Sisters of moonlight, p.3
Sisters of Moonlight, page 3
‘You don’t have to be frightened of your emotions, Jem,’ Lily said, as if she’d heard his thoughts. ‘It’s going to take time to process all of this,’ she gestured around them, ‘and what you’ve lost. It all takes time.’
‘Yeah, I know. I just wish I could “cope” by making drop scones, instead of moping around.’
‘This’ – she pointed at his sketchbook – ‘isn’t moping, it’s processing. There’s a difference. Anyway, that’s beautiful! Moonlight Castle?’ She pointed to the words carelessly scribed at the top of his sketch.
Jem closed his sketchbook. ‘Thanks. It’s Maeve and Brenna’s name for the place. Remember that first night? We had been walking for so long that I thought my feet had worn themselves down to stumps. We saw the inky lake, and then we saw the castle. Our castle. The clouds parted to reveal a moonbeam, like molten silver, dripping from the heavens and illuminating it out on the water. It felt like it was glowing just for us. I was reminiscing over hot cocoa with the girls a couple of nights ago when I put them to bed, and then I asked them what they thought we should call it. I’ve always thought that giving something a nice name helps to blur the rough edges; it makes everything seem brighter somehow. After a couple of suggestions, they decided on Moonlight Castle, so Moonlight Castle it became.’
‘You’re a veritable poet, Jem Rafferty, as well as an artist. A moonbeam like molten silver. You captured that night in words just as beautifully as you’ve captured it on the page.’ She grinned, and it was like the sun had just broken through the clouds.
Jem fell into an easy silence beside Lily. Gentle flurries of snow had started to dance down from the clouds once more, and the stillness was peaceful and comforting. Jem traced his fingers through the fresh snow, over the tiny pebbles of the shoreline. Before he knew it, he’d traced the outline of a lighthouse. If Lily saw what he’d done, she didn’t comment. She simply shivered and shifted closer to him.
Jem was about to suggest they both go inside and warm up by the fire when the sound of crashing and shouting broke the silence.
‘Oh no…’ he groaned, and they both jumped up from their quiet and snowy sanctuary and dashed back inside the thick castle walls. What they found when they discovered the source of the commotion, was newly fallen silence. Grace was thunderous in the corner of the cavernous kitchen, where she sat with her knees up to her chest, gazing out of the grubby window. Her cheeks were red and raw from crying and in her rough hands she clutched a large dark-brown bottle of something Jem hoped wasn’t rum. At the sight of her brother, Grace rolled her eyes and took a ginormous swig from the bottle, and although she tried to hide the shiver, Jem recognised the flinch of neat liquor in her face.
Lily had disappeared, and Jem realised she had probably gone to seek out Alice the moment she saw the state of Grace. There was no one else on earth who could make Grace shrivel up so, and their arguments and bickering had been growing worse over the weeks they’d spent in the castle. Every time Jem had tried to raise the subject with Grace, he was fanned away with a flick of her hand, and she spoke no more of it. This time, he decided to go for a different tactic.
Pouring himself a mug of tea from the kettle that hung neatly above the stove, Jem grabbed a drop scone from the stove and offered it to Grace. She refused and he shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ Jem remarked, before biting off a huge chunk and washing it down inelegantly with the tea. ‘So, where are Maeve and Brenna?’
Grace shrugged.
‘Morven? Cass?’
‘No idea, Jem, if I’m honest. Are they not old enough to look after themselves yet without you pandering around after them all the time?’
Ouch. Jem had to admit to himself that that one stung. There really was no one else with a tongue quite as venomous as his sister’s when she was in a foul mood. ‘There’s no need to take your anger out on me, Grace. I’m not the one who upset you.’
Grace rolled her eyes again.
‘You know, your eyes will get lost in the back of your head if you roll them any harder, and then how are you supposed to express your disapproval of me every day?’ Jem gave her his best cheeky grin, and to his delight, it worked.
Grace snorted, trying to conceal her laughter, before the thundercloud settled back over her brow. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Try me. I’ve always liked proving you wrong.’
‘It was never like this. Back at Hecate’s lair, we were inseparable. Nothing could touch us. No amount of stress, or pressure, or unkindness could push itself between us because we were always stronger. We’re bonded. It means that she’s now the only witch I can protect; it means we’re something different, something special. It’s supposed to, anyway.’ She uncorked the bottle and took another swig, her eyes watering. ‘But now it’s like she can hardly bear to be around me. I just… don’t understand what’s changed. She has Lily back, she has a home, she has acceptance, she has love. But it still isn’t enough. I’m not enough.’
‘Grace, you will always be enough.’
Chapter Four
Dusk fell across the expanse of sky above the castle in streaks of colour that reminded Lily of the crushed blackberries and dried rose petals that once she would have muddled together in her beloved mortar and pestle back home.
She sat in a rocking chair, wrapped in a blanket, gazing out of the long, slender window in her bedroom. The castle was cosy, but it still made Lily feel suspicious; she never could quite relax. It was as though the world had taken a deep inhale, and she was constantly waiting for it to exhale again, pushing with it more bad fortune, more sadness, more heartbreak.
It felt strange to Lily that there had once been a time when life was simply the apothecary, and making and delivering remedies to the homely residents of Alder Vale. How strange and faraway that all seemed now. Like it was another world. She smiled as she recalled the laugh lines that cracked like mountain crevices around Uncle Alf’s eyes, and then felt as though she’d swallowed a too-large lump of Cass’s dry and clumpy attempt at mashed potato from last night’s dinner. A single tear leaked out of her eye and trickled down her cheek, which she brushed away in earnest. She, out of all of them, had nothing to be sad about. Not really. In her quest to find Alice, she had found so much more. A home, a family. And Jem, who she knew would always be by her side.
But what she didn’t allow herself a moment to think about was whether Jem was to stay by her side as her friend, her companion, or something else… Her thoughts had frequently been straying into the realms of imagination, and before she could catch herself, she felt her cheeks flush violently. Then, all the worse, her hands glowed with magic for the first time in days. The sparks jumped from finger to finger like spritely fairies, taunting her, laughing at her.
At that moment, with Lily looking like a walking strawberry, Alice barged through her bedroom door and threw herself face down on Lily’s bed.
‘Argghhhhhhh,’ the raven-haired girl grumbled into the duvet.
Lily let out a sharp exhale, glad for a second that Alice was too wrapped up in her own troubles to notice how Lily glowed. ‘Um… Alice?’ She walked over and sat on the edge of her bed, placing a friendly hand on Alice’s shoulder. The magic had seeped back into her skin, leaving behind only a faint tingling sensation.
Alice flinched slightly but didn’t reject Lily’s offer of friendship. She rolled herself over with melodramatic effort and stared at the ceiling. Her face was even paler than normal, which made the tear-stained redness of her cheeks stand out like blood against snow. ‘Talk to me about something, anything, please. And don’t ask about Grace.’
Lily racked her brains. She wanted to continue convincing Alice not to leave, but the state of Grace downstairs, and this strange version of Alice lying on her bed, suggested she was closer to leaving than ever. Then, she had an idea. ‘So… I’m apparently a witch now, aren’t I? I keep forgetting, and then I let my guard down and all this energy wants to rush out of me and I don’t know how to contain it. It’s a bit embarrassing, actually. I think I might have accidentally scorched Glenn’s grave as we left. All I did was kneel down and rest a hand on it, and suddenly there was a burned handprint right there by the cross Jem made for him.’
‘Lil!’ Alice rolled over, eyes wide.
‘Yeah, I know.’ She shook her head, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
‘Well, there at least I can hopefully help you. Let’s start by working out what kind of magic you have. I’m a fire witch, but your magic was golden, wasn’t it?’
Lily nodded slowly, reliving the memories of her magic breaking out of her. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling to remember.
‘Which means that you’re an air witch. Which stands to reason, really. All that time dreaming about flying into the sky like a bird.’
‘You think that came from my dormant magic? All those dreams?’
‘I think so. It’s why I had such a knack for lighting the stove, and why my anger was always so hot and fiery. It was always there, deep down, waiting.’ Alice paused, deep in thought. ‘You know, I think I read once that air witches have an affinity with certain mythical creatures—’
‘But—’ Lily interrupted.
‘I know, I know, you don’t think they exist. But you didn’t think magic existed, and yet here we are.’ Alice gave her a half-smile, shrugging.
‘All right, I won’t argue. What kind of creatures?’
‘Airborne ones. Sylphs, will-o’-the-wisps. The kinds of creatures who, like you, love mountains and meadows, fresh air, and natural spaces.’
Lily exhaled a long breath. ‘And you really believe they’re as real as you and me?’
Alice rolled her eyes, but nodded.
‘So…’ Lily was keen to change the subject. ‘Fire witches, air witches… Are there water and earth witches too?’ Lily felt a strange sense of relief to have successfully distracted Alice, but she still struggled to understand how she could have possibly had magic for all of this time without knowing. Could she really, truly be a witch?
‘That’s right, and then there are Protectors, which is what Grace is to me. Or would be, if things were easier. Witches and Protectors work together to overcome problems; the witch brings the actual magic and the Protector focuses on keeping the witch safe and undistracted, so she can cast in peace. It’s not that witches are weak without Protectors, it’s just that Protectors allow us to really flourish; they prevent us from having to worry too much about anything other than producing that spell in that moment.’
‘I feel like there’s so much I don’t know.’ Lily looked down at her hands and watched as a faint golden light danced around the edges of her fingertips, where the wounds of her incessant, anxious picking taunted her.
‘You and me both. But I can start to help you understand, at least from the knowledge I have, when I get back.’
‘You’re still leaving then? There’s nothing I can say to change your mind?’
‘You saw Grace earlier. I can’t explain it to her, and I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I’ve pushed her away. If I don’t go now, I run the risk of losing her forever; you helped me see that.’ Alice’s voice broke and she cleared her throat, trying to bury any indication that she might be struggling. But Lily knew.
‘You’ll come back to us though, won’t you? We’ll find another home, soon. Somewhere safe, and Grace will be there with you, and me not too far away.’
‘You and Jem, you mean?’ Alice nudged her.
‘Erm, all right, I thought we were having a serious conversation?’
‘I am being serious.’
‘Well, let’s move on and talk about actual serious things, then, please.’
‘When did you become such a bore?’ Alice smirked, but her heart wasn’t in it.
Lily had missed that flicker of mischief in Alice that was so rarely seen by outsiders, even if it was a struggle for her best friend today. ‘I prefer “realist”.’ She stuck her tongue out and Alice just smiled and gave her a knowing, probing look. ‘All right, fine. Are we still friends?’
‘Friends? I thought we were Sisters of Shadow?’
They both nodded simultaneously, and Alice rested her head on Lily’s broad shoulder. Lily exhaled and tried to relax her worries. She had to accept that Alice was going to leave. There was nothing else she could do.
Chapter Five
Grace Rafferty rolled over on the hard bed and reached across to caress the arm of her lover. Finding nothing, she forced open her eyes.
Then she remembered.
Alice hadn’t shared her bed for days, yet the habits they had built together still haunted her. Flinging off the bed sheets, Grace dragged herself from bed, muttering to herself. She was going to speak to Alice today. Properly speak to her. Yesterday her emotions had taken over; she hadn’t expected Alice to find her in the library. She had been weak, vulnerable, and she hadn’t explained herself properly, nor had she allowed Alice space to speak freely.
The problem was, she was tired of reaching out to her lover only to be pushed away, ignored, rejected. Rejection didn’t suit Grace one bit, and she couldn’t bear being rebuffed by the one person she had ever properly opened her heart to.
They hadn’t had a proper conversation since the week they had arrived at the castle. Each night, Alice had drifted further and further away, crawling inward, into some place where Grace could no longer reach her.
They couldn’t go on living in this constant aching silence, broken only by occasional shouting. They loved each other; Grace was sure of it. Whatever was upsetting Alice, whatever she had done, they’d fix it. Together.
The fire in her bedroom had died out sometime in the night, but the thick stone walls held steadfastly onto their heat, so Grace was surprised to see gentle flurries of ice falling from the sky outside of her narrow window. She wrapped a long scrap of cloth around her chest and pulled it tight, securing it with a small knot in the centre of her chest, and pulled a large white shirt with billowing sleeves over her head. Distractedly, she tucked the shirt into a pair of thick wool trousers, and stormed from her bedroom, dashing down the staircase, two stairs at a time.
Grace’s room was on the top floor of the castle, in one of the tall turrets. She enjoyed the height and the vista it gave her; it felt like her bedroom in the lighthouse always had. It was also the most private room in the castle, and she and Alice had, initially upon their arrival, taken full advantage of the privacy. But now it felt leagues away from everyone else. She couldn’t hear their comings and goings, and often missed their spontaneous gatherings simply because she was out of earshot. It had become all too easy for Alice to avoid her.
After two flights of stairs, Grace landed at the room Alice had taken as her own when they had first moved in; although they spent their time mostly in Grace’s room, Alice sometimes needed somewhere to be alone with her thoughts. As far as Grace was aware, the large bed had never been slept in until recently, when Alice stopped coming to Grace’s room. Gathering her spirits, she knocked twice on the wooden door. No answer. With tentative slowness, Grace took the round iron handle, flicked it upwards off the latch, and pushed. The eerie creak of ancient hinges echoed around the empty room. Alice wasn’t there.
Grace sighed at her own stupidity. Alice loved mornings; she was probably already up and about in the kitchen or curled up by the fire with one of the dusty old tomes she treasured so dearly. She hopped down the final two flights of stairs, and finally wandered into the entrance-hall-cum-sitting room. There was an impressive, oversized fireplace on the back wall, with huge crests and tapestries hanging above it that looked like they belonged in the abode of some great baron. Surrounding the fireplace were a group of impossibly comfortable leather armchairs and sofas, rather than the typical wooden high-backed chairs usually scattered around fireplaces. Things had been dusty and covered in great white sheets when they had arrived in the castle, but a day of sprucing things up had made it feel like a home pretty quickly.
But, there was still no Alice.
The kitchens, then. Grace walked along the parquet floor to the right of the fireplace and pushed through another creaky door into the expansive space of the kitchens. Grace thought to herself that when things were a little less strange and unsettling, she herself might feel inclined to pick up one of the old books lying around and find out more about this creaking castle and its long-passed inhabitants.
There were only two people in the kitchen, and neither of them was Alice. Lily sat, glassy-eyed and distant, next to Morven who looked full of the joys of spring in comparison. Morven had placed a friendly, caring hand on Lily’s back, which Grace thought was unusual. Lying strewn in front of Lily were two envelopes, one untouched, and another ripped open. There was a letter lying abandoned by its crumpled form.
‘What’s going on?’ Grace demanded, inwardly terrified, outwardly fierce.
Lily looked up at her with what could only be described as dread in her eyes. Morven, too, looked sombre now. They exchanged worried glances before Lily pushed the unopened letter across the table towards Grace. ‘I’m sorry,’ Lily whispered, no longer able to hold Grace’s gaze.
Grace snatched the letter from the table and recognised Alice’s scrawled handwriting on the front of the envelope, delicately spelling out Grace’s own name. It already felt like she had an arrow piercing her heart. Deep down, she knew that Alice wasn’t in the castle anymore. Now her head was cleared of redemptive thoughts, she recognised the echoey, pulsing feeling in her chest that denoted that she was unable to protect Alice.
The letter felt strangely heavy in her hands as she unsheathed it from the envelope. Her eyes flickered over the page, the words jumbling and dancing as she looked upon them. She didn’t like the feeling that Lily and Morven were just watching her, waiting for a response, so she turned her back on them and leaned back against the oak table.
With a deep inhale, she read the words again, slowly, mouthing each one, from the start:
