Page 12 of Blackheath


  If only Joyless could see me now, Maggie mused. Not just on time, but early!

  She glimpsed up at a stained-glass window that was catching the early morning sun’s rays. She paused to admire the patterns it was throwing across the dark wood floor.

  If only Isla could see me now, she amended silently.

  A week had passed and Isla was still unconscious in the hospital’s critical care wing. But Maggie had a feeling things were about to get better.

  In no time, she was outside in the orchard. Dawn’s light bathed the bare trees with a soft pink hue. The air was fresh and crisp, and the only sounds were those of birds and squirrels rustling amongst the fallen autumn leaves.

  Ahead, the gothic-style school building looked forsaken. The Tomlins family’s silver Jeep was parked on the asphalt next to a few of the teachers’ cars.

  Maggie’s heart began to pound with the knowledge that Joel was there—and that he had come to see her. She pursed her lips, resenting that feeling. Joel wasn’t hers, and he never would be. Nor should she want him to be—he was a Tomlins, after all.

  This is business, she reminded herself. Strictly business.

  She quickly checked her phone again. There were no new messages, but the one sent from Joel last night stared boldly back at her.

  Meet me at school before homeroom, was all it said.

  And here they were.

  Maggie crossed through the stone entrance that led onto the school grounds. She spotted Joel at once, leaning against the annex wall. He waved as she approached, his violet eyes seeming almost translucent in the soft morning sunlight.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she replied, noticing a dimple in his check that she’d never paid attention to before. Her heart rate quickened again.

  “How’s Isla?” he asked, casting a glance to the boarding house.

  “No change.”

  They fell silent for a moment.

  “So, what’s this about?” Maggie asked at last. “Why did you want to meet me here so early?”

  Joel smiled a little. “I have an idea,” he began. “Well, actually, I have a few ideas. Quite a few. . . various ideas, really. . .”

  Maggie made circular motions with her hand to hurry him along. “So what are they? Tell me.”

  He cleared his throat. “The thing is, telling you isn’t really going to work. I’m going to have to show you. And by that I mean test them out on you.” He broke into a hopeful grin. “Are you up for some trial and error?”

  Maggie shrugged. “Sure.” Then she paused and raised an index finger. “Hold on a sec. By ‘trial and error’, do you mean. . .” Her voice hushed. “Are you talking about spells?”

  Joel nodded.

  “Oh, fabulous,” Maggie drawled. “And am I going to get hexed from this ‘trial and error’ plan of yours?” she asked him.

  “You’re already hexed pretty bad,” he reminded her. “I doubt I’ll make it worse.”

  She exhaled sharply. “You’re not exactly filling me with confidence here, Joel.”

  He flipped his palms skyward. “It’s trial and error, remember? Trial and error isn’t supposed to come with confidence.”

  Maggie frowned.

  “Odds are you’ll be fine,” Joel added.

  Maggie’s frown deepened.

  “Okay,” she accepted grudgingly. “I mean, I guess if there’s a chance it’ll help Isla. And me, obviously. And if you don’t have any better ideas. . .”

  “That’s the spirit!” Joel commended. He patted her on the head and began towards the Jeep.

  “Where are you going?” Maggie called after him.

  “Where do you think?” he called back.

  Right. She shivered. Spells. That means. . .

  “My place,” Joel answered for her. “You know the drill.”

  Maggie hesitated. A cold morning wind stirred, whipping at her ponytail.

  Jeep keys in hand, Joel turned and looked at her carefully. “Problem?” he asked.

  Maggie looked between him and the school. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s just that. . .”

  “What?” Joel urged from beside the Jeep’s driver’s side door. A note of anxiety coloured his tone.

  “It’s just that I’ve never been early to school before,” Maggie finished. “It seems a shame to ditch before I’ve even gone inside.”

  “Oh.” The tension was gone from Joel’s voice now. “I’ve never been early, either.”

  They both looked towards the oppressive stone building.

  “So, should we go inside?” Maggie suggested. “Just to dip a toe in or something?”

  Joel pondered it for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” he conceded, walking towards her. “It seems a shame not to.”

  Together, they paced through the annex and flung open the double doors. The school hallway was quiet and unlit. Wisps of weak morning light poured in through the tiny, high windows and glistened off the bank of metal lockers that lined the wall.

  Maggie placed one foot in the hallway, keeping her other foot securely in the outer annex. Joel followed her lead, then looked over at her.

  “Is this good enough?” he asked.

  “This’ll do,” Maggie confirmed. Her gaze travelled furtively down the dimly lit corridor rolling out before them. “We’re officially in school early,” she whispered. “I guess I can tick that off my bucket list now.”

  Joel’s nose wrinkled. “Wow. Dream big,” he teased. “Can we get out of here now?”

  “Yes, and quickly, before anyone actually sees us.”

  Without another word, they retreated into the annex and paced swiftly out into the cool morning air.

  They closed in on the Jeep and Joel jumped into the driver’s seat. He turned on the engine as Maggie clambered into the passenger seat beside him.

  This was the first time she’d actually been inside the Jeep. It smelled like Joel, she realised. It was an earthy, fiery scent that made her heart flutter a little. A length of twine with a brass coin attached to the end hung from the rear view mirror. Maggie touched the coin with her fingertips and her skin tingled.

  “What’s this?” she asked Joel.

  He cast her a sideways glance as he reversed out of the parking spot. “It’s a charm,” he answered vaguely. “A protection thing.”

  “Oh,” said Maggie, withdrawing her hand quickly and tucking it into her lap.

  Joel laughed under his breath. “It’s protection,” he reiterated. “Don’t be scared. It’s good.”

  “I’m not scared,” Maggie said a little too quickly.

  She sat stiffly in the passenger seat as the Jeep pulled out onto the main road and left the school behind.

  Despite her waves of trepidation, Maggie was sure of one thing: she was safe with Joel. Somehow, something deep inside told her that was true. That she was protected with him.

  But as they sped away from the suburban town and headed into the hills, she couldn’t ignore the knot that had formed in her stomach.

  “There’s something you need to know,” Joel said, breaking the silence that had formed between them.

  The tone of his voice set off alarm bells in Maggie’s head. It’s about Isla, she guessed, her mind racing ahead. He’s going to tell me that she’s beyond saving. Her stomach lurched.

  “Tell me,” she urged.

  “It’s about Kaden.”

  Maggie immediately felt herself relax. “Oh,” she replied. “What about him?”

  Joel glanced her way, one hand resting on the steering wheel. It was almost as if his pale eyes were looking through her, she realised. Almost as though he were seeing something she couldn’t.

  “Kaden’s marked you,” he said at last.

  “Huh?” Maggie’s brow creased. “What are you talking about?”

  “Kaden,” Joel repeated. “You know, that new guy in school? The one you were talking to at the party last weekend?” he elaborated, his tone taking on a note that Maggie didn’t re
cognise.

  “Yeah,” Maggie said, confused. “What about him?”

  “He’s the one behind this. He has a spell on you.”

  Maggie’s jaw dropped. “What? You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

  “Of course I’m not kidding.”

  “Kaden?” she breathed. “Kaden Fallows is a. . . you-know-what?”

  “A witch,” Joel said the word for her. “And yeah, he is.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Maggie asked, hearing her own voice echoing strangely in her ears.

  “Because I’m sure.”

  “But. . .” she trailed off. Dumbfounded, she stared into the forest beyond the Jeep’s windows. “Why would he do that to me?”

  Joel didn’t respond.

  His silence sent a chill down her spine. She turned to face him now. “Do you think he has a spell on Isla, too?”

  Joel flipped his palm skyward before letting it fall back down onto the steering wheel. “It’s possible, I guess,” he told her. “Unlikely, though. Anyway, the spell he has on you is the one we should be focusing on.”

  “What kind of spell did he put on me?” Maggie pressed, gripping the edge of her seat. “Is it a curse?”

  “Kind of,” Joel answered without looking at her. “It’s a mark.”

  “A mark?” she repeated uncertainly. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he wants you,” Joel elaborated tautly.

  Maggie’s head was growing fuzzy now, and her heart was beating faster with every word Joel said.

  “Wants me for what?” she pushed.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Joel!” Maggie squealed, throwing up her hands. “That’s not a sufficient answer!”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Try,” she told him, exasperated.

  His eyes remained fixed on the narrow forest road as they moved steadily upwards through the hills. “He wants you. . . to be in his coven,” he clarified at last. “He’s recruiting.”

  “He’s recruiting me to be in his coven,” Maggie repeated, hardly believing the words she was saying.

  Joel nodded. “It’s something some witch families do. Not mine,” he clarified quickly, “but some.”

  “Like Kaden’s, for one,” Maggie supplied, staring at him in disbelief.

  Joel nodded again. “They find a human that they like, and then they mark them, staking their claim. Then, by the next full moon. . .” he trailed off before meeting her gaze. “It’s actually a compliment.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “Oh, well then,” she exclaimed. “If it’s a compliment then I guess that makes it all okay!”

  “I didn’t say it was okay,” Joel said calmly. “I just said that it’s a compliment. He obviously sees something in you that he likes. . . something he thinks he can work with.”

  “Ew!” Maggie squirmed in her seat. “You’re making it worse.”

  “You asked me to explain it,” he defended himself.

  They sat in silence for a while as the Jeep continued to wind its way through the climbing hills.

  Maggie clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling. What could Kaden possibly want from her? she wondered grimly. What had he seen in her that made her a good candidate for his coven? She shuddered.

  “So Kaden put some mark on me because he thinks I’m good raw material to work with,” Maggie summed up after a while.

  “Basically, yeah,” Joel confirmed.

  “And what is it, exactly, that he plans to do to me?” Maggie asked.

  Joel sighed. “There’s a ritual. It turns humans into. . . into something else.”

  Maggie exhaled in a rush of breath. “What kind of something else?”

  “I don’t know how to explain it,” Joel said again. “A witch, of sorts. But a synthetic version.”

  “What, with . . . powers and stuff?”

  “That’s best case,” Joel uttered darkly. “As far as I know, human recruits absorb powers. Usually from a witch who’s on the way out, if you know what I mean. Dead,” he clarified anyway. “But more often than not, it’s the human who ends up dead.”

  Maggie’s eyes went wide and she threw her head back against the headrest. “What?” she cried. “You’re not serious, are you? This has to be a joke.” She stared pointedly at Joel. “This is a wind-up, right?”

  Joel shook his head. “It’s not. But we’ll fix it, I promise. I’ll take the mark off you. I’ll block him somehow.”

  She studied Joel’s profile. She could tell he meant what he was saying, however crazy it might be.

  “And then what?” she demanded. “Will he try again? Will he retaliate?”

  Joel didn’t say anything as he negotiated a particularly tight turn in the road. The gnarled branches of the trees scraped at the driver’s side windows, almost as though they were trying to reach inside. The protective gold coin hanging from the rear view mirror began to swing wildly and Joel tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted at last. “I haven’t got that far in the plan yet. Let’s just work on breaking the spell he has on you, okay? Besides, if he retaliates, it’ll be me he comes after, not you.”

  Maggie’s stomach flipped. “What will he do to you?”

  Joel shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  “Don’t say that!” she choked. “What will he do?”

  Joel didn’t reply.

  Maggie swallowed. “I’m scared, Joel,” she said quietly. “For me and for you.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Joel assured her, his eyes still trained on the road. “Everything’s under control.”

  Maggie turned to the window without responding. To her, things seemed anything but under control. She sighed heavily, wishing she could go back in time. Back to before she’d ever visited Madam Emerald’s fortune telling tent and found out about this horrible curse.

  “Why did Kaden have to come to Blackheath in the first place?” she muttered.

  Joel glanced over and gave her a meaningful look. He didn’t need to say the words; she already knew the answer.

  Kaden had come here for her.

  AFTER MAGGIE AND Joel had driven the rest of the way through the wooded hills in an uneasy silence, the Jeep finally reached the clearing in front of the Tomlins family’s house. The drive, which had seemed to last an eternity for Maggie, was suddenly over too soon. She looked up at the towering mansion, watching wordlessly as the wind banged the building’s crumbling shutters against its ancient stone walls.

  Joel cut the engine and offered Maggie an encouraging grin.

  She summoned a nervous smile back, and together they climbed out of the Jeep. Side by side, they paced towards the old mansion. Her heart rate quickened with each step.

  Don’t be a baby, she scolded herself. After all, she’d already been to the Tomlins mansion once before, and it had been fine. A spider fest, but fine.

  Oddly, as they ascended the steps of the ramshackle front porch, Maggie was met with a sense of warmth. Despite its grim appearance, there was something welcoming about the old building. Perhaps it was Joel’s company that gave her comfort, or perhaps the sprawling house wasn’t as hostile as it first seemed. Whatever it was, right at that moment, she felt okay. And that was good enough.

  Joel heaved on the front door and it swung open with a groan. Seeing the entrance hall for the first time in daylight, Maggie winced.

  “After you,” Joel said, ushering her inside with a broad sweep of his arm.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she took a big step over the threshold to avoid a rotten floorboard.

  Ms Joy’s etiquette lessons ran through her mind. It is always proper to give a host a compliment upon entering the house.

  “Um. . .” she managed.

  Joel directed her gaze to the left, where an archway opened out into a kitchen space full of a hodgepodge of cupboards and stacks of ancient pots.

  “I did th
at,” he told her proudly. “It took me all morning once.”

  “Oh. Okay. It’s. . . nice.”

  His satisfied smile twinkled in his violet eyes. “You think so? I did it.”

  Maggie nodded politely.

  Joel began up the wide staircase, avoiding the broken third step. Maggie followed in his footsteps to the upper hallway, then trailed him down the long dark corridor to the sanctuary of his bedroom. Once inside, she felt herself relax a fraction. It was nice in there; nicer than she’d remembered, anyway. Joel had done what he could to make it pleasant, and it had worked. The wood floor was clean and the peeling wallpaper had been covered with notes and photos. And with the morning light streaming in through the glass French doors, it almost looked cosy.

  Joel crossed the room and retrieved a leather-bound journal from his bedside. He sat down on the edge of the bed—which he’d hastily made this time, Maggie noticed—and began flipping through the worn pages.

  “Is that a witch book?” Maggie asked.

  Joel nodded, but didn’t say anything. His attention was on the handwritten pages.

  Maggie tentatively perched beside him on the edge of the bed and tried to resist the temptation to peer down at the journal. However, she did glimpse parts of a few handwritten subheadings.

  Evan’s Spell To Sense Danger. . .

  My Spell To Restore Calm. . .

  Notes on Herbs. . .

  Maggie sat quietly until he stopped on a relevant page.

  “Here we go,” he muttered to himself, angling the journal for Maggie to see.

  She turned her head towards the journal and read the heading: Tomlins Binding Spell. Her eyes travelled further down the page. One must only interfere with a witch’s spell in extreme circumstances. For instance: (1) risk of exposure; (2) unjustified danger; (3) warfare. . .

  Maggie swallowed hard. She’d known her situation was bad, but she hadn’t known it was that bad.

  “This is the spell I had in mind,” said Joel, pointing to the page. He tapped his index finger twice on top of the messy handwriting. “I can do this,” he decided. “I think.”

  “Great,” Maggie said, then gave a nervous laugh. “I think.”