Something grabbed my shoulder, and I took a sharp breath, eyes snapping open.
“Lexi,” Leo whispered.
“Geez, Leo-”
“Shh.”
Bleary-eyed, I looked at him, still processing through my half-sleep state. He stared at the bottom of the bed. Looking down, Quinn stood void of emotion and eyes wide open. She looked possessed.
“What’s going on?” I murmured low.
“No idea…”
Quinn didn’t react to my hand waving in front of her face. Her eyes didn’t shift, and I noted they were cloudy. Instead of the wise caramel eyes seeing out, they were more beige.
“I think she’s sleepwalking,” I suspected.
“Is she normally this creepy when sleepwalking?”
“She has never sleepwalked…”
I half debated getting out of bed to wake her, but they say never to disturb a sleepwalker.
“Quinn?” I ventured.
She turned slowly and walked towards the door. Her movements were slow and a little jerky, like a puppet.
I followed her out, “I’ll watch her… make sure she doesn’t hurt herself. Will you get Devan?”
“Gotcha,” Leo replied, exiting the bed.
When Quinn approached the stairs, I made sure to be in front of her going down.
“Quinn?” Devan’s voice came from the top.
“She’s out of it,” I replied, reaching the bottom steps.
“What’s going on?” Lathen appeared from the living room, rubbing his eyes. He crashed after being drunk under the table.
“We think Quinn is sleepwalking.”
“Impossible, she’s an energy witch. When they sleep, they sleep.”
Devan looked guilty and said, “Actually… This isn’t the first time.”
Quinn entered the kitchen and made her way to the table.
“What?” Lathen inquired.
“After watching the footage at Jack’s. She would sleepwalk and do strange things; she even left the house once.”
Quinn artfully pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because it only happened a few times… I didn’t think anything of it.”
I watched her sitting; her hands stroked the table before her, and then her nails scratched the surface.
Lathen cringed, “Geez, horrible noise.”
I noticed her hands moved in a pattern, “Get paper and a pen. I don’t think these are scribbles.”
“What are you thinking?” Devan said, finding the things nearby.
“Something doesn’t add up. She was drugged, but no blood was taken. She blacked out for two hours until she called me. She had memories of walking away from Star Gazers and now sleepwalking?”
I placed the paper and pen below her hands, nudging them into position slightly. She paused, feeling around again. Her hand grasped the pen and carried on her ‘scribbling’.
“She’s channelling, not sleepwalking,” I affirmed.
“Channelling?” Devan asked.
“Energy witches can get messages or visions. Without an outlet,”–I gestured to the pen and paper– “this will continue. Her psyche has awakened. She’ll be able to connect to the other side of the veil more easily.”
“Cool. But why did it happen after Jacks?”
“No idea.”
Thud.
“Ouch! WTF?” Quinn gasped, rubbing her forehead. The conversation stopped.
“Quinn? Are you alright?” Devan soothed, cautiously putting a hand on her back.
“No, I am not alright! What kind of sick prank is this?”
“You’ve been sleepwalking again.” Devan kneeled beside her and looked at her red forehead, “Well… sort of.”
“Don’t tell me I went on a walk again?”
“No... Lexi, you can explain it better than me.”
I stared down at the paper neatly covered in ink.
“Your psyche has awakened… This is channelling,” I informed.
“I did that?” She looked over the paper.
I nodded and she picked it up inspecting her artwork.
“Do you know what it is?” she asked.
“No… But I know who might.”
“What the hell is going on here? Do you know it’s 3 AM?” Seri appeared in the doorway, she looked tired and pissed.
“Long story… I’ll tell you tomorrow,” I reassured her while she yawned.
“Come on, back to bed,” I said, ushering everyone out.
The next afternoon, we explored the town a little more. I slowed to a stop outside of a shop window.
“See something you like?” Leo asked, looking into the Summer Solstice display.
Depictions of sun and sunflowers covered the merchandise of locally made items: Soaps, bags, cloaks, even a large painting and a broomstick. Accompanying the articles were published books, crystals and herbs. To the side was a menu of seasonal fresh desserts and beverages available.
“Hm,” I replied, looking past the display inside the shop, “This is my uncle's store.”
Taking in the window display I remember many summers at Whitby, it brought fond memories of walks with Dad. The display would be different each year. I let my senses stretch out, seeking the larger store for my uncle. After a few seconds, I found him in the basement.
“He’s in.”
I turned toward the others. They were looking inside a different place over the road.
“Come on, they’ll find us no doubt,” I coaxed.
“Merry meet!” Greeted the woman behind the counter.
Several people were randomly browsing around the shop, not all of them witches, some into the occult or simply spiritual, and others were sitting in the café section tasting cold drinks and cakes. I approached the woman manning the till.
“Merry Meet. May I speak to Kieron?”
Before she opened her mouth, a door behind her opened.
“I thought I felt a disturbance,” A man chirped behind her, a smile stretching on his face, “Hello, dear niece.”
He quickly came around the counter with his arms out, and I greeted him with a hug.
“Hi, Uncle Keiron.”
My skin looked even paler than my uncle's; he could walk in the sun for ten minutes and tan. The same kind of teddy bear-like brown eyes my mum and brother have with dark chocolate hair to match. He was slightly taller; I was a few inches shy of him.
“I missed you!” I admitted, pulling away.
“Ahh, is it possible you have grown even more?” he cupped my chin, inspecting me, “I see your wisdom has grown despite your young years,” he teased.
I turned to Leo, “Uncle Keiron, meet Leo – My boyfriend.”
I added the last part quickly; I had not yet introduced Leo as my boyfriend before.
“They’re in here!” I heard Seri’s voice from the front door.
“Ahh, you brought more friends! Welcome.” He gestured around him, at the shop.
They were like kids in a candy store and immediately split up to look at everything up for grabs in the shop.
My attention returned to Keiron, “I wanted to ask you about something.”
“Go for it.”
“Quinn, drew this from a channelling. Any ideas?”
After looking at Quinn’s drawing with fresh eyes, it was clear this was a birds-eye view of a scene. Two people are within a circle in the centre of the image, and ruins surround them. Ribbons of symbols cocooned the pair, reaching forth and around the air. I knew nothing of the characters and had not encountered them before.
One person was lying down, surrounded by liquid, and the other was kneeling at the other's head with arms outreached upwards, almost desperate and pleading with the heavens.
Keiron was a history buff. It was a long shot, but maybe he recognised the ruins to give us a clue.
He hummed, turning it this way and that way, considering the image.
“Give me a moment.”
Keiron took the image and turned away, back down into the basement.
Leo came closer behind me, leaning down he whispered, “They have chocolate cake.”
I bit my lip and perused the cake stand. They indeed had my favourite. I glanced back at Leo, who smiled and got a table. I quickly followed with glee but instead went to the counter to order.
After a slice of cake and halfway down a Lavender coffee, Uncle Keiron appeared again with a large book and took a vacant seat near me.
“So, the ruins are hard to pinpoint as my sister says, you see one, you’ve seen them all before. However, they look similar to the abbey at the top of the hill.”
He took a photo and pointed out similarities between the drawing and the image.
“In terms of the spell, I can tell you everything.” His face gave nothing away.
“You know it?” I asked, surprised.
“Unfortunately, yes. It was the one your father tried.”
I looked back at the image more interested, “What do you mean?”
“The one that put him in the coma. The one he never recovered from: Vitamortum.”
My stomach dropped, the richness of the cake, now tasted sour. This is what my Dad tried? This is what killed him? I was not told of the details of my fathers accident and how he was put into a coma. My hands shook as I placed the picture down again.
Lathen asked the question everyone was thinking, “What does it do?”
“It is taboo to use it,” Kieron warned, “It upsets the balance of life and death.”
He turned the open book towards me and pushed it over the table, “It brings people back from a point of no return. What we call a near-death experience.”
He read the passage aloud as I was reading it.
“He tried to bring back your grandmother, Lexi.”
I closed my eyes with memories flooding back. I remembered how upset he was at my grandmothers passing. It was only them two, when he lost her, he was stricken with grief, he visited her gravestone every week without fail.
My grandma had been dead and buried for a couple of years before Dad fell into the coma. Surely you would need a body or vessel for such things?
“I can see the wheels turning,” he leaned over and tapped my forehead, “From what I can tell, he was bordering on necromancy and absolute stupidity.”
Keiron shook his head as if to shake off a memory, “Your grandma was long gone… It takes a toll on anyone who performs it, never mind trying to use it for necromancy. Anyone who has tried it, has died and no one has been successful in completing the spell.”
‘He was a dead man before completing the spell,’ I concluded.
Seri, next to me, put a hand on mine in comfort. I couldn’t help but read further down the page.
“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to know what the spell is. I thought you’d be able to tell us more about the ruins,” I remarked; my uncle laughed in response.
I remembered the words of Nixon, “I wanted to ask you something else.”
“Go on.”
“You’ve met Nixon?” I saw Quinn tense up slightly, “Our coven leader?”
“Was,” Keiron corrected.
Surprised, I asked, “Mum told you?”
“Who else?”
I chuckled lightly before continuing, “He said something a while ago that’s been playing on my mind.”
“That you’ll turn Dark like the rest of us?” He held a small smile and tilted his head to the side regarding me.
I nodded solemnly.
Keiron thought about his words carefully, “Nixon… believes a lot of things. Including certain spells being ‘Dark’.” he quoted.
“His words are not gospel. In our family, only taboo spells are off limits and transformation is not one of them.” He gave me a pointed look at the last part.
“There is no such thing as Dark magic. It was made up by the ‘white witches’, and now every Tom, Dick and Harry claims x, y, z is Dark magic,” he wailed.
Laughs chorused around the table.
“Sorry, I went on a rant there,” he apologised.
I shook my head, “I always miss your rants!”
Evening fell, and we eventually made it back to the holiday house.
I caught Leo sitting on the bed, fingering the letter the Fae gave him the other night.
“Are you okay?” I inquired.
He snapped out of his thoughts and watched me move closer, sitting beside him.
“Yeah. I’m not sure if I should open it.”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” I teased, he laughed.
My senses washed over it, “I don’t feel anything from it.”
He shook his head, “I get nothing either.”
After a small silence, I encouraged him, “Open it.”
He cautiously broke the wax seal on the back and slowly unfolded it.
Dear Leonard,
The last I wrote to you was two years ago. I see you have finally found your fate and ended up in Whitby, as predicted.
The necklace has not left you alone. It is trying to warn you.
I know about all of your past lives and the ones you have found out about recently, Edward and Anna.
You are trapped in a cycle of death. When you meet, one always perishes before your life together begins.
Heed my warning. You must NOT go to the Abbey. Search St. Mary’s Church graveyard for a familiar name if you need more proof.
I look forward to seeing you soon.
Morgan.
“It is my mother,” Leo muttered grimly, “Da always said to take her claims with a pinch of salt.”
He folded it back up and sighed.
“Looks like we need to count 199 steps to the church,” I remarked.
“You believe this posh?”
“Well… We can’t completely write it off. She knows about the necklace, about Anna and Edward… What if she is right about something?”
“She’s probably the one that planted the necklace and kept moving it.”
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if this familiar name is a glamour. We don’t even know their last names, and Anna is a trendy Victorian name.”
‘He has a point there.’
I sighed, “Well, I was going to tell you; Seri wants to go to the abbey tomorrow if you are up for it.”
“Sure. This,”–he held up the letter– “is a load of shite.”
I laughed as it started to burn in his hand.
