Page 34 of The Witch and His Crow

It wasn’t the unknown of Jordan’s Gift that scared me, but the detached gaze of a broken soul. He was mumbling to himself, picking the skin around his nails. Dark circles hung beneath his all-seeing eyes, hollowing his face into the mask of a decrepit skull.

‘Crack his mind open,’ the water-witch encouraged, grasping onto Jordon’s shoulder whilst peering over like some hungry wildcat. ‘See all the secrets which hide inside. If his mum left the clues, he might know.’

Jordan knelt before me, the silver bands around his eyes glowing brighter. He drank me in, tilting his head from side to side, like an inquisitive dog. It was then I caught the stench of his breath. His yellowed tongue was covered in rotten smelling gunk, framed by lines of blackened teeth.

This was the face of a witch that humans where familiar with. The one you could buy at Halloween store and wear as a mask to scare your friends.

I didn’t need to be told what Jordon’s gift was. There was only one power so twisted, so intrusive that it ruined both the wielder and the victim. It was the ability to delve into another’s mind and abuse it. A well-documented power, and one tightly controlled by the Coven. Previous Grand Highs in history were known to track down witches with this Gift, to leash them or kill them.

‘This is your…choice,’ I said, refusing to drop his stare. If Jordon touched me, he would see everything I had to hide. Memories that were my own to replay, plus the secrets my mother literally took to her grave. I’d rather die than let anyone in.

Jordon leaned in closer, his rotten breath twisting my empty stomach in knots. I knew there was no negotiating with him. Just one look into those haunted eyes, and I knew the witch before me was nothing but a shell. His hand twisted towards me just as a whisper broke free of his mouth. ‘Let…me…in.’

I cringed away, but my body was broken. Every small movement caused me immense pain that not even adrenaline could bury. Cold fingers grasped my wrist. I pinched my eyes closed, trying everything to continue this battle mentally.

But it was just like the water-witch said. Upon Jordon’s touch, he cracked me open, spilling everything from my mind out into the open. I pinched my eyes closed, trying to mentally block him, but it was useless.

‘Ah,’ he moaned like a lover.

‘What do you see?’ One of the witches shouted.

‘I see… I see… missing spaces. A block. His memories have been?—’

The connection was severed. I dared open my eyes to find out why, but when I did it was to watch Jordon flee with all my secrets. Behind him, the teleporter was on her knees, clutching at the other set of hands on her face. Romy. She stood behind the girl, gaze pinned to me as she decayed the witch’s face to mush.

Relief mixed with horror. I tried to warn Romy of the other witch, the one with the power to dampen Gifts. But as I swept my darkening gaze, feeling my vision tunnel, it was to find my shadow. Not Caym, but the witch with piercing eyes.

Arwyn.

He’d come back.

My vision blurred, my eyes closing for longer increments. I felt reality slipping away and I was powerless to stop it. There was no preventing the dark from swallowing me, nor did I want too. It was peaceful here, as it always had been. It was my protection, my safe space. So, I gave unto it willingly, as haunting memories of my past came barrelling into me, unlocked and vicious as the night it all happened.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Thud.

Thu.

CHAPTER TEN

Iwoke to the clang of a bell. It rang out across the world, shattering the peace of my darkness, unapologetic and demanding. There is no slow waking. Only immediate awareness that comes from panic.

Instinct took over. I sat up in the bed abruptly, tired eyes scanning the room. In the seconds after I woke, I was disjointed and confused. Everything was unfamiliar. Even the bed that I was swaddled in. A bed…how the fuck did I end up here?

Soft sheets brushed my bare back, a feather-down duvet weighing down on me. My gaze snapped around as the toll of the bell chime continued. The first trial was over. Unless I’d missed the end and had just woken at the beginning of the second? My memory was hazy, but I had flashes of four witches cowering over me. My hand immediately reached for my side, drawing up the t-shirt to reveal bruised skin. But I found the pale freckled flesh unharmed.

I didn’t believe I’d dreamed up the attack. Everything had felt so real, even the scent of blood still lingered. And yet, the more I looked, there were no wounds to find. Which could’ve only meant one thing.

Someone had healed me.

Surrounding the bed were gauze-like sheets draped from the four-poster frame. It blurred the view beyond, all but the outline of a figure sat before a window. I expected to find a presence, as if they held all the answers I craved.

I searched my thoughts for the answers to my missed time. My head ached the more I strained. Then, the pain became intense and deep, like a worm burrowed into the far reaches of my mind. Like the bell, it came on so suddenly that it blinded me. I must’ve gasped as I clapped a palm over one eye, trying to stifle the migraine, because the person beyond the bed frame was suddenly poking their head through the gauzy curtains.

‘You’re awake,’ Romy said, drinking me in. Her brown curls had been pulled back off her face, revealing tired eyes, with heavy dark circles beneath proving she’d not slept.

I quickly remembered where we were. Through the pain I knew I was safe, in our room, within the castle housing the Witch Trials. Safe—was that the right word for being trapped in a cage? No. And yet, somehow, that was how I felt.

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