39 - Open Sesame

29 8 0
                                    

We make our way to the door and it swings open easily under my palm, my grandmother clearly never having removed me from the house wards. The magic crawls up my arm, sticking to my skin. A second later, it melts away to unlock the door.

The hinges are silent, as I knew they would be. Nothing in this house would ever dare bring my grandmother's ire, not even the furniture. That's how she gets away without having a staff. Well, in a way she was forced to, for no one would dare work at the Witch of Destruction's estate.

In some small way, I understand my Grandmother. She'd been part of a group that had cast a spell with disastrous consequences and yet all the repercussions fell on her shoulders - partly because she was the only one to survive. She'd always been feared but afterwards she was reviled.

There was a reason I kept my magic and my origins a secret. Whenever people did discover who I was, they kept me under constant guard in case I gave in to my dark urges and started murdering people or selling secrets. It was hard to live life knowing everyone thought you were a terrible person when you hadn't done anything to deserve it. So, I get it.

If I was her, I might have retreated from life. But she hasn't retreated, she'd turned bitter realizing if everyone was going to think the worst of her she might as well do whatever she wanted anyway. As the years continued that bitterness had turned to deep hatred and an impossible coldness.

She'd told me only once the truth of what had happened the night she gathered with others to permanently shut the bridges to both the High Realms and the Demon Realms, contrary to what popular belief thought the goal of the spell was. Instead, she ended up causing the ripple that destroyed all but this plane of the middle realms. It had been her cautionary tale - don't trust others or tell them what you are or they'll use you.

She'd told me other stories of being rebuffed, attacked, cast out, enough so that I learned everyone would hate what I was and that I had nowhere else to go.

I knew all of that, and I still couldn't understand how she'd become who she was today. A woman who would murder, who's power could command any demon to her bidding, and thought cruelty was the only way to ensure, if not loyalty, then at least obedience. I don't think she ever forgave me for leaving her. Not that I was her first descent to run away, nor would I be the last.

These thoughts are all wiped away as I step into the house and the scent of forest and cinnamon slams into me. A wide open foyer with dark stone floors greets us. There is a quietness to the house, one that when coupled with the smell would seem peaceful at first.

I manage a few steps in before I freeze, not able to make my legs move forward. Memories threaten to take me under but I ruthlessly crush them down.

Carter and Nova are slightly behind me, one on each side, and Nova gives me a long glance when I just stand there. I feel her mind brush mine and accept the contact.

"Are we going to wait for her to find us? Shouldn't we find the book while no one knows we're here?" Her mental voice is clipped.

I manage a nod and take a shaky breath. A few more steps to the left towards the hallway that leads to the library and my entire body seizes, breath catching in my throat and body going rigid. I'd killed my first man down that hallway, summoned my first demon, made my first blood contract. If I took another step I'd be sucked back in, my body just knew it.

A hand cautiously grips my left shoulder and it snaps me out enough to draw a deep breath and stumble back. Carter holds tight until I catch my breath once more.

"You okay?" He whispers aloud and my gaze snaps to him in terror.

I shake my head frantically and look towards the front door just in time to see it slam shut.

Night Witch (Book 1) ✔️Where stories live. Discover now