Page 16 of Blackheath


  “I’m not Kaden’s, because I’m yours. I always have been.” She took a deep breath. She’d never been so sure of anything in her life. “And if anyone’s going to recruit me,” she continued, “I want it to be you.”

  MAGGIE GLANCED UP at the night sky, where the moon was staring down upon the Tomlins family’s sprawling mansion.

  “Time’s running out, isn’t it?” she murmured to Joel.

  He didn’t say anything.

  “You’re afraid, and I don’t know what other options there are. Except. . . except for you to turn me into a witch yourself.”

  Joel visibly tensed. “I won’t turn you,” he answered tightly. “I won’t do that.” He grabbed for his journal and began flipping frantically through the pages again. “There’s still time.”

  “How long?” Maggie pressed.

  Joel’s gaze flickered to the full moon beyond the French doors. He said nothing.

  “It’s tonight, isn’t it?” Maggie answered for him.

  Joel exhaled sharply and let the book fall from his hands. The pages fluttered like a bird’s wings as it fell. “I’ll hide you,” he stammered. “He can’t take you if he can’t find you—”

  The look in Maggie’s eyes silenced him.

  “I won’t do it,” Joel said again.

  Maggie threw up her arms. “If you don’t, he will,” she reminded him breathlessly. “It could work, right? If you recruit me, then surely he can’t?”

  Even as she said the words, her heart was pounding in her throat and she stiffened in fear. Did she want this? Could she actually live with becoming a witch—or some version of a witch? Could she become a member of the Tomlins coven?

  Maybe, she decided.

  Or maybe this was a reckless act of desperation.

  All she knew was that she didn’t want the alternative.

  She looked deeply into Joel’s eyes. The same violet eyes she’d seen for the past seven years. “You have to,” she said simply.

  “No,” Joel whispered again, stepping away from her, stumbling. “I can’t do that to you.”

  Maggie swallowed. “Why not?” She lowered her eyes to the floor boards. “Don’t you want me?”

  “Of course I. . .” Joel stuttered. “It’s not about that,” he started again. “It’s about this.”

  He flicked his wrist towards the balcony doors and they swung open. Then he raised his arms and a gale tore through the bedroom at his command.

  “See?” he said, standing master to the wind as it shook the chandelier and rippled through their hair. “This is what I know how to do. Wind, weather, energies. Not. . . not what you’re asking me to do.”

  “But what else am I supposed to do, Joel?”

  The wind stopped and Maggie’s hair fluttered back down to rest on her shoulders.

  Joel said nothing.

  They stood in silence again, watching each other, waiting for the next move.

  “I don’t want to be part of Kaden’s coven,” Maggie repeated. “I want to be”—she looked around the bedroom—“here.”

  Joel was listening to her, deep in thought. But he was also listening to something else, too. Something beyond her ears. She could feel it.

  At last he spoke. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

  For a long moment, Maggie stayed quiet. The only sound was the wind tapping at the balcony doors.

  “What are you sorry for?” she asked after a while. “Because you won’t do it? Or because you will?”

  He stepped closer to her, drawing her into him. “Invite me,” he murmured. “Say I can cast a spell on you.”

  Maggie began to tremble as she locked her arms around him. “You can cast a spell on me,” she allowed in a weak voice.

  Joel gently pushed her hair to one side and began whispering into her ear.

  “Hear my voice,

  The words I plant,

  One more breath,

  Then sleep I grant.”

  Maggie inhaled sharply and her lips parted as the air entered her lungs. Her eyes widened in realisation just as she slumped forward into Joel’s arms and everything went dark.

  JOEL RACED THROUGH the quiet streets of Blackheath. With every pound of his feet hitting the pavement, his heart thudded inside his chest. Maggie had been right; the final hour was approaching and he couldn’t allow Kaden to perform the ritual.

  He’d tried to save Maggie, and he’d failed. Now he was out of options.

  Except one.

  He closed in on the abandoned carnival grounds. The fluorescent lights had been turned off for the season, and the rides and stalls were covered with tarps. There was nothing but darkness now. Just how Joel wanted it.

  He hopped the gate and paced across the parched soil.

  “Kaden!” he yelled, his voice reverberating across the empty carnival grounds.

  A prickle moved across his bare arms, like spiders crawling over his skin.

  All of a sudden, time felt as though it were slowing down, just as it had done at the party and at the Erridox meal. A moment later, time began moving in fast forward.

  It’s him, Joel realised, blinking as time restored its normal flow. Kaden. . . For the first time, Joel made the connection. Kaden had been at the party, and at the Errdiox meal, and now. . .

  A figure appeared from the shadows. He was bathed in moonlight, his dark hair stirring even in the windless night.

  Joel swallowed. “Kaden.”

  He smirked as he approached. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Joel squared his shoulders and closed the distance between them. “Well, I’m here.”

  “I want my girl,” Kaden hissed without missing a beat.

  Joel stiffened. “She’s not your girl.”

  Kaden laughed, and the chilling sound rippled through the night. The Haunted House loomed behind him, the train dark and motionless.

  “I marked her,” Kaden jeered. “I want her.”

  “You can’t have her,” Joel answered bluntly.

  Kaden grimaced. “Your spells and tricks won’t work. I will take the girl, and if you try to stand in my way, then my family shall bring war upon yours—”

  “Wait,” Joel cut in, holding up his palm. “I’m not stupid. I know you’re not about to give up that easy. That’s why I’m here to offer you a trade.”

  Kaden’s eyebrow cocked and a breeze began to build. The railings around the Haunted House rattled anxiously in response.

  “An eye for an eye,” Joel went on. “You can’t have her. . . but you can have me instead.”

  Kaden baulked at the offer. “What would I want with you?” he scoffed.

  Joel extended his arms. “You can kill me.”

  Abruptly the wind fell still. The railings stopped trembling and a deathly hush fell over the carnival.

  The muscles in Kaden’s jaw tensed as he considered Joel’s offer. “No,” he finally said. “I want my girl.”

  “She’s not your girl,” Joel seethed.

  “I marked her,” Kaden repeated tersely. “You are worthless to me.”

  “Oh, really?” Joel flexed his fingers. “But what about the fact that, if you kill me, my power will transfer to you? That’s how you recruits get your powers, right? And, speaking as a Chosen One, I think you might be underestimating my worth.”

  Kaden’s eyes flashed with recognition. “You’re the Chosen One?”

  Joel stepped forward into the path of moonlight. “In the flesh,” he bluffed.

  “But we thought. . . perhaps it was your brother. . .” Kaden stammered.

  “Who, Evan?” Joel mocked. “Nah. We just let people think that to protect the coven’s strength. Sort of like how people wouldn’t expect you to be the Fallows top dog, seeing as you were born human and all. Redirection and all that.”

  Kaden mulled that over for a while, which Joel took to be a good sign.

  Before any more questions could be asked, Joel extended his hand. “So?” he prompted. “What do you say? Do we have a dea
l?” A clap of lightning ruptured the sky, followed by the hollow rumble of thunder. “My life in exchange for hers.”

  CHARLIE PULLED THE Mustang up outside the old Tomlins mansion and cut the engine.

  Dude, this house is creepazoid, he thought to himself as he stepped timorously out of the car. It’d be cool for Halloween ragers, though.

  He made a mental note to plan next year’s Halloween party with Joel ASAP.

  It’ll be epic, he decided, pleased with himself.

  He plodded up the porch steps and rapped on the front door.

  No answer.

  Twisting the handle, Charlie opened the door and poked his head into the house.

  “Yello?” he called. “J-dog?”

  Nothing.

  It was dim inside the entrance hall. The only light was cast from a few flickering oil lamps that were affixed to the crumbling walls.

  “Joel?” Charlie tried again, forging further into the sprawling house to where he could be sure someone would hear his calls.

  Charlie was busy thinking about the following year’s Halloween fiesta when he heard footsteps creaking along the floorboards upstairs. He looked up to find Evan standing on the mezzanine level above, leaning over the balcony to greet the guest.

  “Hey, Charlie. You looking for Joel?”

  Charlie broke into his trademark wide grin. “Oh, hey, dude! Yeah, is he home?”

  Evan glanced along the upper corridor, then back at Charlie. “I think he’s in his room; I see a light on, anyway. Come on up.”

  Charlie began towards the staircase. “So, E-dog,” he began, bounding up the first few steps. Suddenly his foot slipped through the gap in the third floorboard, forcing him to pause to release his sneaker. “I was. . . uh, thinking . . .” Charlie grunted as he grappled to free his foot. Finally he got it unstuck. “Ah, that was stuck in there real good.”

  Evan offered a sympathetic nod.

  “Anyways,” Charlie went on, continuing up the staircase. “What was I saying? Oh yeah, so I’m thinking”—he extended his arms open wide—“major rager. You, me, Joel, all the guys, all the girls, party of the century. What do you say?” He formed a thumbs-up sign then twisted his wrists, wavering between thumbs-up and thumbs-down while he waited for Evan’s reaction.

  “Sure,” said Evan, his expression unreadable. “I mean, I’d have to run it by my dad, but. . .”

  “Awesome!” Charlie cheered. “So we’re on!” He reached the top step and gave Evan a hearty pat on the back. “It’s going to be epic.”

  Evan half smiled. “Sure,” he said noncommittally, then cleared his throat. “So, Joel’s room is right at the end of the hall. The one with the lights on.” He gestured to the far end of the long upper corridor. “Unfortunately, I don’t really have time to hang out with you guys. I told my dad that I’d help him with some stuff. . .” Evan trailed off.

  Charlie gave another thumbs-up. “No worries, bro. I just had some team stuff I wanted to run by J-dog.”

  “Well, go ahead. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

  “Thanks, E-dog,” Charlie said before marching, heavy-footed, down the hallway in the opposite direction.

  When he reached the door at the end of the hallway that Evan had indicated, Charlie knocked once and then let himself in. “Hey, J-dog—”

  Charlie’s words were cut short and he frowned.

  What the. . .?

  The light he’d seen through the crack under the door was emanating from half a dozen flickering candles that had been placed about the floor. There was no sign of Joel, but on the bed lay Maggie Ellmes, sleeping soundly.

  “Wah-hey!” Charlie exclaimed.

  He quickly covered his mouth, then frowned again when he realised that his loud reaction hadn’t disturbed Maggie from her slumber.

  “This chick is a deep sleeper,” he muttered to himself.

  A gust of wind picked up outside and the glass doors on the far side of Joel’s room banged against the bedroom walls so hard that Charlie jumped.

  Relax, C-dog, he told himself. It’s just the wind.

  Still, he couldn’t help but notice that the chick hadn’t so much as stirred at the clamour.

  Bizarre-o, thought Charlie.

  “Maggie?” he called.

  Nothing.

  “Um, Maggie Ellmes?” he clarified in a clear, raised voice. “I’m looking for Joel. Have you seen him?”

  Still nothing.

  Damn, girl, he mused in approval. You sure can sleep.

  Abandoning his attempts to wake Maggie, Charlie left Joel’s room and returned to the corridor. Evan was no longer there.

  “E-dog!” Charlie called.

  Evan appeared from behind one of the hallway’s many doors. His brow creased when he saw Charlie standing in the corridor alone.

  “Was Joel not there?” Evan asked.

  “Nah,” Charlie replied, then chuckled. “But guess what? Maggie Ellmes is asleep on his bed!” He lifted his palm in a high-five gesture, despite the fact that several metres’ distance separated himself from Evan.

  Evan ignored the gesture and gave Charlie an incredulous look. “What?”

  Charlie dropped his hand. “For reals, bro,” he said. “She’s in there, sleeping. I couldn’t wake her.” Then his saucer-shaped eyes widened. “I hope she’s not, like, deadzo. El deceasediado and all that.”

  Evan inhaled sharply and began pacing quickly towards Joel’s room. When he reached the end of the hallway, he flung open the door.

  “Oh, god,” he choked at the sight of Maggie lying unconscious on the bed. “Joel,” he murmured, “what have you done?”

  “What’s he done?” Charlie asked, hovering behind Evan in the doorway.

  Evan didn’t answer.

  The two boys approached the bed and stared down at Maggie.

  “Yo, is she dead?” Charlie whispered.

  Evan shook his head. “No.”

  Then Evan crouched down before Maggie’s sleeping body and hovered his hands over her torso. He murmured a few words that Charlie couldn’t understand.

  “Uh, say what, bro?” Charlie said.

  But his question was forgotten when, all of a sudden, Maggie inhaled a gasp of air and sat bolt upright on the bed.

  Charlie jumped back in shock.

  “Where is he?” Evan asked softly from where he remained crouched by the bedside.

  Maggie blinked over at him. She seemed to know exactly what he meant.

  “Kaden,” she whispered back, her face ashen. “Kaden Fallows.”

  JOEL BREATHED STEADILY in and out, watching a bank of mist move slowly across the full moon. He waited impatiently as Kaden paced back and forth in front of the Haunted House.

  How much longer is this going to take? Joel wondered, balling his hands into fists so hard that his fingernails cut into his palms. What better offer is there than killing a freakin’ Chosen One?

  He liked the way that sounded. Chosen One.

  Maybe I am jealous of Evan, after all. Go figure, he thought with a morsel of amusement.

  Evan.

  Suddenly Joel was hit with a pang of sadness. He was going to die and leave Evan. Not to mention Pippin, and Ainsley too. But what other choice did he have? Kaden had put a mark on Maggie, and nothing Joel did could stop him.

  Except this.

  He looked back up to the moon. It had almost completely disappeared behind the mist now. Of course he’d thought about Maggie’s suggestion—even before she’d suggested it, actually. If only she knew how much he wished she could be in his coven, part of his life, part of him. . . But he couldn’t risk her life to turn her into who-knew-what. It was simply not meant to be.

  And instead he’d die a hero, which seemed like a pretty cool way to go.

  Something buzzed inside his jeans pocket and the Phantom of the Opera theme tune began playing.

  Kaden eyeballed him suspiciously.

  “It’s my ringtone,” Joel said, cringing at the sound of the of
f-key tune. “It’s a Chosen One thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

  He withdrew the phone from his pocket and checked the screen.

  Evan.

  Joel pressed cancel on the call. He couldn’t talk to Evan right now. And not only because he was in the middle of bartering with Kaden over his own life, but also because he couldn’t risk hearing his brother’s voice at the moment. The sound of it might make him rethink his whole plan. Or think at all, for that matter.

  He couldn’t risk thinking right now. Maggie’s life depended on it.

  Damn my chivalry, Joel mused.

  He was about to return the phone to his pocket when the Phantom of the Opera theme began to ring out for a second time.

  Again, Kaden frowned.

  Again, Joel cringed.

  “Persistent,” he muttered, cancelling the call.

  He quickly typed out a text message to his brother. Busy, he wrote.

  As he pressed send, he realised that that probably hadn’t been the best last message he could have sent his brother. It wasn’t really all that memorable.

  Joel gestured for Kaden to keep on pacing, then hastily began typing out a better last message.

  You’re the best, he wrote to Evan before pressing send again.

  The Phantom of the Opera rang out for a third time.

  Stop calling me! I’m busy, Joel typed without thinking.

  He sent it, then sighed. That one was an even worse last message than the first.

  He quickly opened a new message box and typed another last message. You’re still the best. He pressed send.

  I hate texting, he thought. Texting is not how I want to be spending my final hour.

  He glanced up to see Kaden still marching to and fro in front of the Haunted House with his fist pressed to his mouth. Joel turned his phone off and slipped it into his pocket.

  There, he thought. No more distractions. No more thinking.

  “Uh, sorry about that,” Joel said.

  “Your family?” Kaden asked, stopping to observe his rival carefully.

  Joel shrugged. “Yeah, but. . .”

  “But what?” Kaden pressed.

  “But they’re not here.” Joel’s gaze wandered to the Haunted House behind Kaden. To the train that he had watched for so many hours. Its carriages were now empty and its wheels were still. “And they won’t come looking for me, either,” Joel added. “No repercussions. This is between you and me, right?”