Witching Tree (Alice Gray Book 1)

63

           
"He saved me," I tried again.

"Release her, vampire," a deep voice rumbled from behind me.

Thomas's growl stopped abruptly. "Ben, is that you?" he said, the crimson gone in a blink of his eyelids.

His arms dropped away from me as he stepped forward and embraced the naked man.

"I didn't recognise you. It's been decades, and, your hair!" Thomas continued.

Ben laughed, returning Thomas's embrace with equal enthusiasm. Neither seemed bothered by his nakedness.

I stood back, happy to enjoy the view.

"Sorry to interrupt the reunion, guys, but shouldn't we be getting out of here," Emily said, boredom seeping from her tone.

Spoilsport.

But she was right, and I shouldn't have been slacking off. Not yet.

"What about Evan, I can't see him, can you?" I asked, the question directed to no-one and anyone.

People were scattered all over the floor of the great hall. They held their heads, trying to drown out the sound of the silver leaves that were still chiming their maddening song.

No Evan. But the sight was enough to convince me that we'd be taking some passengers along when we went back. We couldn't leave them for Jonathan, to be twisted back into hideous, demented gargoyles.

"Ok, we need to check everyone to make sure Evan isn't here somewhere and do a head count, who knows if the coven will have enough juice to get this lot back!" Emily said, taking charge of the situation as usual. "You two, take that side of the room, I'll start here, and Alice you go and see if you can figure out what to do about that infernal racket."

The tree-throne was across the room, separated from me by bodies curled up in pain. Tiny particles of silver floated into the air like dust mites from the prone forms. They gravitated towards the tree, strengthening the energy that shone brightly around it.

As I got closer, the buzz of its power vibrated through me. 

The familiar sense of dread crept up my spine. I recognised it for what it was now. A warning not to let the power in.

But it was too late.

That silver energy, it was a fundamental part of me. Its darkness was mine. I just needed to learn how to control it.

Raising my hand to the bark, I could see the energy react and change.

The delicate web of particles and fibres shifted, the complex pattern transforming into something else, something beautiful and right. Silver fibres from my life-force knitted together forming an identical sequence as I closed the distance.

Taking a deep breath, I readied my self for the disorientating rush of power. It welled inside me until I thought my organs would explode.

The calls of the others rang faintly in my head, Thomas's voice cutting through the rest, travelling through our connection.

But it wasn't enough. They were in a different place, far away.

It was just me and the tree, our bond dissolving all others in the unity of our silver life-force.

As the power transferred into me, the silver leaves slowed their movement. The noise morphed into the song, a gentle lullaby, the White Paternoster. Then they stilled.

Looking down at the bright silver glow that surrounded my hands, I saw the complex sequence of the tree's magic spin in ever thicker and brighter webs.

My companions looked at me with open-mouths and wide-eyes.

"You greedy slut," a rasping voice said from behind me.

Jonathan.

I turned, expecting to see my beautiful, evil father. But something was wrong with his life-force.

Weak particles with unconnected fibres floated away from his body like jellyfish caught on a tide. They fizzled away as they drifted out, their tentacles finding nothing to hook onto to.

His tall, strong body was withered and stunted. The beautiful long auburn hair was now streaked with grey. Once smooth skin, wrinkled and discoloured.

"What's happened to you?" I asked, my shock at his appearance making me forget the threat that he posed.

"You had to take it all, didn't you. I always knew you would. I should have just killed you," Jonathan said, paying little attention to my question.

Caught up in his own twisted version of events, he pointed a tremulous finger at me in accusation. "You conniving thief. It was your plan all along."

"You're wrong," I said, surprised at the resonance of my voice. "Where's Evan?"

"Ha!" Jonathan said in triumph. "You can't have him at least." He chuckled to himself, a high-pitched, uncomfortable sound. "Stop that," he shouted at me, batting at the remnants of his life-force that were floating around his head. 

Jonathan's body twisted and convulsed in unnatural jerking movements. His mind was unraveling at the same rate.

He didn't have long left. And we needed him to tell us where he was keeping Evan.

I looked at the others for help. They stood unmoving, mesmerised by Jonathan's degeneration. 

A huge gargoyle crouched in the place of the elderly man. He was the most monstrous of the lot, and his colour, bright silver. I steadied myself ready for his attack.

Nothing came.

Made of hard metal, he was frozen in his stance.

Frozen except for the furious green eyes that swivelled back and forth, all reason departed.

And with it, our last chance of finding Evan.