The Enchanted Writes Book One (3 page)

Good god, he was mad. If she needed any more
evidence of the man's lunacy, considering his dress sense, then
talk of magical flames and transformation wands was the nail in the
coffin. “Just get out, please, get out.”

“Now why would I get out? I have only just
found you. I have been looking for you for entirely too long, and I
am not about to leave now.” He glowered at her, the flames almost
touching his feet as they licked and leaped across the carpet. “Are
you going to stand there, dripping against your wall, or are you
going to come and put this fire out?”

The smoke was now so thick, she had to slam
her dripping palm over her mouth.

She had to get away.

She backed off, darting down the hall and
into the kitchen. As she passed the open bathroom door, she grabbed
at the robe over the back of it and swung it over herself,
shrugging into it as her feet pounded over the hallway floor.

She reached the kitchen, seizing the doorway
and using it to pivot herself so she didn't lose any speed.

Her gaze locked on the knife rack, but she
hesitated. She wasn't the kind of girl to grab up a kitchen knife
and threaten a home invader. She was more the kind of girl to fling
open the kitchen door and run like crazy until she could get the
neighbors to call the police.

So she turned and headed for the door.

Except there was a problem. The man was now
in front of it. She’d left him in the hallway, and she’d run the
whole way to the kitchen, only pausing to grab her toweling robe,
and yet somehow, somehow he was now in front of her.

It was such a shock that she brought herself
to a stuttering stop, grabbing onto the kitchen table to steady
herself so she didn't fly face-first into the guy.

She must have looked like a surprised fish –
her mouth was wide open, her jaw as slack as loose fabric. If she’d
been in any other situation, she would’ve laughed at herself.

There was no time to laugh at anything now,
not when a creepy home invader was rushing around her house at the
speed of light.

Her mouth still open, she backed away from
the kitchen table.

“If you keep your mouth open like that for
too long, a spider may crawl inside,” the man pointed out, his
voice matter-of-fact.

It was the creepiest thing she’d ever heard.
It gave her a full-body shiver, and she clutched a hand onto the
collar of her toweling robe, pulling it around herself tighter and
tighter.

She turned on her foot and ran from the
kitchen, heading back to the hallway.

When she reached the flaming rug, it was no
longer on fire. What was more, the man was standing on it
again.

It was the same man, it had to be. It was
the same leather jacket, the same scuffed boots, the same large
clothes, and the same thick stubble. It was even the same bemused
and bored expression.

She started to shake, and it was a bad,
shuddering type of shake. It was the kind of shivering that she
couldn't control, the kind of quick snapped movements the body gave
when it was dealing with the most horrible of shocks.

She began to back off again, except now her
heart was beating so fast that it sent cold blasting through her
neck and lungs.

She stumbled, keeping her eyes on the man,
her mind reeling with surprise and fear. “What's happening?”

“We are getting to know one another.” The
man shrugged. “As we will be spending a lot of time with each other
in the future, it is natural to spend some time introducing
ourselves.”

Getting to know one another, spending a lot
of time with each other in the future – oh god. There was no doubt
that this crazy, ninja-quick home invader wanted to kidnap her.

She screamed, and it was loud and desperate,
the kind of keening cry that no one could mistake for a joke.

The man looked at her nonplussed and then
cleared his throat. “Are you alright?”

“Please, please, leave. I won't call the
police, I won't tell them what you've done. Just leave.”

The man looked bemused, but that was it. He
didn't start cackling, and neither did he snap forward, bring out
rope, and tie her up. “I do hope you are not this emotional when it
comes to fighting.”

She slammed a sweaty hand on her chest and
she wheezed. He hoped she wouldn't be this emotional when she was
fighting? Did this mean he was going to kidnap her and use her for
some kind of cage fight? Was that a thing? Did men in leather
jackets kidnap confused women and force them onto the boxing
circuit?

Standing there, her knuckles white as she
clutched onto the collar and waist of her bathrobe, her imagination
ran wild.

“After it has taken so long to find you, I
had hoped you would be everything that legend promised.” He
narrowed his eyes and appraised her with an unimpressed look. “I
must admit, unless you are acting, you do not seem like a brave and
capable warrior woman.”

“Warrior woman?” she repeated, disbelief
constricting her voice into a timid squeak.

“Yes, warrior woman.”

It was all too much. She choked as hot, fat,
salty tears streamed down her face.

If the man had looked unimpressed before,
now he rolled his eyes in obvious disdain. “You are actually
crying?”

Of course she was crying. It had been a big
day, and to top it all off, it appeared she would be kidnapped and
forced into cage fighting. So yes, she was crying, because she had
a lot to cry about.

The more the hot sticky tears trickled down
her face, the less and less impressed the man looked.

“Well how long are you planning on crying
for? We have a busy night ahead of us. I have already located a
witch, and unless we deal with it, we will be remiss of our duties.
If we are remiss of our duties, the Sacred Balance will be
affected, and if the Sacred Balance is affected, well,” he took a
heavy and pointed breath, “Then the universe will cease to
exist.”

The universe will cease to exist?

She whimpered. This man was utterly
insane.

“You are whimpering now, but you have
stopped crying, does that mean that you are ready to go and
transform?” He narrowed his eyes and shot her a cautious look.

She wanted to run away and call the police.
No – she needed to.

“You're planning on trying to run again, are
you?” He asked perceptively.

She took an enormous swallow and took a
shuddering step backwards.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I
have been training all my life for this,” he kept shaking his head,
“I was promised a warrior woman, a Witch Hunter, and all I get is
an emotional woman past her prime.”

She choked back her tears. “Excuse me, past
my prime? I'm still in my 20’s!”

He chuckled. “Most Witch Hunters of old were
16. It is a good age for witch hunting.”

“... Just get out of my house,” she begged,
but this time her voice was firmer. Maybe it was the snide comment
about her being past her prime, or maybe she was calming down
enough to get a handle on her fear.

“I have already told you, I can't do that; I
am your witch watcher, I am here to guide you along the path. I am
here to deliver your transformation wand, and I am here to help you
do what is necessary.” He nodded low, and it was a notable move. It
was slow and delicate, and seemed to belie a great deal of
respect.

“... Who are you?” She didn’t let go of her
bathrobe for one second as she anchored her hands on it.

He watched her. “You have no idea, do
you?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, well be sure to listen carefully this
time. My name is Brick, I am a warrior monk. I grew up in a warrior
monastery, with my warrior monk brethren. When I came of age, I was
given a holy task. My holy task was to watch over a Witch Hunter.”
He nodded her way.

“Sorry, Brick? Is that your name?” She
looked at him with narrowed eyes. Of all the things he’d said – of
all the crazy he’d spouted – the possibility that his name was
Brick trumped it all.

Brick looked at her with narrowed eyes and
cleared his throat. “Do not interrupt me. It took me some years to
find you, but now I'm here, it's time we start to get down to
business. We have a lot of witches to hunt, and you have a lot of
training to undergo. Now I have introduced myself, it's time for
you to take up your transformation wand, get changed into something
more magical, and go out and fight the witches.”

Henrietta blinked at him. She couldn't think
of an intelligent reply, and she couldn't even think of a
semi-stupid question to ask. All she could do was blink.

She couldn’t process what he’d said. It was
all fanciful, all fantastic, and all entirely impossible.

As Brick watched her, an expectant look on
his face, she realized she had to react in some way. So, despite
the fact he was a creepy home invader, she shrugged back and began
to laugh. “Okay, sure thing, Brick. I have another idea. How about
I call the police, and you get the hell out of my house?”

Brick scrunched up his brow and looked
quizzical, as if he was thinking over that possibility, and then he
shook his head. “You are not an active listener. You seem to have
ignored everything I have told you. I have a sacred imperative to
help you fight the witches, so I am going to pass up on your offer
to get the hell out of your house. Instead I am going to teach you
how to transform with your transformation wand, and then you are
going to go out and fight the witches.”

It was her turn to shake her head. Her
dripping hair sent trickles of water playing down her neck and back
and several droplets even splattered onto the wall beside her.

Brick gave a heavy sigh. “We do not have
much time, Warrior Woman Henrietta; we must get some witch hunting
done before the night is through. Recognize that these are
dangerous creatures, and if left alone, the witches will bring much
misery and destruction.”

She kept shaking her head.

“Why are you shaking your head? Are you
denying the fact that the witches are one of the most dangerous and
insidious enemies on the planet?” He crossed his arms and got a
stern look on his face.

“You are mad,” she admitted with a nervous
chuckle.

Brick's eyebrows crumpled. “I am mad? You're
standing there, as a Warrior Woman, ignoring your duty, and
dripping water onto your floor.”

“Why don't you get out of my house,
Brick?”

Brick paused, shrugged, shook his head, and
took a massive sigh. “I see I am going to have to give you a
demonstration. Very well then.” With that he reached into his
leather jacket and somehow pulled out a massive crossbow. It was
huge, and couldn't have fit into the pocket of his jacket, and yet
he whisked it out, and the moment he did, she shuddered back from
shock.

“Please, please, please don't.” She crumpled
a hand over her mouth and whimpered.

“Don't what?” Brick shrugged.

Before he could wait for her answer, he did
something.

He shot the roof.

He brought the crossbow up, directed the top
of it towards the ceiling, and then he fired. No bolt came
streaming from the crossbow. Instead it was a surge of blue energy
and flame.

She screamed, clutching a hand to her chest,
whimpering as she stumbled back, feet snagging on the carpet and
sending her tumbling to the floor.

She didn't sit frozen in fear for long. She
crawled backwards, eyes locked on the blue flame playing over her
ceiling.

Though it looked powerful, it didn't burn
through the plaster. Instead it somehow formed a mandala,
circular-like pattern with symbols playing around the edges. It was
around this that the flames and electricity crackled.

She’d never seen anything like it. Crossbows
shoot bolts, not mysterious blue flames and symbols.

She shuddered and screamed and whimpered,
but no matter what she did, the symbols and flames didn’t
disappear. Neither did the ceiling burst into flames.

The flames were cold.

She stared at the specter; she couldn't drag
her eyes from it.

“How do you like the demonstration? Do you
feel ready to go fight the witches yet?”

She scampered backwards. “What's happening,
what is happening, what's happening?”

Brick brought his crossbow down, looked it
over, and gave an easy shrug. “It's nothing to worry about. It's a
magical magnification field, used to increase the effect of magic
practiced within it.” He paused, watching her expression. “It won't
damage your ceiling.”

“What is this? What are you? Who am I?
What's happening?” She couldn’t form a coherent sentence, she
couldn't push her words out, she couldn't force her thoughts to
make sense. All she could do was stare at those dancing blue
flames.

“Why is this happening to you? I have
already told you that, as I have already told you who I am and who
you are. All that is left is for you to pick up your magical
transformation wand, write the words “Witch Hunter” clearly in
front of you, and be sure to dodge all your furniture whilst the
process takes hold. Then we will go out and fight the witches.” He
ticked off the list on his large, thick, scarred fingers.

She didn't move. She fixated on the blue
flaming symbols on her ceiling until they dissipated.

Brick was patient for a while, then started
to tap his foot. “Warrior Woman Henrietta, we do not have much
time. I assure you, there are already witches in this town, and we
must begin our sacred task of eliminating them this night.”

She tore her gaze from the ceiling and
locked it on him. “I....”

Brick plunged his hand into the pocket of
his leather jacket and pulled out a large heavy Akubra hat, despite
the fact the hat couldn't have fit into his pocket in the first
place. He tugged it onto his head and then nodded at her.

He pushed his hand into his pocket again and
brought out the hairpin.