane called to them. Jason knew he would be
up there
.

“Dad, are you going to have a break?”

“Maybe later. There’s dinner for you both in the cooker.”

“Ok.” They knew better than to try and drag him away from his art.

Val had created a picnic area in the bookshop for their dinner and as Zac finished up chicken korma, mushroom rice, poppadom and pickles he found himself leaning back with a deep look of satisfaction across his face. “This food is truly wondrous. I have never eaten like this before. Do you feast like this often?”

“I used to do it every Friday night, but I suppose we can make it our new ritual. The guard and hunter’s curry night.” Val raised her glass of water into the air just as there came a knock at the door. Val jumped up and walked her now satisfied body towards the door to be greeted by, not just Wendy, but Fran and Jason.

“It’s magic time.” Jason made strange hand gestures behind Wendy’s head.

Fran pushed him in. “I’m so sorry Wendy, but Jason missed out on maturity when they were handing it out.”

Wendy turned to Jason and grabbed his hand. Startled, he stopped dead, blocking the way “If I wish, Jason, I can make you run around the streets of Arcsdale telling everyone that you are a little girl and you want your dummy. Would you like that?“ Jason stood statuesquely still and then, slowly, he shook his head in response. “So, are we going to mock a power, about which you have no knowledge or understanding, and that has survived thousands of years through hidden scripts written in the blood of innocents?”

“No,” Jason replied shakily.

Wendy let his hand go. “Good choice.” She grinned and they all started to move into the shop, slightly more subdued than before.

“Can you really do that?” Val whispered into Wendy’s ear.

“No, but it’s a good lesson to learn: sometimes you have to fake it till you make it.”

As Wendy walked past her, Val smiled; Wendy had a dark side that she actually quite liked.

“Ok scary lady, tell us what we need to do.” Val asked.

“We will need to make room for the coven to fit in here,” Wendy looked around the area just inside the entrance door, the biggest clear space the bookshop had to offer. She pointed to the idle book trolley and then the old reliable, mangled water cooler. As Jason and Zac started pulling things out of the way a knock came at the door. Val turned to see Wendy’s mother standing there with a group of strangers. She moved quickly to let them in.

“Good evening, Wendy’s mum,” Val held the door as they all came in.

“You must call me Belinda, and a good evening to you, Val.” Belinda made her way over to Wendy who was already positioning black candles in a circle. As the others entered, they all found a way to touch Val, whether with a pat on the hand or a tap on the arm, and wished her “Merry Meet”.

Seeing that Val was looking uneasy, Wendy came over to her, wearing a softer than usual expression on her face.

“Everything is going to be ok, Val. These people are your family now. As a Witch you are amongst your own.”

“Why do they keep ‘merry meeting’ me?” Val whispered.

Wendy started to chuckle.

“What?”

“They mean exactly what they say. ‘Merry meet’ is our way of saying hello. We don’t always use it as it would bring too much attention to us, but when amongst our own we can speak freely.” Wendy placed her hand gently on Val as a sign that all was good.

“So in this day and age you still have to hide your greetings?” Val felt confused and concerned.

“You will learn that we’ll never be completely accepted, ever. We have more freedom now, but when others don’t understand there can only ever be fear. Our only mission in life is to simply support the environment in which we have been given the gift of life. We try to work with the ebb and flow of our precious planet and moon. As a group we look after our own and never intrude on others. But please don’t think that all witches are good. There are those who bring us into shame and it’s these few who make our existence now, and in the future, one that will always survive behind closed doors and with secret greetings. Now, let’s get you some protection.” She handed Val a black candle and beckoned her over to join the other witches.

Fran, Jason and Zac positioned themselves behind the counter, their expressions enough to let Val know that they weren’t going to get in the way. Belinda had set up a table display in the corner and the people who were circling her had started to chant just like her mother’s coven had in the past. Val followed Wendy, gripping her candle firmly. She wondered if it would melt under the heat her hands were starting to create. She was getting very warm; maybe it was the volume of people in the shop. Wendy led Val into the centre of the circle and made her face Belinda. Then she moved back, joining the other witches who were now holding hands and circling a lot faster than before, repeating a name over and over again. To Val it sounded like they were chanting Brigit or Brigid.

Belinda leaned in towards her table and lit her candle. Suddenly and without warning, the others came to an instant standstill and the quiet rained down on them.

Belinda began to speak, her voice little more than a whisper.

“To this fire Brigid come; Goddess, sister
we are one.

By this dark moon with no light, hear me
mother on this night,
In this place and on this ground, may
protection now be found.”

Val didn’t know whether to rip off her clothes or throw herself at the water cooler. Perspiration was pouring down her back. She looked around to see if the heating was on the blink, but no one else seemed even close to breaking a sweat. Then they started again and this time Belinda joined them as they circled Val. This felt familiar, like the time she had done the spell to protect her parents. She started to relax as their song intensified.

Then it happened. She didn’t know how or what caused it, but she was on fire. There was a gasp from all present and Wendy had to bring them back to the chanting. The flames seemed to skip up and down Val’s body; her candle began melting over her hands and dripped onto the floor of the shop. The chorus reached fever pitch. Val could feel her heart beating inside her in time with them like a drum, growing, growing, growing in intensity. She was heady with the power surging through her. Then, as suddenly as before, they stopped.

Belinda stepped towards a now flaming, Val. “As it is, so be it done!” She expelled the words on a powerful breath that seemed to push Val backwards; it was as if Belinda had blown her out like a simple candle on a cake. Her fiery cloak had disappeared.

She looked around. Once again everyone in the circle was starring uneasily at her.

“Let us not forget whose presence we are in. What did you expect?” Belinda addressed the others in a stern tone.

They all nodded, then, as if embarrassed by the deep silence, they began to speak all at once. They walked around kissing each other on the cheek and patting Val on the back. Perplexed, not understanding what had happened, Val turned to look at Jason and Fran who were moving around putting things back to normal. They had been witness to Val’s crazy experience, yet they all looked as if nothing unusual had happened. The only person who seemed disturbed was Zac, who was still behind the counter and staring at her with an appalled expression.

“Are you ok?” Val moved towards him, careful not to get too close.

“You are different. I have never seen a guard do that. How… why can you do these things?” Zac actually looked scared of Val.

“Actually that’s the first time I have set myself on fire without assistance, so it’s all new to me.” She grinned, trying to make light of the situation.

“Guards use their hands as weapons, but I have never seen such power. No wonder Excariot needs you. It seems that a witch mixed with a guard is a very powerful reject.” Finally he lost the scared look. “Coffee?” he asked.

“Zac, you read my mind.” Val was pleased she had at last impressed him.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder. “Excuse me Val, but we must be making a move. We have done the best we can do and this spell should stop Excariot from entering the shop. However, his power is great and he has his own magic so we will have to keep our fingers crossed.” Belinda embraced Val. “Merry we meet and merry we part, Val, so that we may meet again.” Belinda placed a kiss on Val’s cheek.

“Yes, all of that and come back whenever you want,” Val replied.

“Come, it’s time to leave.” Belinda beckoned to the other witches and they all followed her out.

“I will see you in the morning if you’re sure you’re ok,” Wendy said, also preparing to leave.

“Well, I’m feeling a little safer and a lot cooler now,” Val responded. “Do you think the wax will come off the floor boards?” she asked as she followed Wendy to the door.

Wendy laughed and shook her head in mock despair, then followed her mother.

“So, our turn now,” Fran pitched in as she grabbed Jason’s hand and dragged him towards the exit.

“Are you sure you’re ok, because we can stay?” Jason asked.

“No, I’m fine. Go home and rest. I’ll see you all in the morning.” Val pushed them out locking up behind them.

She turned out the lights and headed upstairs, ready to get some sleep. Then something occurred to her and she turned to Zac who was following. “What do you hunters do at bed time?”

“I should stay here tonight just in case Excariot returns.” Zac said.

“What exactly will you do if he does? You don’t fight so you will become the hunted, not the hunter. Go back to Alchany. We can talk in the morning about what has to be done next. I’ll stay here with the door open so you can return if any escaped prisoners decide to hijack any more bodies. Ok?” Val was tired. The day had been one of the longest she could remember, and she had been through a few odd days recently. Now she just wanted a little time alone to take it all in.

“If that is what you want me to do, then I will.” Zac walked up to the portal. With one glance back he was gone, leaving only a brief shimmer on the face of the gateway.

“Bye.” Val waved at nothing and smiled. She ran a bath and laid out her new clothes on the bed. She still didn’t want to sleep in it so another night on the nest she had created was the only other option.

She sank into the warm water amongst a mountain of foam, thanks to some ancient bubble bath for old men. She knew she would smell like her granddad afterwards, but who cared. She started to wash and noticed her bare arm. There was no tattoo. The one thing that had been constant was now gone. “Time for change,” she told herself as she washed her arm clean.

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