The Last Witch: 3.5: Chapter 8

want is for Callie to see her mother smothered in blood, especially after scaring the hell out of her at the lake. So Dad goes in first and distracts her as I sneak upstairs to the bathroom.

I strip off and step into the shower to clean myself off, scrubbing the blood from my skin with soap that smells of lavender. A smell I now recoil from as it’s the scent that filled my nostrils as the poor creature bled to death.

I shut the shower off and get dressed, the whole time, replaying the incident over and over.

Who the fuck was in that cloak and what did they take from the unicorn?

And why?

Is it connected to the missing witches? Are they lying in the woods somewhere, carved up and left to rot?

The girl from The Stolen’s camp did say that animals had been mutilated a few miles away.

This all seems far too connected.

I shudder at the memory of that lightning. Not the lightning today from the stranger, but Theo’s and Grayson’s lightning. Their sneers. Their hands…

I remind myself. As I do every day, again and again.

Energy magic is one of the seven realms, and despite all the positives that realm has, it’s feared and considered a little darker and more dangerous than the rest, all because it belonged to Theo and Grayson.

It’s just an unfortunate coincidence that the first person to attack me since arriving here would have that power to wield against me.

They also had that powder that created the black smoke. It was a spell. A potion of some kind. The teachings of spells and potions are limited and only taught in controlled spaces and to those who have been vetted. We’re all so new at this and magic is dangerous. Spells and potions… that’s highly restricted.

Someone must have a list of names of those who have been learning this stuff.

Someone must know something about all of this!

The mirror on the wall cracks as I furiously wrap myself in a towel. That’s not good. Closing my eyes. I take a very forced, calming breath. I can’t allow my anger to get the better of me. I can’t!

When I open the bathroom door, I find Callie sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, brushing the hair on her favourite doll.

She looks up and shows me a beautiful smile.

‘Hi, Mummy,’ she greets. ‘Are you feeling better?’

Callie peers around the side of the door and frowns. I look back and see my bloody clothes left on the bathroom floor. I quickly step out and close the door before kneeling in front of her, worried I’ve traumatised the poor child even further.

‘Hi, sweet girl. I’m perfectly fine. Are you okay?’ I sweep her hair from her face. Such a mess of deep brown curls, the exact same shade as Gabriel’s.

Her eyes narrow as she reaches out and runs her finger across my cheek. I wince.

‘You got a cut,’ she says quietly.

‘Well,’ I smile. ‘That’s an easy fix.’ I rest my finger on the cut. My head hurts as I heal myself but to ease her worry, it’s a small price to pay. ‘Now tell me, are you okay? I know what happened must have scared you and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Grandpa said you didn’t get any scrapes or bruises.’

‘Can you teach me to do that one day?’ she asks. Her arms raise above her head as she makes an exaggerated . ‘It was so cool. I wish I could do that.’

‘One day you will,’ I tell her. She scrambles into my lap and looks up at me with wonderous and curious eyes. ‘That, and so much more. You know why?’

‘Because I’m an Arcane Witch? Just like you?’

‘That’s right. And you know what else? I bet you’ll be much better at it than me.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

‘When my magic comes, will I have nightmares like you do?’ she asks, a tinge of concern tainting her words.

‘No, baby,’ I assure her. ‘Mummy has bad dreams because she got very lost and because she had to fight the baddies we talked about. The baddies that wanted to stop us from using magic. Daddy and I told you about the baddies, remember?’

She nods, no doubt recalling the very light version of events that we described to her several months ago. That there were evil people who wanted to stop witches and put them in prison. A simple and lighter version of the truth, but a version, nonetheless. She knows that I was lost in another place, one that kept us apart for those first five years. And that sometimes, I have bad dreams about that place.

‘You will never have to fight those baddies like we did because we beat them and now we’re all safe,’ I promise.

Images of the unicorn flash in my mind and I pull her closer.

‘We’re safe,’ she repeats with a firm nod, tightening my arms around her middle. ‘We’re safe. We’re here. And we’re together. Right, Mummy?’

‘Abosfudginglutely,’ I agree, kissing her cheek. ‘And I promise I’ll make sure we stay that way. No matter what.’