Joel had continued to stare blankly at the peeling paint, not saying anything.
What does okay mean, anyway? he’d wondered as Evan had left the house with Ainsley and closed the door behind them.
Had he been okay when his fish had died—when he’d taken the fish food to the tank only to find Flipper floating on the water’s surface? Had he been okay when his mother had disappeared the first time, leaving a hole in his heart that had torn away at him every single second of every single day? Had he been okay when she’d returned, only to disappear again a few years later?
Am I okay now that Dad’s gone, too?
Maximus had abandoned them with no warning four days before, leaving them alone to take care of each other with nothing more than a note to remember him by.
My boys, the note had said. I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have to find her, and when I do, I’ll bring her home and we can all be together again. We can finally be a family, just like we were supposed to be.
Staring down at his mushy breakfast cereal, Joel’s blood had boiled just thinking about that note.
Screw your idea of family, he’d thought vehemently.
And then he’d lifted his untouched cereal bowl and thrown it across the room. It had crashed into the tatty cabinets above the sink and smashed into smithereens. Thick, soggy globs of cereal mush had dripped down the cupboard doors and landed in a slopping mess on the kitchen counter.
Somewhere in the other end of the modest house, his newborn brother had begun to cry. It was a sound that Joel had spent the last few days ignoring. The mere idea of another baby had still been too raw in Joel’s mind to process, let alone accept.
The baby’s wails had grown louder—too loud to be overlooked any longer. And Evan wouldn’t be back for nearly an hour.
Warily, Joel had risen to his feet and walked into the dim corridor, his feet moving slowly across the threadbare carpet until he’d reached the door where the cries had been coming from.
Carefully, Joel had twisted the doorknob and ventured into the room for the first time since the baby had arrived. The space had been full of unfamiliar things: a crib, a blue crocheted blanket, and a tiny squealing baby with tears streaming down its crinkled little face.
“Hello,” Joel had said, peering down at the strange red-faced creature before him. “You know this is all your fault, right?”
The baby’s wails had grown even louder, making Joel frown.
“It’s true,” he’d insisted. “If you hadn’t shown up. . . Hell, if you’d never even been born, then Dad would still be here. And everything would be a lot quieter,” he’d added, plugging his fingers into his ears.
But he had still been able to hear the crying.
“What do you want from me?” he’d asked the baby, dropping his hands to his sides once again. “Evan fed you already, and he changed you, too. So what’s your deal, loudmouth?”
The baby had kept on crying.
“Shut up, already,” Joel had groaned. “I can’t wait until we can dump you on one of the alleged aunts. You’re not part of this family. You don’t belong here.”
The baby’s face had turned tomato red and its cries were growing hoarse, penetrating Joel’s every fibre.
“Okay, okay!” Joel had yelled. “Just shut up already!”
Then he’d lifted the tiny baby from the crib and held him against his chest. Against his heart.
“Is this what you want?” Joel had demanded. “You want a hug, loudmouth?”
The baby’s cries had immediately eased, causing Joel’s throat to grow tight.
“Oh, so you think being hugged makes everything all better?” he’d asked the baby; the anger had begun to leave his voice. “Is that what you think? Babies are so stupid,” he’d commented, peering down at the child in his arms. “You’re the stupidest baby I’ve ever come across.”
Joel had begun to rock his baby brother back and forth in his arms, quietening him completely.
“I suppose you want to see around the house now, too,” Joel had said with a sigh. “I can tell you’re as nosy as you are loud.”
He’d walked back into the hallway, cradling the cooing baby in his arms.
“That’s mine and Evan’s room,” Joel had told his new baby brother, nodding towards a closed door at the end of the narrow hallway. “You’re not allowed to go in there.”
Then he’d turned and nodded at another doorway.
“That’s the bathroom,” he’d pointed out, then angled the baby in his arms. “And that’s Ainsley’s room. And,” he’d said, turning back the way they’d come, “this is your room, obviously. It used to be Dad’s room, but then you showed up and. . .”
Joel’s voice had gone slack in his throat. How was he supposed to explain it when he hadn’t even been able to make sense of it himself?
“Well, I think you’re old enough to hear the truth,” he’d told the baby frankly. “Dad’s not coming back this time. He’s abandoned us.” He’d looked down at the baby again, his gaze softening. “But I suppose you know all about that, huh? They ditched you real fast. At least I had a couple of good years with them.”
The baby had smiled at that, making Joel laugh.
“Babies,” he’d muttered under his breath. “So stupid.”
Then he’d carried on walking, back towards the kitchen and living room.
“So, this is where we eat and watch TV,” he’d pointed out. “And that’s the doorstep where you were left. And. . . that’s pretty much it.”
The baby had reached out a chubby pink hand and touched Joel’s cheek.
Joel had cleared his throat. “I’ve decided that I might let you stay with us for a little while,” he’d revealed. “The alleged aunts aren’t very nice, and I guess you’ve had a pretty tough week—what with all the abandonment.”
Joel had gazed around the room then, taking in the old sofa, the coffee table piled high with mail, the empty spot on the entertainment centre where Flipper’s tank had once been.
With the baby still safely in his arms, Joel had sunk onto the sofa. He peered down at the remnants of a discarded apple core and his nose crinkled.
“Gross,” he’d muttered, reaching down to retrieve the rotting core with one hand while still cradling the baby in the other arm. The core broke in half at his touch, spilling its tiny brown pips down between the sofa cushions.
Joel had groaned. The baby had cooed.
Looking down at the smiling baby, Joel couldn’t help but smile back. “You’re just a little pip, aren’t you?” he’d said. “I’m going to call you Pip. Sir Pippin, the Prince of Tomlinsland. Do you like it?”
The baby had kept smiling.
Joel had smiled back.
“Yeah, I thought you would.”
A voice interrupted Joel’s memory, drifting into his mind as though projected across the astral planes. It jolted him back to the present with a bitter thud. Suddenly Joel found himself back on the floor of his bedroom in the ramshackle old mansion, where he’d been lying immobile for what felt like hours. Days, maybe.
“I’m coming for you, Joel Tomlins,” said the voice, which was clearly meant to be heard by his ears only. “You wanted a war, and now you’ve got one.”
Joel recognised the voice at once.
“Kaden,” was all he could manage to say before he succumbed to the blackness once again.
JOEL AWOKE AGAIN to banging on the front door. He knew exactly who it was, too. And he had to get to her.
It took no small effort for him to get to his feet. Then, with speckled vision and unsteady legs, he staggered out of his room, into the hallway, and down the stairs. In his hazy state, he was unable to judge the broken floorboards with his usual precision, and loose nails and splinters cut into his feet. He almost broke his leg on the missing third step before stumbling to the front door and flinging it open, nearly tearing it off its hinges.
Through his bleary eyes he saw her.
Maggie. Surrounded by clear gold
light.
Behind her, the wind rocked through the forest, and the trees cast dark shadows into the deep unknown.
Maggie’s face, which had first appeared angry, melted into an expression of concern.
“What happened to you?” she whispered, her hands flying to her face. “You look like death.”
“I feel worse,” Joel muttered. He looked over her shoulder. “How did you. . . ?”
“I walked,” she said simply. “I had to see you.”
“Come in,” he said, ushering her into the house and bolting the door behind them.
Once safely inside, Maggie placed her hand on Joel’s arm. However, he soon recognised that she wasn’t seeking comfort; rather, she was steadying him as he swayed.
“Joel,” she breathed. “What’s wrong with you?”
He raked his hand through his hair. “I’ve tried everything, Maggie,” he half choked. “And I can’t get him off you. I can’t get rid of him.” He spat out the final word through clenched teeth. The very thought of Kaden infesting her tore him up inside.
“I was worried,” Maggie went on, her voice quiet and trembling. “When you didn’t show up at school today, I thought something might have happened to you.”
“His hold is too strong,” Joel went on, as if she hadn’t spoken at all. Not for the first time, he wondered how a human-born recruit had accumulated such vast powers as a witch; it made no sense. “I’ve tried everything, but it’s still on you. . .”
He reached out and trailed his fingers along a strand of her honey coloured hair. There, in the cool evening light of the entrance hall, with the day’s last rays of sun spilling through the tall windows, Joel could see the golden glow of the spell on Maggie. He saw it as clear as day, as if it were a physical part of her being. All of his spells and casting had done nothing to help her; all they’d done was leave him broken of body and hazy of mind.
Maggie inhaled and closed her eyes at his touch.
Scarcely thinking, he drew her into him and held her in his arms. He breathed in the sweet scent of her hair as they stood entwined in the hallway, their hearts beating quickly as one.
I can’t let Kaden take her. His stomach lurched at the thought.
Why had it taken this for him to realise how he felt about her? She meant so much to him—enough to risk his life for. Why hadn’t he recognised it before?
Maggie was the only girl that saw him for who he really was. She wasn’t charmed by his witchcraft, or frightened of him, or awestruck by his uncommon looks. When she looked at him, what she saw was just him—and he saw her too, warts and all.
Even from the very first day he’d met her, he’d known that she was something special. She’d been a feisty pre-teen when she’d first shown up in Blackheath, the resident new girl in school and the newest addition to the old boarding house, where she’d had to live because her family couldn’t care for her.
Abandoned, Joel had thought at the time.
It had been something he could empathise with, seeing as he’d already been left by his mother once.
They’d been friends, sure. But then they’d grown up, and things had gotten. . .
Complicated, Joel thought now.
But it wasn’t complicated anymore. Now it was just him and her. And there was no way he was going to let Kaden take her. He wasn’t going to lose her all over again.
“Will it hurt?” Maggie whispered into his chest. “When they make me a witch, I mean.”
He pulled away and met her eyes. It broke his heart to see the faint glimmer of purple shining through the gold.
“It won’t happen,” he said firmly. “I told you, I won’t let it. I’ll find a way.”
She buried her face in his chest again, and he nestled his chin on top of her head. They stood that way, fused together, listening to the wind as it rattled the window panes.
“It’s going to be okay,” Joel promised her.
But even as he said the words, the voice from earlier was still speaking to him. It was taunting him at a level heard only by his own ears.
“I’m coming for you,” Kaden hissed.
AS THE SUN began to set, Maggie went out and stood on Joel’s bedroom balcony to watch the iridescent blues and purples of twilight darken the forest. It was quite beautiful, really. She found herself wondering if she would still be able to appreciate this if she was turned into a witch. Would she still have her own thoughts and feelings?
She gazed at the faint outline of the full moon that was just beginning to show itself, in the limbo of night and day.
Like it or not, she was still marked. And Kaden was coming for her.
She glanced over her shoulder at Joel, who was working tirelessly in the room behind her. He was scattering herbs on a candle flame and muttering words that she couldn’t quite decipher. He was trying so hard—and he was doing it all for her.
He was broken, barely able to walk or speak, and yet he kept trying. She could almost feel his pain as though it were surging through her own veins. She knew that very soon, for his sake, she would beg him to stop.
Her thoughts were interrupted when her phone began to ring from inside her jacket pocket. She withdrew it warily, unsure of who might be calling her. Probably Ms Joy, wondering why she’d skipped afternoon classes and missed detention to boot.
Maggie glanced down at her phone and saw Isla’s name flash across the screen. Her heart skipped a beat. She hurriedly pressed answer and held the phone to her ear.
“Isla?” she exclaimed. Her voice was dwarfed by the wind that was whipping at her hair as she held onto the balcony railings.
“Mags,” Isla’s voice returned to her, weak but there.
Maggie’s eyes brimmed with tears at the sound of her friend’s voice. “You’re awake!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah,” Isla replied with a soft giggle. “I’m awake. Ms Joy said I’d been out for a while.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually speaking to you.” Maggie laughed in a rush of emotion. “It’s been so long.”
“Really?” came Isla’s reply. “Weird. I feel like I just spoke to you yesterday!”
“What did the doctors say?”
Isla gave an audible yawn. “They think I picked up a virus or something,” she explained. “They want me to stay in the hospital tonight, just to make sure it’s passed. But I should be able to come back to the dorm tomorrow.”
Maggie exhaled in relief. “That’s great news, Isla.”
“Where are you?” Isla asked.
“I’m at Joel’s house.” She glanced over her shoulder again and caught sight of Joel. He was reading intently from his journal, his lips moving silently. “And I think I’m going to be here for a while,” she told her friend.
“Joel Tomlins?” A note of surprise coloured Isla’s voice. “Whoa. How much have I missed?”
“We’ve. . .” Maggie trailed off, searching for words. “We’ve kind of been hanging out, I guess.”
“You and Tomlins, huh?” said Isla. “Whatever floats your boat. Besides, that leaves more Kaden Fallows for the rest of us,” she added with a mischievous titter.
Maggie swallowed, unsure of what to say. How was she supposed to explain all this?
Hey Isla, glad you’ve woken up from your coma. And oh, by the way, the guy you like is a witch and he’s trying to recruit me into his coven.
“Well, I think you should go for it with Joel,” Isla’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I’ve always figured you two were soulmates.” She gave a sleepy laugh.
Maggie snorted. “Since when?”
“Since always!”
“You’ve never said that before.”
Isla sighed impatiently into the phone line. “That’s because you always insist you hate each other. When really everybody knows you’ve loved each other since you were kids.” She erupted into giggles.
Maggie felt herself blush from ear to ear. She could hardly believe she was having this conversation on Joel’s balcony, with Joel i
n the room behind her. Not to mention the fact that it seemed way too light-hearted and normal as compared to how everything else had been going lately.
“Maggie and Joel, together forever,” Isla was teasing now, blissfully unaware of Maggie’s sinister circumstances. “Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
This time Maggie didn’t respond. Her hands suddenly went ice cold.
“Are you still there?” Isla asked.
With a start, Maggie regained her composure. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I just got distracted by what you said.” She laughed uneasily. “Forever is a long time, don’t you think?”
Isla chuckled. “Whatever. Anyway, Mags,” she said, her tone altering slightly, “I’ve got to go. The doctor’s just arrived. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay. I’m so glad you’re feeling better,” Maggie said. The tears were suddenly brimming in her eyes again. Her best friend—the closest thing she’d ever had to a sister—was going to be alright. “And Isla? Love you.”
Isla snorted. “Love you too, weirdo.”
And then the line went dead.
Maggie looked back into Joel’s bedroom. She turned just in time to see Joel’s latest attempt at a spell fail in a puff of candle smoke. Joel pounded the hardwood floor with his fist and swore under his breath.
Maggie turned back to face the forest. She shivered, though not from the cold. She knew what she had to do. It was the only thing they hadn’t tried yet, and it was about time that one of them suggested it. She looked up at the moon. Suddenly, it appeared bolder to her. Brighter, clearer now in the cobalt night sky.
Maggie wrapped her arms around herself and retreated into the bedroom. Joel looked up at her arrival, his eyes lost and unfocused.
Maggie went to him and knelt before him. She took his face in her hands and kissed his lips. He kissed her back, and in that moment they belonged together. They belonged to each other.
They were silent for a while, watching each other’s gaze, each one waiting for the other’s response.
“I’m not Kaden’s,” Maggie whispered at last.
“I. . .” Joel tried to speak.