Nature of the Witch Read online

  Jack shook his head. Then he watched her leave and sighed. She was lying to him again.

  Kiera took some deep breaths. Her hands were shaking as she checked for the umpteenth time that she had everything she needed for the spell. There was no wind, which was a blessing, but it was still bitterly cold and she pulled her dressing gown tighter. There were no clouds and the full moon shone down large and bright. It spread its glow across the surrounding hills and fields and Kiera could feel its energy. It was giving her strength.

  She had been unable to find any protective spells, not the type that seemed likely to work on someone's soul anyway. She had picked some Soloman's Seal from the garden, a small plant with cream, bell-shaped flowers. It was supposed to ward off evil spirits so she didn't think it would work in terms of protecting her soul, but she was willing to try anything. She had considered trying to make an amulet, to work as a charm against the evil of the Grim Seed, but without the right sort of protective spells it would be useless.

  She sat down on the cold grass and crossed her legs. Eight unlit candles surrounded her in a circle. She clicked her fingers and they flickered into life. Then she took another deep breath and began the spell. She placed the ingredients in front of her, exactly as the book had told her. She started with a photo of her dad, along with his wedding ring. She chanted the words that she had learned off-by heart as she did so. The fire from the candles seemed to grow larger. It was working.

  The last ingredient before the Grim Seed was pomegranate seeds. The pomegranate seeds represented regeneration. They were said to have been eaten by souls in the underworld to give them new life. They would help to give new life to her dad.

  It was almost ready. She picked up the Grim Seed. The colour seemed to have drained from them although oddly the flowers were still intact, it would seem they were very hardy and able to survive even without water. She thought for a moment about how strange it was that they were called a Seed when in fact it was a full flower. Then she placed the flowers in her mortar bowl and picked up her pestle.

  As she ground the flowers down the fire from the candles grew higher and higher. She watched in fascination until she was surrounded by a circle of flames. Then slowly in the flames a face emerged and her heart rushed into her throat. It was her dad. His face was just as she remembered it before he fell ill. He looked healthy and strong and she ground the flowers faster. It seemed as though he was frowning at her, his eyes watching her in concern.

  “It's okay dad,” she whispered, “it'll be okay.”

  She tried to concentrate on the spell but she kept looking back to the face in the fire, the face she knew so well, one that she had grown up with, a face that loved her and that she loved back in the unconditional way that families do love each other. She had thought she would never see that face again but finally she could bring him back.

  The Grim Seed was ready. She held it out in front of her with shaking hands.

  Meanwhile, for no apparent reason, Jack stirred from his sleep. He lay for a moment before succumbing to the overwhelming urge to check on Kiera. He sighed as he climbed out of his warm bed into the cold.

  He peeked into Kiera's bedroom and, upon seeing the empty bed, shot downstairs like a rocket.

  Not again, he thought, where could she be this time?

  He opened the front door and immediately saw an orange glow from the side of the house. There was a fire. He sprinted round and was stopped in his tracks by a wall of flames. It formed a circle and between the flames he glimpsed Kiera in the middle sitting cross-legged.

  She was looking at something. He shielded his eyes from the glare; it appeared as though a man stood in the flames. Was that possible? He watched her hold a mortar bowl out and through the crackling and spitting he heard her chant some words.

  “Kiera!” He called out.

  Kiera turned briefly in surprise. She saw Jack watching her from the other side of the fire.

  “Stop!” He shouted and she paused. All she had to do was repeat the words and sprinkle the Grim Seed. She began to speak, shaking her head apologetically to Jack.

  I have to do this.

  Jack moved in closer, the heat burning at his skin, “Please Kiera, just stop and look at your father's face. He doesn't want you to do this. It's wrong.”

  Kiera stopped again and looked to her dad. His features, although blurred slightly as the flames jumped and danced, were etched with concern. He shook his head softly to her.

  “I'll be okay,” she tried to reassure him but either he couldn't hear her or didn't believe her, because his expression remained the same.

  She bit her lip and brought the mortar bowl back into her chest. The flames died down a little and Jack moved round so she could see him clearer. She glanced across at him and he was looking at her sadly.

  “I miss him so much,” she whispered, “he's the only family I've ever had.”

  “He's not your only family Kiera,” Jack said gently and he held his hand out towards her, “you have me now and you'll always have me, I promise. I get it. I lost my family and I will always miss them and wish they were here. I wish I could turn back the clocks and protect them. I spent years alone, but we aren't alone anymore. I'm not alone. You're not alone.”

  Tears pricked at Kiera's eyes. She remembered being stuck between worlds, the darkness that had enveloped her and how Jack's voice had led her back to safety. She wasn't alone. She had Jack.

  She looked back at her dad's face in the fire. It was starting to fade. She didn't want him to go. She looked at Jack in panic.

  “I know how much you love him, but you have to let him go,” he told her, “it's time to let him go.”

  Tears escaped and began to roll down her cheeks. Then she nodded. She moved closer to her dad's face as his features slowly disappeared in the dying flames. She held out her hand towards him. He was smiling now.

  “Dad,” she whispered as the last flame disappeared and he was gone. Then she broke down into huge sobs that shook through her whole body. She felt Jack's arms around her and she let them completely envelop her. She buried her head into his chest and let herself bawl. She hadn't released so much emotion to another human being ever before, but she couldn't stop it even if she had wanted to. The grief poured out of her as she came to the realisation that he was really gone, he wasn't coming back.

  Jack didn't speak, he just cradled her. He knew that she needed this. Kiera was vaguely aware that she had made a mess out of Jack's t-shirt as her tears gradually subsided and left her with dry, short sobs.

  She raised her head slowly. Without the brightness of the fire they were mostly left with darkness except for the gleam of the full moon and the glimmer of a starry night. She reached out and picked up her dad's wedding ring and photo. Then she nestled back into Jack's chest. Crying was so tiring; she felt like she'd run a marathon.

  Jack held her tighter and in one movement rose to his feet taking her with him. He carried her back round to the house and up to her bedroom. He set her on her bed and then gently removed her dressing gown and slipped off her shoes. He placed them at the end of her bed.

  She was so exhausted that she didn't argue. She let him look after her. She watched him place her dad's ring and photo on her dressing table and then he pulled back her duvet and helped her to snuggle down into it.

  He paused and looked down at her, “Do you want me to stay with you?”

  Kiera nodded without hesitating and he climbed into the bed beside her. He pulled her back into his arms and she laid her head on his chest.

  As sleep slowly took over she whispered dreamily, “Did you mean it Jack? You'll never leave?”

  “I promise Kiera,” he stroked her hair. He knew it was true. He would never leave her.

  She had almost drifted off when a thought struck her, “The tree-spirit said I was being hunted.”

  “What by?” Jack asked in alarm.

  “Didn't say,” Kiera could fight it no longer and she slipped into a world of
shadows and memories.

  Jack remained wide awake in the real world. The tree-spirit said she was being hunted. He needed to speak to Kitto.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Kiera was pleasantly surprised to find that she didn't feel awkward when she awoke in Jack's arms the next morning. In fact she felt content and, despite the previous night's events, almost happy. She could tell by his breathing that he was asleep so she stayed still so as not to disturb him. She listened to the sound of his heart beat and felt the rise and fall of his chest. His skin was warm against her cheek. He had told her that she wasn't alone and he was right. They had each other. They would always be there to watch over each other, and, for the first time, she found that the thought didn't feel strange, it was soothing.

  After a while she lifted her head slowly and looked up at him. His lips were parted slightly and his head was rolled to the side. She moved and his arm tightened around her protectively. She thought she had woken him but he remained asleep.

  She noticed with some envy that he still looked good, even first thing in the morning. His dark hair, tousled and unkempt against her pillow, suited him that way. She caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror and grimaced; all the crying had made her eyes large and puffy; her long hair was beyond tousled and unkempt, and had entered into wild, knotted and frizzy. She looked back at Jack's own angelic features and scowled. Life was unfair.

  She glanced across to the dressing table where she knew her dad's photo and wedding ring lay. She tried to gauge how she felt about it all. Jack was right, she had to let it go. The tree-spirit had also been right too, just because she had the power to do something didn't mean that she should. Dad would never want her to risk her soul to bring him back.

  She still missed him. She knew she always would. A single tear escaped but she didn't wipe it away or try to hide it. Grief was normal. She had to accept it and she had to find a way to move on.

  She was surprised to feel Jack's hand. He wiped her tear away and then stroked her cheek.

  “Morning,” he smiled.

  She smiled back a little bashfully, “Morning. Thank you for looking out for me last night.”

  He nodded and as a silence fell she suddenly felt awkward. They were in bed together and Jack wasn't wearing a top. Also she looked like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards and then possibly forwards and sideways too.

  She cleared her throat and tried to think of something to say. Jack also started to appear uncomfortable and he removed his hand from her cheek. She sat upright so that he could move.

  “I'll let you get ready,” Jack said looking at the floor, “see you downstairs.”

  “OK thanks,” she watched him leave. For a moment she just stared at the door that Jack had left through. She had a strange feeling in her chest that wasn't too dissimilar to indigestion. She had enjoyed spending the night with Jack, he made her feel safe and secure but, more than that, she enjoyed being so close to him. There was a connection between them, one that she couldn't quite explain. It occurred to her that there had been a time when she couldn't imagine Jack playing such a large part in her life, but now she couldn't bear the thought of a life without him.

  Jack headed straight down the stairs to the kitchen. He wondered why it had suddenly turned so awkward. Maybe it was a bit odd; he had never been in bed with someone he wasn't having a relationship with before. In fact it had been an awfully long time since he'd been in bed with anyone.

  He had never particularly enjoyed sharing a bed for the night. He liked to have space, preferred to stretch out and have a bed to himself. He was puzzled as to why he had liked being with Kiera. He had liked holding her to him and seeing her face when he opened his eyes.

  Don't go there, Jack, he thought to himself grimly.

  He needed a cup of coffee, a strong one at that. He found Kitto in the kitchen and, for the first time since they'd met, he suddenly felt embarrassed. He wondered if Kitto knew that he had spent the night with Kiera.

  Jeez, he thought, it's not like anything happened and, even if it did, we are both adults!

  “Tea?” he asked, avoiding eye contact as he switched on the kettle.

  “I've had one thanks,” Kitto smiled pleasantly, “I thought you planned on surfing this morning?”

  “I overslept,” Jack mumbled.

  “I haven't seen Kiera,” Kitto commented, “do you know if she's meditating?”

  Jack shrugged awkwardly. He had a funny feeling Kitto knew what had happened and was simply enjoying his discomfort.

  He was tempted to take his coffee upstairs and avoid any further embarrassing questions but he dutifully took a seat at the kitchen table and Kitto sat down opposite. Jack stirred his coffee as a thought struck him.

  “The tree-spirit told Kiera that she was being hunted,” Jack informed Kitto, “do you think that could be true? Could it be…?”

  He couldn't bring himself to finish the question. Kitto would know what he meant. After all, it was Kitto who had told him the stories about that ancient species, always referred to simply as the Creatures, who relentlessly pursued the witches, hungry for blood.

  He saw alarm flicker across Kitto's face before he reined it in and shook his head, “No I don't think so.” He waved his hand dismissively.

  Jack raised an eyebrow, “Would it really be so crazy? You were brought back from the dead and witchcraft has been brought back, so why not them?”

  But Kitto shook his head again, “It wouldn't make sense. Don't you remember how it all happened? The Kasadow was created because witches were out of control, some covens were power-mad and abusing their gifts. Why would the Creatures be brought back now? There is only one witch and she is good. There's no need for the Creatures.”

  Jack drank his coffee and tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table. Finally he said simply, “Tell me about it.”

  “What?” Kitto frowned.

  “You never speak of what happened,” Jack said softly, “tell me about Bersaba, about how she died, tell me about how you tracked down the last of the Creatures.”

  Kitto shrugged and rose from the table in an agitated manner, “There's not much to tell. I let my guard down and Bersaba was killed. Then I killed the last Creature.”

  “Were you…” Jack paused. Perhaps he was prying too much. He tapped his fingers again, “Were you and Bersaba…”

  He searched for an appropriate word, “…in a relationship?”

  Kitto sighed, “Yes, we loved each other.”

  They fell into an uncomfortable silence; the second uncomfortable silence that morning for Jack and he hadn't even had breakfast yet.

  “So you really don't think we need to worry about the Creatures?” Jack asked at length.

  Kitto shook his head.

  “All those years ago, a Creature killed Bersaba, who was the last witch, and you killed the Creature so it couldn't still be alive or anything?” Jack probed.

  Kitto seemed exasperated, “No Jack, it couldn't still be alive. You should go and get dressed.”

  Jack put his coffee mug in the sink and headed back upstairs. He stopped halfway up and sighed wearily. Kitto hadn't looked him in the eye as he spoke. There was something Kitto was keeping from him. He gripped the bannister angrily. What was it with everyone keeping secrets from him these days?

  Kiera and Jack both spent the day training. Jack barely stopped to eat. He practised with various weapons; he perfected his aim with the knife, he shot bottle caps off a wall at fifty paces and he worked on his strength by battering his punch bag until it almost snapped free from its hook. If something was after Kiera then he was going to be ready.

  At the end of the day he picked up his staff and faced Kitto. He was exhausted after all the training he had done but, as he blocked Kitto's first blow, he felt the adrenaline pumping and he looked at Kitto and felt anger.

  How can I protect Kiera if you keep things from me?

  He swung his staff into Kitto's side. Then, before
Kitto could gather his balance, he brought it up into his chin, and as he teetered backwards Jack swept his legs from under him.

  He wasn't sure who was more surprised, himself or Kitto. He quickly held out a hand to help him up but Kitto laughed and brushed it aside, “Well done Jack.”

  He pulled himself to his feet and turned to Jack. They bowed. Jack felt awful. An awkward silence descended, Jack's third one of the day. Kitto didn't seem perturbed but it didn't make Jack feel any better.

  “Really, well done,” Kitto rubbed Jack's shoulder tenderly, “just watch out because I'll be wanting my own back tomorrow night.” Then he turned back to the house.

  Jack stayed still for a moment before following Kitto inside. He went straight up to bed. He was still angry but now it was directed at himself. He paused at Kiera's door, feeling the overwhelming urge to see if he could stay with her again. He suddenly longed to hold her to him and not be alone. He shook the idea quickly from his head and hurried to his own room. He threw his staff down on the floor and slumped into his bed.

  Kiera's day was just as busy. She meditated and listened as hard as she could for any subliminal messages from the world around her. If she wasn't bringing her dad back then she was going to make him proud. She was going to be the best witch the world had ever seen. She was going to use her powers and make a difference.

  She also poured over her books and picked out the best protective spells she could find. If she was being hunted then she was taking no chances. Kitto and Jack were her family now and she was going to keep them safe. She wrote down what she needed for her spells.

  She didn't see Jack much that day. She hoped he wasn't avoiding her after their uncomfortable moment that morning. At the end of the day, when she knew Jack was out, she snuck into his workshop. She made her way over to the far side and studied the wall.

  It was the wall where Jack kept all his clippings and notes regarding his parents' death. She read the notes carefully. She wanted to help. After all these years she wanted to give Jack closure just as he had managed to give her some in his own way. Perhaps she could use her magic to help Jack find out what had happened that night. If Jack's mother had been murdered and if she was now being hunted then maybe it was connected.