Spellweaver (18 page)

“Oh em gee!” Hollie
cried out, jumping out of the armchair.

Jamie pointed at his
sister, unable to contain the cackle that shook him. “That was
brilliant!” he laughed. “Do it again!”

Hollie frowned at him.
“Shut up. It just made me jump.” When her brother refused to stop
laughing, she swiped at him with her open hand. “I’ve never heard
thunder that loud before, okay?”

As he sat back in his
seat, Jamie noticed that his good humour had not been shared by
Felicity. She sat still, unnervingly still, and was staring
unblinkingly at the window.

“What’s the matter,
Fliss?” he chuckled. “You’re not scared of a little storm as well,
are you?”

For a moment she
didn’t say anything, and the look on her face drained the fun from
the room and the merriment from his heart.

“It’s happening,” she
said under her breath.

Down in the cellar,
Oliver looked up as the sky went suddenly dark. He couldn’t see
much from where he was, but as soon as the light drained from the
room, he knew what was happening. The rumble of thunder confirmed
it.

He could hear the
others calling to him and using their powers to try and locate him.
It would only be a matter of time before they succeeded.

Felicity wasn’t coming
back. His magical ability may have been amongst the best at his
level, but his powers of persuasion were clearly lacking. He had
lost her, and what was worse was that he had lost the journal, too.
All of the secrets it held, all of the power it could bestow upon
one who could read it - all of it was gone, all because of a
stupid, ignorant little girl.

He tugged at his ropes
angrily and fruitlessly. The unfamiliar feeling of fear began to
turn his stomach as he realised that the others would find him
soon, and then it would all be over.

Felicity swallowed.
“It’s happening.”

Hollie didn’t hear
her. She was poised by the window, staring outside and clinging to
the curtains like some kind of shield; the storm was frightening
her more than she wanted to admit. Jamie, on the other hand, had
seen Felicity’s expression.

“Fliss,” he breathed,
trying to speak as calmly and steadily as possible in spite of his
fear. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t look at
him. She couldn’t.

Suddenly and without
any warning, she leapt up from the sofa and darted out of the
room.

Immediately, Hollie
gave chase, with her brother not far behind. “Fliss!
Hey!”

Their calls were
ignored as Felicity hurriedly descended into the cellar. Her feet
moved so quickly that her legs could hardly keep up, almost forcing
her to lose her balance. She practically fell from the last few
steps and had to steady herself on the iron banister before she saw
a sight that made her stop dead in her tracks.

Oliver was gone. The
ropes that had been used to tie him to the water pipes had been
severed, their fraying ends swaying slightly in the breeze coming
from the open basement window.

The three friends
stared helplessly at the empty room. Jamie hurried to the window,
using the bench to reach up and look outside, but there was no sign
of their escaped prisoner.

“Damn it,” he cursed
under his breath as soon as his feet touched the floor again. “This
is all down to him, isn’t it? He’s making this storm
somehow.”

“Maybe he used it to
help him get away,” Hollie wondered allowed, her voice shaking.
“But I thought he couldn’t do any of that magic stuff any
more?”

Jamie shook his head.
“Me too.”

“What’re we gonna do?
What if he comes back for us?”

“He won’t,” Jamie
assured his sister.

“But we kept him
prisoner here!” Hollie cried, starting to become hysterical. “He
tried to kill me once. He’s going to try again, isn’t
he?”

Had the situation not
been so dire, Jamie would have commented on Hollie’s previous
infatuation with Oliver, but although it did cross his mind, it
certainly wasn’t the time to mention it. He took her by the
shoulders. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he told her, and he meant
it. “I promise.”

The two siblings
embraced. Felicity watched them and felt a yearning stir inside
her. Hollie looked so afraid; her usually sunny disposition had
faded, as she had seen it do so many times since all these strange
things started happening. Felicity wanted to comfort her, to tell
her best friend that everything would be alright.

And she wanted to be
comforted by Jamie. Hollie was lucky that she had someone who cared
about her, someone who would look after her and protect her no
matter what. But the situation had become too crazy, too far from
what they were all used to for Jamie - or anyone else, for that
matter - to comfort Felicity with a hug and some simple
encouragement, however much she wanted it.

She had to be strong
now.

Jamie rubbed his
sister’s back. “It’s okay,” he said, pulling away from her. “Let’s
get to Mum’s. Maybe we’ll be safe there.”

Hollie smiled
unconvincingly at her brother, and then she looked around. “Where’s
Fliss?”

The two siblings were
alone in the cellar. Felicity had gone.

Jamie’s shoulders
slumped. “I really, really wish she would stop doing
that.”

Felicity waited until
she had cleared the house before stopping; she didn’t want Hollie
or Jamie to follow her. She found herself in the park over the
road, hidden by the tall, leafless trees and the evergreen shrubs.
Her eyes darted as she looked for Oliver, but he was nowhere to be
seen, and there was very little chance of finding him now. The deal
that she had been prepared to break dissolved in an instant,
leaving but one option.

It had started to
rain. The freak storm had chased away those who had been enjoying
the last of the snow in the park; it was empty, and the water was
beginning to chip away at the remaining slush like millions of tiny
hammers. Felicity’s hair was already soaked, as were her clothes.
Her body was shivering, telling her that it was cold and needed
shelter and warmth, but her heart was beating so fast and her
adrenalin pumping so fiercely that she couldn’t hear it.

She stared up at the
sky as the clouds swirled. She didn’t know what she was looking
for. Oliver had said numerous times that the ‘others’ were coming
but she had no way to identify them. The only information she had
was that they were looking for her, so it was up to her to make
herself seen. She headed for the centre of the playing
field.

With
each breath she anticipated the end. A part of her was screaming
for her to run, to escape, to save herself, but she did not relent.
She forced her legs to move her further into the open and towards
the danger she felt certain was on its way. Her one and only
comfort, the driving force behind her actions, was that the only
two friends she had ever made would be safe. Her father’s words
echoed in her ears:
You can
either hold on to the thing you love most, even if it would ruin
them, or you can let it go and just be ruined on your own.
That was the decision she had made,
to protect the people who had shown her what friendship was when
her mother didn’t, even if it meant facing what was to
come.

“Felicity!”

She spun around, and
her breath caught in her throat when she saw Oliver standing
there.

He was a few paces
from her, staring at her with that unnerving look of utter hatred.
But in spite of that, he was calm and collected, as if meeting
Felicity in the park at that very moment wasn’t entirely
unexpected. His hands hung at his sides, loose and free to do with
whatever he wished - and it was this that terrified her.

“Where is the book?”
he said.

Felicity was too
afraid to respond. Her fear had frozen her completely; her eyes
were locked on his open palms.

“I’ll ask you again,”
Oliver said, taking a step towards her. “Where is the
book?”

Felicity opened her
mouth and shook her head with genuine effort, unable to form the
words in the face of her terror. She was imagining what Oliver was
capable of, what spells he could wield with those hands.

Suddenly, his calm yet
intense demeanour was replaced by anger as he shouted: “We do not
have time for this! The others will be here any second - give me
the book!”

It took a moment for
her mind to focus on his words and process them properly, but when
she did, she noticed something. Squinting in concentration as she
tried to ignore her instinct to flee, she glanced up at the still
overcast sky.

She felt a little
braver. “This... this is all you, isn’t it?” she
ventured.

Oliver stared at her,
frowning. “What?”

“There are no others,
are there?”

Oliver looked
surprised and confused, almost as much as she was, and for a moment
Felicity doubted her suspicions; but then she remembered that they
had all been played by him before.

“Of course there is!”
he cried out impatiently. “You have no idea.”

“So you keep saying,”
Felicity persisted. “But I don’t believe you.”

She had no time to
react as Oliver darted towards her, his arms raised and those
dangerous fingers spread. She couldn’t even attempt to dodge as he
grabbed her throat with one hand and a burning flame appeared in
the other, undeterred by the falling rain.

She grabbed at his
hand, which was tightly clasped around her neck, leaving her
struggling and gasping for air.

Oliver moved his face
close to hers. “You see that?” he asked her, glancing up at the
sky. “As we speak, nature is being disturbed by the powers of the
others. They’re on their way, and when they get here they will kill
you, for you are a threat to them. You won’t be able to stop them.
You won’t be able to defend against their magic - unless I help
you.” His grip became tighter. “The only thing that stands between
you and them is me, and I will not help you unless you give me that
book, do you understand? I want that book.”

Felicity could barely
tear her eyes from the fire being cradled in Oliver’s hands, but
when she did, she saw that his eyes were wide, desperate and
frustrated; beats of sweat clung to his forehead, and Felicity was
left doubting herself.

“I
want that book,” Oliver repeated. “
Give it to me!
”

Just as the fire
hovered but an inch from her face, there was an almighty
thunderclap that made both Felicity and Oliver stare
upwards.

The clouds were
parting. It was like staring into the centre of a hurricane, for
the opening that emerged was circular and the other clouds appeared
to be looping around it and closer to it, attracted to it like
moths to the light. The speed of the wind picked up.

The pressure on
Felicity’s neck and the heat on her face suddenly disappeared as
Oliver released her. She gulped at the air, coughing and
spluttering, and through watery eyes she watched as he took a few
steps away from her, moving his arms in a complicated gesture.
Then, before her eyes, he vanished. She could have been wrong, but
she thought she saw an expression of fear on his face.

But that was the least
of her worries, for the opening in the sky had lit up. It shone
with its own light, a bright whiteness that couldn’t possibly have
been sunlight, and something was emerging; no, not something,
Felicity realised as she squinted to see better, but many things.
They seemed tiny at first, shooting down from the opening in the
clouds like stars, and as they plummeted down to Earth and towards
Felicity, they got bigger.

She realised with a
bloodcurdling horror that she had been wrong; Oliver hadn’t created
the storm. The others were real, and they were coming for
her.

The clouds closed up
behind them and the light disappeared, but still the shapes that
had emerged headed in the direction of the park. They could easily
have been mistaken for pieces of a plane shedding its parts as it
encountered trouble, were it not for they way in which they
commanded their own flight path. Felicity felt her heart beat
faster and her breathing increase as they got closer and closer to
her. At the last moment her instinct of flight finally kicked in
and she began to run, but by then it was far too late.

She had barely managed
a few metres when the shapes had surrounded her, leaving a
distortion in their wake; the air behind them seemed to blur. She
stopped as two of them criss-crossed in front of her, blocking her
path. At first their goal seemed only to stop her, perhaps to
imprison her, but then she felt a stinging pain across her
cheek.

She couldn’t see where
the blow had come from, for she couldn’t make out any humanoid
figures within the objects that had descended from the sky; she
couldn’t make out any shapes at all. She was simply aware of waves
of dull light and distorted air circling her and weaving in front
of and behind one another. One of them struck her again and she
cried out in pain. A thin red line appeared on her cheek where the
flesh had been split. She raised her hand to her face and could
feel the sticky warmth of her blood.