For the next week, anxiety followed in my wake like a prickly shadow. Keeping little contact with Liam was safer, but without knowing he was safe every day was liable to drive me insane. My mind ping-ponged between my instincts screaming at me to run. Use my savings to get out of Sydney, take Liam and dive deep into the outback. Become one of those wild witches that live in solitary, eating tourists every now and then. But reason would trickle in, a fickle reminder that we can’t go anywhere without curing his curse.
Why did you take this curse, Liam? I never should’ve left you with Mum…
Even in the time I’d managed to steal away to the loft and see him, he’d never confessed as to why or how he’d managed to steal the Curse of the Stag. A considerably powerful curse, unstable and dangerous even in a fully grown and trained witch.
I needed to lie low, but I was also desperate to stretch my legs. The city outside was shrouded in fog, the thick cold whirling about as I walked the local coffee place. I threw on a black t-shirt with a pink wool sweater over the to, wrapping the ends around my hands to try and keep them warm. My satchel bounced at my side, carrying my phone, keys, Opal Card and a tiny vial of invisibility. Up against a Sparrow with unparalleled tracking abilities, it wouldn’t do much except buy me some time. But against muggers or any other creatures, it would help me to slip into the shadows.
In a café littered with ferns and sunflowers, I waited for my latte and drank in the smell of coffee. As the beans roasted and I let myself sink into the chatter of the patrons, I could let myself forget about everything for just a moment. Once I had my latte in hand, I made my way over to the waterside path. Around here, things were mostly concrete and old exposed brick, the waters of the harbour grey or brown. It was still nice, though, to sit on the cement guard and watch the sea gulls hop from rock to rock, singing to one another. As I scrolled through my phone absent-mindedly, a notification from a news app flashed.
Third fire in a week. Another café burnt to the ground. Police suspect a repeat arsonist.
Seeing that the fire had taken place only a short walk away, I decided to walk by and have a look. Fires consuming building after building, in such a short time without touching the other buildings on the block? It was odd, and certainly peaked my interest. Doing such things on a whim was one of the many things that brought me joy and guilt. Because it was a freedom I wasn’t ever afforded as a kid or teen. From the moment I woke up, I had train, memorise, and practice the craft. I scarcely even spent time in Rook, the apartment block we called home. My days were mostly spent in Holfast, every minute dictated by my Mother. It was a fate I’d left Liam too, while I chased my own freedom.
I just have to keep selling my potions and pray he’s safe.
It was a funny thing, the faith of a witch. Complicated, too. Witches came from all over the world, from every culture, race and religion. Despite this many still held faith in the Maiden, Mother and Crone. Some religiously, while others simply honoured her. Despite Mother’s intense worship of the triple-goddess, it’d never really stuck with me.
By the time I arrived at the café, smoke was still rising from the remnants of the building. Most of the street was cordoned off, firefighters inspecting the area alongside a few cops. Just as I’d felt earlier, I could sense something strange about this. So entwined in my own thoughts, I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone tapped on my shoulder.
“Sienna it’s okay it’s just me,” A deep, soothing voice laxed my grip on the invisibility potion in my satchel.
“Alistair,” I sigh, relief flooding me at the sight of tall, quiet familiar. His hands are tucked into a long grey coat, his black hair tied into a ponytail, bangs framing a frowning face.
“You could’ve called on me to escort you,” He said, the tip of his nose twitching ever so slightly. I shrug, folding my arms over my chest.
“I’m fine. I don’t need my Familiar with me every time I step outside my apartment. How did you know I was even here?” I ask, a little concerned that my new Familiar was becoming too protective. Alistair looked back to the smoking building.
“I didn’t. I followed instincts. Why’re you here?” He asked, standing a little closer to me. Oddly enough, having him this close made me a little…nervous. It was weird. Robert had never made me feel uncomfortable at all.
“I was out and well, things seemed kind of suspicious. The fire only ever damaged the building it started in and there’s been multiple this week. Feel like doing some investigating?” I asked, a playful smile on my lips.
Alistair raised an eyebrow but nodded.
Together, we tracked our way back through each location of the previous fires. Each location mirrored one another, the place was reduced to nothing, but didn’t even touch the laundromat next door. From each place, we collected an item significant to the place. Signs, tickets and old coffee cups gathered, we returned to my apartment. Alistair seemed to try and make himself seem small as possible, peering around at my collection of plants, the tapestries hanging over the walls and oddly shaped pottery scattered about the place.
“A bunch of rubbish?” He murmured, arms folded as he watched me arrange them on the floor behind the couch. I peered up him and gave him a little smile. Robert for the my part never questioned magic, spells or how any of it worked. He respected the mystery of it, and how sometimes magic didn’t quite follow the human notion of logic.
But Alistair is young and maybe he hasn’t had a Witch before me. Just because he isn’t human doesn’t mean he wouldn’t wonder about the complexities of magic.
It had taken years and years of training, meditation and guidance to truly know and practice magic. Endless days spent in the libraries of Holfast under my Mother’s watchful eye, forging every words in the tomes into my minds eye. I had to live up to my Mother after all, one of the most powerful Witches in all of Australia.
I placed each object a little apart from one another in a neat circle. Within the circle and between the objects, I spread a handful of apricot seeds. Then, I took my necklace and wrapped it around my knuckles, the quartz glowing a soft pink.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Alistair crouched beside me and watched, curiosity glimmering in his dark eyes.
“It’s a form of a scrying spell. Stone and water will reveal the memories of the objects, and with a little guidance I can try and get some specific information from it.” I said as I began to guide the quartz over the circle. The crystal glowed brighter and brighter and a hum rang out, growing louder until the seeds began to crack. Alistair said nothing, sitting with his legs crossed as the spell began to work. The tip of his boot tapped my thigh, and I tried to ignore the way I liked this subtle touch.
Well, did save me back at Central. It’s normal for a Witch to want to be close with her Familiar. Robert and I hugged all the time, so…
I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts away and focus entirely on the scrying spell.
For a spell to work accurately, the Witch must give all her attention and power to it.
The incense of the library floods my nose, the ancient pages between my fingers and crackle of the hearth in my ears for a moment as the words of the tomes flash behind my eyelids. Vines grew from the seeds, interlacing with one another until they formed a circle. The essence of the objects glowed.
“Can you grab me a cup of water, please?” I ask sheepishly.
You’re the witch here. He’s the Familiar. It’s okay to ask him for things.
Alistair went to the kitchen, and after some haphazard directions on my part he returned with a glass of water. Gently as I could, I poured the water into the circle. Then, slowly, I lowered the Quartz until the tip of the crystal touched the water.
I took a deep breath and willed the objects to answer me.
“If I’m going to figure out who’s the arsonist, what should I ask first?” I asked, opening one eye to look to Alistair. He shrugged.
“Who’s the arsonist?” He said with a small smile.
“Very helpful,” I sighed. With both eyes closed, I tried to think.
Whoever has been burning these places down has probably been frequenting the café or the area surrounding it. If he’s using Drake’s Fingers then he would have to have enough money to have bought at least two vials…or perhaps make them himself. Or herself.
“Who visited these places with the intent to destroy?” I ask, drawing on the strength of my quartz. The power flowed into the waters, and sent a ripple through it. Alistair and I peered into the water, and saw a group of five. Two siblings with pale skin and white hair, a young black man with a silver coat, a young Chinese man with long black hair and…the girl with the golden hair.
Alistair and I exchanged a wide-eyed look.
“Ah. So a thief and an arsonist?” He said. He cocked his head to the side and bit his thumb, thinking.
“Seems part of something bigger. Something that’s looking for my brother,” I said, feeling my stomach twist itself into a knot. I couldn’t hide the anxiety that shadowed my face.
“Where is your brother?” Alistair asked innocently. The words became caught and tangled in my throat, so I bit my lip instead of letting them escape.
“Holfast. He’s safe, with magic and a flock of Red Sparrows to keep anyone from getting in. Have you been?” I ask, hoping my voice didn’t come out sounding like a robot. Alistair looked me over, then got his feet. He walked around the living room, pacing in a circle.
“No. I haven’t had a Witch of my own in Australia.” Was all he said as he continued to pace about.
Wonder what had him leave his first Witch. I hope she didn’t die. I need someone good at his job right now. Well. I also need someone I can trust with the whole Liam situation. But I just can’t be too careful. He’s not exactly a man of many words, so maybe he is the right fit.
“Why burn down cafes…and why so quickly, one after the other in one week. Even without the help of magic they’re bound to get caught,” I said quietly to myself. I circled the quartz again, letting the rhythm and hum pick up. Then, I stopped.
Alistair gave a small start when I scrambled to my feet and dashed over to my pile of paper, notes and files on cabinet by the door. From the pile I pulled out a crinkled map of Sydney and folded it out onto the dining table, knocking over a candle or two.
“You have a phone, right?” Alistair asked, watching me roll out the bends and kinks on the paper.
“Don’t be such a millennial. One of the most powerful part of a witch’s tools is a map. The material it’s made from, memories it soaks in and depiction of the land lends itself to magic in a way of digital one can’t. Plus, my phone’s charging right now.”
From my assortment of tools of the craft, I took a small bag with golden runes sewn into the velvet fabric. I poured the contents onto the table, watching the smoothed amethysts tumble from the bag and onto the map. Then, I positioned each onto every targeted café.
It was the beginnings of a rune. For a witch, runes and their meanings were a second language.
Alistair however looked at the rocks, the map, then me, like I was mad.
“I’m nearly certain the arsonist is a witch. They’re using spells and Drake’s Claw to burn the buildings, followed by brief to mark out a rune made of burnt buildings.”
“And…what rune would that be?”
“The rune of expulsion. This group must be pretty angry.”
I dragged my finger down the map, twisting around streets, alleys and across a park.
“And if I’m correct on what rune they’re drawing, then the next target is the Herron, a bar downtown, today most likely.”
Alistair balled his hands into fists and led the way. “Let’s not waste any time then.”
Before I could hastily stuff some potions into my satchel, I followed my eager Familiar instead, trusting in the strength of the black maned lion.
**
On the way to the bar, fat, grey clouds clustered in the sky. A light rain washed over the city, but none were bothered by it. It was the Sydney way of things. No matter the weather, you continued on your business. It seemed some cars went even faster in this weather. Despite my sweater, I wrapped my arms around my chest and tried to ignore the rain as it slicked down my hair.
“Here,” Alistair’s soft but deep voice said. He’d draped his jacket over my shoulders. The thickness of his coat and his warmth kept the cold away, and in that moment I had no idea what to say. So instead, I awkwardly nodded.
Oh, what a terrifying boss you are.
My heart sunk a little, unable to avoid the failures that had led me here.
If I was more powerful, the golden-haired witch wouldn’t be a bother. Maybe even the Jackal Witch would create my cure for free, and I could be sure she’d keep quiet about it. If I was a terrifying force of nature like mother, no one would dare threaten me. I didn’t think there’d ever be a day were I wished to be more like mother. But here I am.
I grabbed his coat, and tugged it closer around me. It smelled of jasmine.
By the time we arrived at the Herron, I could scent the magic in the air. It was thick and resonant, similar to the stale scents that had clung to each of the buildings. Thankfully, the place was closed and it didn’t seem like anyone was around.
Except for the man standing across the street beneath the shelter of a deli, downing a vial of bright orange liquid.
Drakes claws.
Fear ripped through me like a savage beast and all I could do was point and shout, “Alistair!”
With the speed and power of a lion, Alistair tore across the street and tackled the man to the ground. I followed, splashing through the puddles littered over the road. The traffic lights above us clicked, flicking to red. A deep, thunderous growl erupted from Alistair, pressing the man down into the concrete, his hands pinned down. As he wriggled beneath my familiar, I could see his face.
He was one of them.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, using Drakes Claws and destroying people’s livelihoods?” I snapped. There was a wild fury in his hazel eyes, a grey sullenness to his skin. He thrashed about, snarling.
“I’m doing it to protect young witches and warlocks in this city since no-one else will. And I’m sending a message to those Silver Feather fuckers.”