The First Witch Chapter 8

 

Chapter Eight.

 

Home Again.

 

Jasmine carried the box into the cottage and placed it carefully on the kitchen table. She stepped back at once.

“Wait here,” ordered Calizone. “Touch nothing. And don’t talk.”

She swept out of the room.

Jasmine and Emdan stood in absolute silence, hardly daring to breathe. Five long minutes later, Calizone returned. She had changed into a long black dress.

“Now,” she said. “We are all wearing Shadow‑People cloth. Let us hope it is as good as they claim.”

She approached the box, and once again, no matter how she tried, she could not touch it. Her gloved fingers recoiled as if stung.

With an angry mutter she stalked around the kitchen, her dress swirling behind her. She stopped behind Jasmine.

“Since you are wearing that armour,” she said sharply, “you must do the honours.”

Jasmine shook her head. “When the prince in the turret tried to open the box, the whole castle vanished and he spent a thousand years alone. I’d rather not have that happen to me.”

Calizone snarled. “The armour, and the cloth inside it, will stop any spell from touching you. And the magic surrounding this cottage will keep it safe.” She hesitated. “Probably.”

Jasmine reached toward the box, then snatched her hand back. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“You will,” snapped Calizone. “Or your nice castle and everyone in it will spend the next hundred years asleep.”

Jasmine looked at Emdan. He shrugged and nodded.

She took a deep breath and opened the box.

Every rook in the trees shrieked.

Das roared from the field.

The cottage shook violently.

Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut.

Then, silence.

The cottage settled. Jasmine risked a peek. She was still in the kitchen. Emdan was still beside her, white‑faced and open‑mouthed. Calizone stood exactly where she had been.

But they were no longer alone.

A woman stood on the far side of the table, exactly the sort of Witch Jasmine had always imagined. Short, bent, ancient, with a hooked nose and a long black dress. She leaned on a stout walking stick. Only a tall pointed hat was missing.

“Well,” said the newcomer, “who dares disturb me?”

“I do,” said Calizone, stepping forward. “I am Calizone, the present Witch of the Dark Forest. And you are?”

The old Witch smiled, a thin, unpleasant smile.

“I am Alphaz, the First Witch of the Dark Forest. And if you have disturbed me for no good reason, you shall suffer for it.”

Calizone walked around the table until she stood face‑to‑face with Alphaz. Neither spoke. The air thickened. Jasmine could almost taste the magic crackling between them.

She began to back away, but Alphaz flicked a hand and Jasmine froze in place. Emdan reached for her, but Calizone made a small gesture and he froze too.

They could only watch.

The two Witches stared at each other, unblinking. To Jasmine it felt like an eternity before Alphaz suddenly struck her stick on the floor and looked away.

“We could do this all day and get nowhere,” she said.

Jasmine thought she saw the faintest flicker of triumph cross Calizone’s face, but it vanished instantly.

“We could indeed,” said Calizone. “And you would still not know why I disturbed you.”

Alphaz ignored her and shuffled to the bookshelf. “I see my instructions about keeping a diary have been followed.”

“They have,” said Calizone. “Mostly.”

“Your diary is not there,” Alphaz said.

Calizone pointed to the table. “I was writing in it when you arrived.”

Alphaz flipped through a few pages, then set it down. “Diaries only go on the shelf when a Witch dies. And I am very much alive so my diary is still being written.”

She wandered around the room, frowning. “My cottage is in poor condition.”

“The spell is wearing out,” said Calizone. “And no one, not even I, has found a replacement.”

“So, you are not as clever as you think, my girl,” Alphaz sneered.

“Perhaps if you allowed me to read your diary, I could recast the spell,” said Calizone.

“Only over my dead body,” cackled Alphaz.

She paused, eyes going distant, then suddenly furious.

“Why are the cottages by the Fence empty?” she hissed. “There must always be Guardians!”

“I don’t know,” said Calizone. “They’ve been empty for years. Why? Is it important?”

“Important?” screeched Alphaz. “It is the most important thing in the world!”

Calizone raised her hands defensively as Alphaz gathered power. “I didn’t know! There is nothing in any of the diaries about the cottages. You left no information.”

Alphaz calmed, slightly. “No… I suppose I did not.”

She paced again, then returned to the table. “I will tell you, so you may write it in your diary. But first, I will put this cottage to rights.”

She muttered a spell Jasmine could not hear. The cottage changed before their eyes, walls thickening, thatch brightening, everything becoming new again.

“That’s better,” Alphaz sniffed. “Should last another thousand years.”

She turned to Jasmine and Emdan. “These two may listen. The more who know, the better.”

She sat.

And then she told them everything, the evil creatures, the other world, the Fence, the Guardians, the price she paid, the making of the box, the spell that trapped her inside.

When she finished, she pointed her stick at Calizone.

“But rather you than me,” she said.

The room went dark.

The cottage shook.

The rooks shrieked.

A flash of light, and silence.

Jasmine could move again. Emdan too. They hurried together, staring at Calizone.

She leaned against the far wall, pale but alive. “I thought she’d try that,” she said. “Saved by the Shadow People.”

“What happened?” Emdan whispered.

“The spell bounced off the cloth,” said Jasmine. “Instead of putting Calizone in the box… it put Alphaz back in.”

Calizone nodded weakly. “Something like that.”

“Is she dead?” asked Emdan.

“No. Her book is not on the shelf. She is alive, back in the box.”

Calizone straightened. “A pity. There is much I would have asked her. But now I must find a safe place for the box.”

“You gave your word you’d give it to Das,” said Jasmine.

“So, I did,” said Calizone. “And the Islands will be safe, as long as no dragon tries to open it.”

She reached for the box, and yelped, snatching her hands back.

“You, girl,” she said. “Pick it up.”

Jasmine tried, and gasped. “It’s like putting my hands in a fire!”

“Odd,” said Calizone. “The armour should block any magic. It must be an incredibly strong spell.”

Emdan spoke up. “When the Ice Queen took the box to the Castle, she had a human servant carry it. And I’ve never done any magic spells. Let me try.”

He reached out and picked up the box. “Tingles a bit,” he said, “but nothing really painful.”

Calizone remained seated at the table. “Go,” she ordered. “Give the box to your dragon. But warn him about opening it. I have a great deal to think about.”

Jasmine and Emdan needed no second bidding. They ran down the path to the field.

Das was pacing anxiously. “What on earth is going on? I was so worried. I tried to reach the cottage, but the trees wouldn’t let me through. I tried to fly over and land on the roof, but something stopped me.”

“There was very powerful magic in there,” said Jasmine. “Even the Shadow People’s armour and cloth couldn’t keep it all out.”

“We have the box, as Calizone promised,” said Emdan. “But you must give your word that no dragon will ever try to open it. It would destroy the Islands if they did.”

Das nodded solemnly. “I understand. I’ll warn the Royal Dragons. They’ll keep it safe and unopened. Now let’s leave before Calizone changes her mind.”

Jasmine and Emdan climbed onto Das, and he took off. It was only a short flight to the Castle at Sealand. Das landed on the roof, the very place where the adventure had begun.

“There are armed men coming up the stairs,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll stay, if you don’t mind.”

“No,” said Jasmine. “Take the box and go, and thank you for a wonderful adventure.” She removed the helmet and gave Das a quick kiss.

“My pleasure,” said Das. “I doubt we’ll meet again. I’m never leaving the Islands again if I can help it.” With that, he sped away.

The armed men burst onto the roof, led by Jasmine’s father. He dropped his sword and rushed to her.

“Thank goodness you’re safe!”

“Yes, Father,” said Jasmine. “Thanks to Prince Emdan here, who saved me from great danger.”

The King hurried to Emdan and shook his hand. “Thank you for saving my only daughter. We had a message from Prince Aidan an hour ago saying Jasmine was safe and in good hands.”

Emdan looked at Jasmine in confusion. She quickly put a finger to her lips and shook her head.

The King led them down the stairs. Jasmine managed to whisper to Emdan, “Don’t say anything about the Witch. Just pretend you rescued me from the dragon.” Then she was swept away for a bath and clean clothes. Emdan was shown to a guest room with fresh garments laid out for him.

Almost before he had finished changing, Jasmine slipped into his room.

“I’ve only a moment,” she said. “If we pretend you rescued me, I won’t get into trouble for going off with Das. If my parents think I ran away, they’ll cancel the Ball, and Mother has worked so hard on it.”

Emdan nodded. “On one condition.”

“What?” Jasmine snapped.

“That you save one dance for me,” he said, smiling shyly.

“Why?”

“Whenever we go to a Ball, all the girls rush to my cousins. I end up alone. I usually sneak off to the library or talk to the person who keeps the Castle records. Just once, I’d like to dance with the prettiest girl in the room.”

He paused, then added, blushing furiously, “And you will be. And before you ask, yes, I can dance. Rather well, actually.”

Jasmine laughed. “That’s a promise.”